The Histories (Books IX–XV) — Polybius
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ΠΟΛΥΒΙΟΥ ΙΣΤΟΡΙΑΙ
Translation/edition: Evelyn S. Shuckburgh (1889)
Language: English
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## The Histories (Books IX–XV)


## Book IX

[9.1] Such are the most conspicuous transactions of this Olympiad, that is, of the four years which an Olympiad must be reckoned to contain; and I shall endeavour to include the history of them in two books.
[9.1] I am quite aware that my history has an element of austerity in it, and is adapted to, and will be approved by only one class of readers, owing to the uniformity of its plan. Nearly all other historians, or at any rate most, attract a variety of readers by entering upon all the various branches of history. The curious reader is attracted by the genealogical style; the antiquarian by the discussion of colonisations, origins of cities, and ties of blood, such as is found in Ephorus; the student of polities by the story of tribes, cities, and dynasties. It is to this last branch of the subject that I have had a single eye, and have devoted my whole work; and accordingly have, as I said before, accommodated all my plans to one particular class of narrative. The result is that I have made my work by no means attractive reading to the majority. Why I thus neglected other departments of history, and deliberately resolved to confine myself to chronicling actions, I have already stated at length; however, there is no reason why I should not briefly remind my readers of it again in this place, for the sake of impressing it upon them.
[9.2] Seeing that many writers have discussed in many varieties of style the question of genealogies, myths, and colonisations, as well as of the foundations of cities and the consanguinity of peoples, there was nothing left for a writer at this date but to copy the words of others and claim them as his own,—than which nothing could be more dishonourable; or, if he did not choose to do that, to absolutely waste his labour, being obliged to acknowledge that he is composing a history and bestowing thought on what has already been sufficiently set forth and transmitted to posterity by his predecessors. For these and sundry other reasons I abandoned such themes as these, and determined on writing a history of actions: first, because they are continually new and require a new narrative, —as of course one generation cannot give us the history of the next; and secondly, because such a narrative is of all others the most instructive. This it has always been: but it is eminently so now, because the arts and sciences have made such an advance in our day, that students are able to arrange every event as it happens according to fixed rules, as it were, of scientific classification. Therefore, as I did not aim so much at giving pleasure to my readers, as at profiting those who apply to such studies, I omitted all other themes and devoted myself wholly to this. But on these points, those who give a careful attention to my narrative will be the best witnesses to the truth of what I say. . . .

### The Hannibalian War

[9.3] In the previous year (212 B. C.) Syracuse had fallen: the two Scipios had been conquered and killed in Spain: the siege-works had been constructed round Capua, at the very time of the fall of Syracuse, i. e. in the autumn, Hannibal being engaged in fruitless attempts upon the citadel of Tarentum. See Livy, 25, 22.
[9.3] Entirely surrounding the position of Appius Claudius, Hannibal at first skirmished, and tried all he could to tempt him to come out and give him battle. But as no one attended to him, his attack became very like an attempt to storm the camp; for his cavalry charged in their squadrons, and with loud cries hurled their javelins inside the entrenchments, and the infantry attacked in their regular companies, and tried to pull down the palisading round the camp. But not even so could he move the Romans from their purpose: they employed their light-armed troops to repulse those who were actually attacking the palisade, but protecting themselves with their heavy shields against the javelins of the enemy, they remained drawn up near their standards without moving. Discomfited at being neither able to throw himself into Capua, nor induce the Romans to leave their camp, Hannibal retired to consult as to what was best to be done.
[9.3] It is no wonder, in my opinion, that the Carthaginians were puzzled. I think any one who heard the facts would be the same. For who would not have received with incredulity the statement that the Romans, after losing so many battles to the Carthaginians, and though they did not venture to meet them on the field, could not nevertheless be induced to give up the contest or abandon the command of the country? Up to this time, moreover, they had contented themselves with hovering in his neighbourhood, keeping along the skirts of the mountains; but now they had taken up a position on the plains, and those the fairest in all Italy, and were besieging the strongest city in it; and that with an enemy attacking them, whom they could not endure even the thought of meeting face to face: while the Carthaginians, who beyond all dispute had won the battles, were sometimes in as great difficulties as the losers. I think the reason of the strategy adopted by the two sides respectively was, that they both had seen that Hannibal’s cavalry was the main cause of the Carthaginian victory and Roman defeat. Accordingly the plan of the losers after the battles, of following their enemies at a distance, was the natural one to adopt; for the country through which they went was such that the enemy’s cavalry would be unable to do them any damage. Similarly what now happened at Capua to either side was natural and inevitable.
[9.4] For the Roman army did not venture to come out and give battle, from fear of the enemy’s horse, but remained resolutely within their entrenchment; well knowing that the cavalry, by which they had been worsted in the battles, could not hurt them there. While the Carthaginians, again, naturally could not remain any longer encamped with their cavalry, because all the pastures in the surrounding country had been utterly destroyed by the Romans with that very view; and it was impossible for animals to come from such a distance, carrying on their backs hay and barley for so large a body of cavalry, and so many beasts of burden; nor again did they venture, when encamped without their cavalry, to attack an enemy protected by a palisade and fosse, with whom a contest, even without these advantages in their favour, was likely to be a doubtful one if they had not got their cavalry. Besides this they were much alarmed about the new Consuls, lest they should come and encamp against them, and reduce them to serious straits by cutting off their supplies of provisions.
[9.4] These considerations convinced Hannibal that it was impossible to raise the siege by an open attack, and he therefore changed his tactics. He imagined that if by a secret march he could suddenly appear in the neighbourhood of Rome, he might by the alarm which he would inspire in the inhabitants by his unexpected movement, perhaps do something worth while against the city itself; or, if he could not do that, would at least force Appius either to raise the siege of Capua, in order to hasten to the relief of his native town, or to divide the Roman forces; which would then be easier for him to conquer in detail.
[9.5] With this purpose in his mind he sent a letter-carrier into Capua. This he did by persuading one of his Libyans to desert to the Roman camp, and thence to Capua. He took this trouble to secure the safe delivery of his letter, because he was very much afraid that the Capuans, if they saw him departing, would consider that he despaired of them, and would therefore give up hope and surrender to the Romans. He wrote therefore an explanation of his design, and sent the Libyan the day after, in order that the Capuans, being acquainted with the purpose of his departure, might go on courageously sustaining the siege.
[9.5] When the news had arrived at Rome that Hannibal had encamped over against their lines, and was actually besieging their forces, there was a universal excitement and terror, from a feeling that the result of the impending battle would decide the whole war. Consequently, with one heart and soul, the citizens had all devoted themselves to sending out reinforcements and making preparations for this struggle. On their part, the Capuans were encouraged by the receipt of Hannibal’s letter, and by thus learning the object of the Carthaginian movement, to stand by their determination, and to await the issue of this new hope. At the end of the fifth day, therefore, after his arrival on the ground, Hannibal ordered his men to take their supper as usual, and leave their watch-fires burning; and started with such secrecy, that none of the enemy knew what was happening. He took the road through Samnium, and marched at a great pace and without stopping, his skirmishers always keeping before him to reconnoitre and occupy all the posts along the route: and while those in Rome had their thoughts still wholly occupied with Capua and the campaign there, he crossed the Anio without being observed; and having arrived at a distance of not more than forty stades from Rome, there pitched his camp.
[9.6] On this being known at Rome, the utmost confusion and terror prevailed among the inhabitants,— this movement of Hannibal’s being as unexpected as it was sudden; for he had never been so close to the city before. At the same time their alarm was increased by the idea at once occurring to them, that he would not have ventured so near, if it were not that the armies at Capua were destroyed. Accordingly, the men at once went to line the walls, and the points of vantage in the defences of the town; while the women went round to the temples of the gods and implored their protection, sweeping the pavements of the temples with their hair: for this is their customary way of behaving when any serious danger comes upon their country. But just as Hannibal had encamped, and was intending to attempt the city itself next day, an extraordinary coincidence occurred which proved fortunate for the preservation of Rome.
[9.6] For Gnaeus Fulvius and Publius Sulpicius, having already enrolled one consular army, had bound the men with the usual oath to appear at Rome armed on that very day; and were also engaged on that day in drawing out the lists and testing the men for the other army:¹ whereby it so happened that a large number of men had been collected in Rome spontaneously in the very nick of time. These troops the Consuls boldly led outside the walls, and, entrenching themselves there, checked Hannibal’s intended movement. For the Carthaginians were at first eager to advance, and were not altogether without hope that they would be able to take Rome itself by assault. But when they saw the enemy drawn up in order, and learnt before long from a prisoner what had happened, they abandoned the idea of attacking the city, and began devastating the country-side instead, and setting fire to the houses. In these first raids they collected an innumerable amount of booty, for the field of plunder upon which they were entered was one into which no one had ever expected an enemy to set foot.
[9.7] But presently, when the Consuls ventured to encamp within ten stades of him, Hannibal broke up his quarters before daylight. He did so for three reasons:—first, because he had collected an enormous booty; secondly, because he had given up all hope of taking Rome; and lastly, because he reckoned that the time had now come at which he expected, according to his original idea, that Appius would have learnt the danger threatening Rome, and would have raised the siege of Capua and come with his whole force to the relief of the city; or at any rate would hurry up with the greater part, leaving a detachment to carry on the siege. Publius had caused the bridges over the Anio to be broken down, and thus compelled Hannibal to get his army across by a ford; and he now attacked the Carthaginians as they were engaged in making the passage of the stream and caused them great distress. They were not able however to strike an important blow, owing to the number of Hannibal’s cavalry, and the activity of the Numidians in every part of the field. But before retiring to their camp they wrested the greater part of the booty from them, and killed about three hundred men; and then, being convinced that the Carthaginians were beating a hasty retreat in a panic, they followed in their rear, keeping along the line of hills. At first Hannibal continued to march at a rapid pace, being anxious to meet the force which he expected; but at the end of the fifth day, being informed that Appius had not left the siege of Capua, he halted; and waiting for the enemy to come up, made an attack upon his camp before daylight, killed a large number of them, and drove the rest out of their camp. But when day broke, and he saw the Romans in a strong position upon a steep hill, to which they had retired, he decided not to continue his attack upon them; but marching through Daunia and Bruttium he appeared at Rhegium, so unexpectedly, that he was within an ace of capturing the city, and did cut off all who were out in the country; and during this excursion captured a very large number of the Rhegini.
[9.8] It seems to me that the courage and determination both of the Carthaginians and Romans at this crisis were truly remarkable; and merit quite as much admiration as the conduct of Epaminondas, which I will describe here for the sake of pointing the comparison.
[9.8] He reached Tegea with the allies, and when he saw that the Lacedaemonians with their own forces in full were come to Mantinea, and that their allies had mustered together in the same city, with the intention of offering the Thebans battle; having given orders to his men to get their supper early, he led his army out immediately after nightfall, on the pretext of being anxious to seize certain posts with a view to the coming battle. But having impressed this idea upon the common soldiers, he led them along the road to Lacedaemon itself; and having arrived at the city about the third hour of his march, contrary to all expectation, and finding Sparta destitute of defenders, he forced his way right up to the market-place, and occupied the quarters of the town which slope down to the river. Then however a contretemps occurred: a deserter made his way into Mantinea and told Agesilaus what was going on. Assistance accordingly arrived just as the city was on the point of being taken; and Epaminondas was disappointed of his hope. But having caused his men to get their breakfast along the bank of the Eurotas, and recovered them from their fatigue, he started to march back again by the same road, calculating that, as the Lacedaemonians and their allies had come to the relief of Sparta, Mantinea would in its turn be left undefended: which turned out to be the case. So he exhorted the Thebans to exert themselves; and, after a rapid night march, arrived at Mantinea about midday, finding it entirely destitute of defenders.
[9.8] But the Athenians, who were at that time zealously supporting the Lacedaemonians in their contest with the Thebans, had arrived in virtue of their treaty of alliance; and just as the Theban vanguard reached the temple of Poseidon, seven stades from the town, it happened that the Athenians showed themselves, by design, as if on the brow of the hill overhanging Mantinea. And when they saw them, the Mantineans who had been left behind at last ventured to man the wall and resist the attack of the Thebans. Therefore historians are justified in speaking with some dissatisfaction of these events,² when they say that the leader did everything which a good general could, but that, while conquering his enemies, Epaminondas was conquered by Fortune.
[9.9] Much the same remark applies to Hannibal. For who can refrain from regarding with respect and admiration a general capable of doing what he did? First he attempted by harassing the enemy with skirmishing attacks to raise the siege: having failed in this he made direct for Rome itself: baffled once more by a turn of fortune entirely independent of human calculation, he kept his pursuers in play,³ and waited till the moment was ripe to see whether the besiegers of Capua stirred: and finally, without relaxing in his determination, swept down upon his enemies to their destruction, and all but depopulated Rhegium. One would be inclined however to judge the Romans to be superior to the Lacedaemonians at this crisis. For the Lacedaemonians rushed off en masse at the first message and relieved Sparta, but, as far as they were concerned, lost Mantinea. The Romans guarded their own city without breaking up the siege of Capua: on the contrary, they remained unshaken and firm in their purpose, and in fact from that time pressed the Capuans with renewed spirit.
[9.9] I have not said this for the sake of making a panegyric on either the Romans or Carthaginians, whose great qualities I have already remarked upon more than once: but for the sake of those who are in office among the one or the other people, or who are in future times to direct the affairs of any state whatever; that by the memory, or actual contemplation, of exploits such as these they may be inspired with emulation. For in an adventurous and hazardous policy it often turns out that audacity was the truest safety and the finest sagacity;⁴ and success or failure does not affect the credit and excellence of the original design, so long as the measures taken are the result of deliberate thought. . . .
[9.9] When the Romans were besieging Tarentum, Bomilcar the admiral of the Carthaginian fleet came to its relief with a very large force; and being unable to afford efficient aid to those in the town, owing to the strict blockade maintained by the Romans, without meaning to do so he used up more than he brought; and so after having been constrained by entreaties and large promises to come, he was afterwards forced at the earnest supplication of the people to depart. . . .
[9.10] A city is not really adorned by what is brought from without, but by the virtue of its own inhabitants. . . .
[9.10] The Romans, then, decided to transfer these things to their own city and to leave nothing behind. Whether they were right in doing so, and consulted their true interests or the reverse, is a matter admitting of much discussion; but I think the balance of argument is in favour of believing it to have been wrong then, and wrong now. If such had been the works by which they had exalted their country, it is clear that there would have been some reason in transferring thither the things by which they had become great. But the fact was that, while leading lives of the greatest simplicity themselves, as far as possible removed from the luxury and extravagance which these things imply, they yet conquered the men who had always possessed them in the greatest abundance and of the finest quality. Could there have been a greater mistake than theirs? Surely it would be an incontestable error for a people to abandon the habits of the conquerors and adopt those of the conquered; and at the same time involve itself in that jealousy which is the most dangerous concomitant of excessive prosperity. For the looker-on never congratulates those who take what belongs to others, without a feeling of jealousy mingling with his pity for the losers. But suppose such prosperity to go on increasing, and a people to accumulate into its own hands all the possessions of the rest of the world, and moreover to invite in a way the plundered to share in the spectacle they present, in that case surely the mischief is doubled. For it is no longer a case of the spectators pitying their neighbours, but themselves, as they recall the ruin of their own country. Such a sight produces an outburst, not of jealousy merely, but of rage against the victors. For the reminder of their own disaster serves to enhance their hatred of the authors of it. To sweep the gold and silver, however, into their own coffers was perhaps reasonable; for it was impossible for them to aim at universal empire without crippling the means of the rest of the world, and securing the same kind of resources for themselves. But they might have left in their original sites things that had nothing to do with material wealth; and thus at the same time have avoided exciting jealousy, and raised the reputation of their country: adorning it, not with pictures and statues, but with dignity of character and greatness of soul. I have spoken thus much as a warning to those who take upon themselves to rule over others, that they may not imagine that, when they pillage cities, the misfortunes of others are an honour to their own country. The Romans, however, when they transferred these things to Rome, used such of them as belonged to individuals to increase the splendour of private establishments, and such as belonged to the state to adorn the city. . . .

### Spain

[9.11] The leaders of the Carthaginians, though they had conquered their enemies, could not control themselves: and having made up their minds that they had put an end to the Roman war, they began quarrelling with each other, finding continual subjects of dispute through the innate covetousness and ambition of the Phoenician character; among whom Hasdrubal, son of Gesco, pushed his authority to such a pitch of iniquity as to demand a large sum of money from Andobales, the most faithful of all their Iberian friends, who had some time before lost his chieftainship for the sake of the Carthaginians, and had but recently recovered it through his loyalty to them. When Andobales, trusting to his long fidelity to Carthage, refused this demand, Hasdrubal got up a false charge against him and compelled him to give up his daughters as hostages. . . .

### On the Art of Commanding Armies

[9.12] The chances and accidents that attend military expeditions require great circumspection; and it is possible to provide for all of them with precision, provided that a man gives his mind to the conduct of his plan of campaign. Now that fewer operations in war are carried out openly and by mere force, than by stratagem and the skilful use of opportunity, any one that chooses may readily learn from the history of the past. And again that operations depending on the choice of opportunity oftener fail than succeed is easily proved from experience. Nor can there be any doubt that the greater part of such failures are due to the folly or carelessness of the leaders. It is time therefore to inquire into the rules of this art of strategy.
[9.12] Such things as occur in campaigns without having been calculated upon in any way we must not speak of as operations, but as accidents or casualties. It is the conduct of a campaign in accordance with an exact plan that I am to set forth: omitting all such things as do not fall under a scientific rule, and have no fixed design.
[9.13] Every operation requires a time fixed for its commencement, a period and place for its execution, secrecy, definite signals, persons by whom and with whom it is to be executed, and a settled plan for conducting it. It is evident that the man who has rightly provided for each of these details will not fail in the ultimate result, while he who has neglected any single one of them will fail in the whole. Such is the order of nature, that one insignificant circumstance will suffice for failure, while for success rigid perfection of every detail is barely enough.
[9.13] Leaders then should neglect no single point in conducting such expeditions.
[9.13] Now the head and front of such precautions is silence; and not to allow either joy at the appearance of an unexpected hope, or fear, or familiarity, or natural affection, to induce a man to communicate his plans to any one unconcerned, but to impart it to those and those alone without whom it is impossible to complete his plan, and not even to them a moment sooner than necessary, but only when the exigencies of the particular service make it inevitable. It is necessary, moreover, not only to be silent with the tongue, but much more so in the mind. For it has happened to many generals before now, while preserving an inviolable silence, to betray their thoughts either by the expression of their countenances or by their actions.
[9.13] The second requisite is to know accurately the conditions under which marches by day or night may be performed, and the distances to which they can extend, and not only marches on land, but also voyages by sea.
[9.13] The third and most important is to have some knowledge of the seasons, and to be able to adapt the design to them.
[9.13] Nor again is the selection of the ground for the operation to be regarded as unimportant, since it often happens that it is this which makes what seems impossible possible, and what seemed possible impossible.
[9.13] Finally there must be no neglect of the subject of signals and counter signals; and the choice of persons by whom and with whom the operation is to be carried out.
[9.14] Of these points some are learnt by experience, some from history, and others by the study of scientific strategy. It is a most excellent thing too that the general should have a personal knowledge both of the roads, and the locality which he has to reach, and its natural features, as well as of the persons by whom and with whom he is to act. If that is not possible, the next best thing is that he should make careful inquiries and not trust just any one: and men who undertake to act as guides to such places should always deposit security with those whom they are conducting.
[9.14] These,—and other points like them, it is perhaps possible that leaders may learn sufficiently from the mere study of strategy, whether practical or in books. But scientific investigation requires scientific processes and demonstrations, especially in astronomy and geometry; the working out of which is not much to our present point, though their results are important, and may contribute largely to the success of such undertakings.
[9.14] The most important operation in astronomy is the calculation of the lengths of the days and nights. If these had been uniform it would not have been a matter requiring any study, but the knowledge would have been common to all the world: since however they not only differ with each other but also with themselves, it is plainly necessary to be acquainted with the increase and diminution of both the one and the other. How can a man calculate a march, and the distance practicable in a day or in a night, if he is unacquainted with the variation of these periods of time? In fact nothing can be done up to time without this knowledge,—it is inevitable otherwise that a man should be sometimes too late and sometimes too soon. And these operations are the only ones in which being too soon is a worse fault than being too late. For the general who overstays the proper hour of action only misses his chance, since he can find out that he has done so before he arrives, and so get off safely: but he that anticipates the hour is detected when he comes up; and so not only misses his immediate aim, but runs a risk of ruining himself altogether.
[9.15] In all human undertakings opportuneness is the most important thing, but especially in operations of war. Therefore a general must have at his fingers’ ends the season of the summer and winter solstice, the equinoxes, and the periods between them in which the days and nights increase and diminish. For it is by this knowledge alone that he can compute the distance that can be done whether by sea or land. Again, he must necessarily understand the subdivisions both of the day and the night, in order to know at what hour to order the reveillé, or the march out; for the end cannot be attained unless the beginning be rightly taken. As for the periods of the day, they may be observed by the shadows or by the sun’s course, and the quarter of the heaven in which it has arrived, but it is difficult to do the same for the night, unless a man is familiar with the phenomenon of the twelve signs of the Zodiac, and their law and order: and this is easy to those who have studied astronomy. For since, though the nights are unequal in length, at least six of the signs of the Zodiac are nevertheless above the horizon every night, it is plain that in the same portions of every night equal portions of the twelve signs of the Zodiac rise. Now as it is known what portion of the sphere is occupied by the sun during the day, it is evident that when he has set the arc subtended by the diameter of his arc must rise. Therefore the length of the night is exactly commensurate with the portion of the Zodiac which appears above the horizon after sunset. And, given that we know the number and size of the signs of the Zodiac, the corresponding divisions of the night are also known. If however the nights be cloudy, the moon must be watched, since owing to its size its light as a general rule is always visible, at whatsoever point in the heaven it may be. The hour may be guessed sometimes by observing the time and place of its rising, or again of its setting, if you only have sufficient acquaintance with this phenomenon to be familiar with the daily variation of its rising. And the law which it too follows admits of being easily observed; for its revolution is limited by the period of one month, which serves as a model to which all subsequent revolutions conform.
[9.16] And here one may mention with admiration that Homer represents Ulysses, that truest type of a leader of men, taking observations of the stars, not only to direct his voyages, but his operations on land also. For such accidents as baffle expectation, and are incapable of being accurately reckoned upon, are quite sufficient to bring us to great and frequent distress, for instance, downpours of rain and rise of torrents, excessive frosts and snows, misty and cloudy weather, and other things like these;—but if we also neglect to provide for those which can be foreseen, is it not likely that we shall have ourselves to thank for frequent failures? None of these means then must be neglected, if we wish to avoid those errors into which many others are said to have fallen, as well as the particular generals whom I am about to mention by way of examples.
[9.17] When Aratus, the Strategus of the Achaean league, attempted to take Cynaetha by treachery, he arranged a day with those in the town who were co-operating with him, on which he was to arrive on the banks of the river which flows past Cynaetha, and to remain there quietly with his forces: while the party inside the town about midday, when they got an opportunity, were to send out one of their men quietly, wrapped in a cloak, and order him to take his stand upon a tomb agreed upon in front of the city; the rest were to attack the officers who were accustomed to guard the gate while taking their siesta. This being done, the Achaeans were to rise from their ambush and to make all haste to occupy the gate. These arrangements made, and the time having come, Aratus arrived; and having concealed himself down by the river, waited there for the signal. But about an hour before noon, a man, whose profession it was to keep a fine kind of sheep near the town, wishing to ask some business question of the shepherd, came out of the gate with his cloak on, and standing upon the same tomb looked round to find the shepherd. Whereupon Aratus, thinking that the signal had been given, hurried with all his men as fast as he could towards the gate. But the gate being hurriedly closed by the guard, owing to no preparations having yet been made by the party in the town, the result was that Aratus not only failed in his attempt but was the cause of the worst misfortunes to his partisans. For being thus detected they were dragged forward and put to death. What is one to say was the cause of this catastrophe? Surely that the general arranged only for a single signal, and being then quite young had no experience of the accuracy secured by double signals and counter-signals. On so small a point in war does the success or failure of an operation turn.
[9.18] Again the Spartan Cleomenes, when proposing to take Megalopolis by a stratagem, arranged with the guards of that part of the wall near what is called the Cavern to come out with all their men in the third watch, the hour at which his partisans were on duty on the wall; but not having taken into consideration the fact that at the time of the rising of the Pleiads the nights are very short, he started his army from Sparta about sunset. The result was that he was not able to get there in time, but being overtaken by daybreak, made a rash and ill-considered attempt to carry the town, and was repulsed with considerable loss and the danger of a complete overthrow. Now if he had, in accordance with his arrangement, hit the proper time, and led in his men while his partisans were in command of the entrance, he would not have failed in his attempt.
[9.18] Similarly, once more, King Philip, as I have already stated, when carrying on an intrigue in the city of Meliteia, made a mistake in two ways. The ladders which he brought were too short for their purpose, and he mistook the time. For having arranged to arrive about midnight, when every one was fast asleep, he started from Larissa and arrived in the territory of Meliteia too early, and was neither able to halt, for fear of his arrival being announced in the city, nor to get back again without being discovered. Being compelled therefore to continue his advance, he arrived at the city while the inhabitants were still awake. Consequently he could neither carry the wall by an escalade, because of the insufficient length of the ladders; nor enter by the gate, because it was too early for his partisans inside to help him. Finally, he did nothing but irritate the people of the town, and, after losing a considerable number of his own men, retired unsuccessful and covered with disgrace; having only given a warning to the rest of the world to distrust him and be on their guard against him.
[9.19] Again Nicias, the general of the Athenians, had it in his power to have saved the army besieging Syracuse, and had selected the proper time of the night for escaping the observation of the enemy, and retiring to a place of safety. And then because the moon was eclipsed, regarding it superstitiously as of evil portent, he stopped the army from starting. Thanks to this it came about that, when he started the next day, the enemy had obtained information of his intention, and army and generals alike fell into the hands of the Syracusans. Yet if he had asked about this from men acquainted with such phenomena, he might not only have avoided missing his opportunity for such an absurd reason, but have also used the occurrence for his own benefit owing to the ignorance of the enemy. For the ignorance of their neighbours contributes more than anything else to the success of the instructed.
[9.19] Such then are examples of the necessity of studying celestial phenomena. But as for securing the proper length of scaling ladders, the following is the method of making the calculation. Suppose the height of the wall to be given by one of the conspirators within, the measurement required for the ladders is evident; for example, if the height of the wall is ten feet or any other unit, the ladders must be full twelve; and the interval between the wall and the foot of the ladder must be half the length of the ladder, that the ladders may not break under the weight of those mounting if they are set farther away, nor be too steep to be safe if set nearer the perpendicular. But supposing it not to be possible to measure or get near the wall: the height of any object which rises perpendicularly on its base can be taken by those who choose to study mathematics.
[9.20] Once more, therefore, those who wish to succeed in military projects and operations must have studied geometry, not with professional completeness, but far enough to have a comprehension of proportion and equations. For it is not only in such cases that these are necessary, but also for raising the scale of the divisions of a camp. For sometimes the problem is to change the entire form of the camp, and yet to keep the same proportion between all the parts included: at other times to keep the same shape in the parts, and to increase or diminish the whole area on which the camp stands, adding or subtracting from all proportionally. On which point I have already spoken in more elaborate detail in my Notes on Military Tactics. For I do not think that any one will reasonably object to me that I add a great burden to strategy, in urging on those who endeavour to acquire it the study of astronomy and geometry: for, while rather rejecting all that is superfluous in these studies, and brought in for show and talk, as well as all idea of enjoining their prosecution beyond the point of practical utility, I am most earnest and eager for so much as is barely necessary. For it would be strange if those who aim at the sciences of dancing and flute-playing should study the preparatory sciences of rhythms and music, (and the like might be said of the pursuits of the palaestra), from the belief that the final attainment of each of these sciences requires the assistance of the latter; while the students of strategy are to feel aggrieved if they find that they require subsidiary sciences up to a certain point. That would mean that men practising common and inferior arts are more diligent and energetic than those who resolve to excel in the best and most dignified subject, which no man of sense would admit. . . .
[9.21] Most people calculate the area merely from the length of the circumference [of towns or camps]. Accordingly, when one says that the city of Megalopolis has a circuit of fifty stades, and that of Sparta forty-eight, but that Sparta is twice the size of Megalopolis, they look upon the assertion as incredible. And if one, by way of increasing the difficulty, were to say that a city or camp may have a circuit of forty stades and yet be double the size of one having a perimeter of a hundred, the statement would utterly puzzle them. The reason of this is that we do not remember the lessons in geometry taught us at school. I was led to make these remarks because it is not only common people, but actually some statesmen and military commanders, who have puzzled themselves sometimes by wondering whether it were possible that Sparta should be bigger, and that too by a great deal, than Megalopolis, while having a shorter circuit; and at other times by trying to conjecture the number of men by considering the mere length of a camp’s circuit. A similar mistake is also made in pronouncing as to the number of the inhabitants of cities. For most people imagine that cities in which the ground is broken and hilly contain more houses than a flat site. But the fact is not so; because houses are built at right angles not to sloping foundations but to the plains below, upon which the hills themselves are excrescences. And this admits of a proof within the intelligence of a child. For if one would imagine houses on slopes to be raised until they were of the same height; it is evident that the plane of the roofs of the houses thus united will be equal and parallel to the plane underlying the hills and foundations.
[9.21] So much for those who aspire to be leaders and statesmen and are yet ignorant and puzzled about such facts as these. . . .
[9.21] Those who do not enter upon undertakings with good will and zeal cannot be expected to give real help when the time comes to act. . . .

### The Hannibalian War, B.C. 211

[9.21b] Such being the position of the Romans and Carthaginians, Fortune continually oscillating between the two, we may say with the poet
[9.21b] “Pain hard by joy possessed the souls of each.”⁵ . . .
[9.21b] There is profound truth in the observation which I have often made, that it is impossible to grasp or get a complete view of the fairest of all subjects of contemplation, the tendency of history as a whole, from writers of partial histories. . . .
[9.22] Of all that befell the Romans and Carthaginians, good or bad, the cause was one man and one mind,—Hannibal. For it is notorious that he managed the Italian campaigns in person, and the Spanish by the agency of the elder of his brothers, Hasdrubal, and subsequently by that of Mago, the leaders who killed the two Roman generals in Spain about the same time. Again, he conducted the Sicilian campaign at first through Hippocrates and afterwards through Myttonus⁶ the Libyan. So also in Greece and Illyria: and, by brandishing before their faces the dangers arising from these latter places, he was enabled to distract the attention of the Romans, thanks to his understanding with Philip. So great and wonderful is the influence of a Man, and a mind duly fitted by original constitution for any undertaking within the reach of human powers.
[9.22] But since the position of affairs has brought us to an inquiry into the genius of Hannibal, the occasion seems to me to demand that I should explain in regard to him the peculiarities of his character which have been especially the subject of controversy. Some regard him as having been extraordinarily cruel, some exceedingly grasping of money. But to speak the truth of him, or of any person engaged in public affairs, is not easy. Some maintain that men’s real natures are brought out by their circumstances, and that they are detected when in office, or as some say when in misfortunes, though they have up to that time completely maintained their secrecy. I, on the contrary, do not regard this as a sound dictum. For I think that men in these circumstances are compelled, not only occasionally but frequently, either by the suggestions of friends or the complexity of affairs, to speak and act contrary to their real principles.
[9.23] And there are many proofs of this to be found in past history if any one will give the necessary attention. Is it not universally stated by the historians that Agathocles, tyrant of Sicily, after having the reputation of extreme cruelty in his original measures for the establishment of his dynasty, when he had once become convinced that his power over the Siceliots was firmly established, is considered to have become the most humane and mild of rulers? Again, was not Cleomenes of Sparta a most excellent king, a most cruel tyrant, and then again as a private individual most obliging and benevolent? And yet it is not reasonable to suppose the most opposite dispositions to exist in the same nature. They are compelled to change with the changes of circumstances: and so some rulers often display to the world a disposition as opposite as possible to their true nature. Therefore the natures of men not only are not brought out by such things, but on the contrary are rather obscured. The same effect is produced also not only in commanders, despots, and kings, but in states also, by the suggestions of friends. For instance, you will find the Athenians responsible for very few tyrannical acts, and of many kindly and noble ones, while Aristeides and Pericles were at the head of the state: but quite the reverse when Cleon and Chares were so. And when the Lacedaemonians were supreme in Greece, all the measures taken by King Cleombrotus were conceived in the interests of their allies, but those by Agesilaus not so. The characters of states therefore vary with the variations of their leaders. King Philip again, when Taurion and Demetrius were acting with him, was most impious in his conduct, but when Aratus or Chrysogonus, most humane.
[9.24] The case of Hannibal seems to me to be on a par with these. His circumstances were so extraordinary and shifting, his closest friends so widely different, that it is exceedingly difficult to estimate his character from his proceedings in Italy. What those circumstances suggested to him may easily be understood from what I have already said, and what is immediately to follow; but it is not right to omit the suggestions made by his friends either, especially as this matter may be rendered sufficiently clear by one instance of the advice offered him. At the time that Hannibal was meditating the march from Iberia to Italy with his army, he was confronted with the extreme difficulty of providing food and securing provisions, both because the journey was thought to be of insuperable length, and because the barbarians that lived in the intervening country were so numerous and savage. It appears that at that time this difficulty frequently came on for discussion at the council; and that one of his friends, called Hannibal Monomachus, gave it as his opinion that there was one and only one way by which it was possible to get as far as Italy. Upon Hannibal bidding him speak out, he said that they must teach the army to eat human flesh, and make them accustomed to it. Hannibal could say nothing against the boldness and effectiveness of the idea, but was unable to persuade himself or his friends to entertain it. It is this man’s acts in Italy that they say were attributed to Hannibal, to maintain the accusation of cruelty, as well as such as were the result of circumstances.
[9.25] Fond of money indeed he does seem to have been to a conspicuous degree, and to have had a friend of the same character—Mago, who commanded in Bruttium. That account I got from the Carthaginians themselves; for natives know best not only which way the wind lies, as the proverb has it, but the characters also of their fellow-countrymen. But I heard a still more detailed story from Massanissa, who maintained the charge of money-loving against all Carthaginians generally, but especially against Hannibal and Mago called the Samnite. Among other stories, he told me that these two men had arranged a most generous subdivision of operations between each other from their earliest youth; and though they had each taken a very large number of cities in Iberia and Italy by force or fraud, they had never taken part in the same operation together; but had always schemed against each other, more than against the enemy, in order to prevent the one being with the other at the taking of a city: that they might neither quarrel in consequence of things of this sort, nor have to divide the profit on the ground of their equality of rank.
[9.26] The influence of friends then, and still more that of circumstances, in doing violence to and changing the natural character of Hannibal, is shown by what I have narrated and will be shown by what I have to narrate. For as soon as Capua fell into the hands of the Romans the other cities naturally became restless, and began to look round for opportunities and pretexts for revolting back again to Rome. It was then that Hannibal seems to have been at his lowest point of distress and despair. For neither was he able to keep a watch upon all the cities so widely removed from each other,—while he remained entrenched at one spot, and the enemy were manœuvering against him with several armies,— nor could he divide his force into many parts; for he would have put an easy victory into the hands of the enemy by becoming inferior to them in numbers, and finding it impossible to be personally present at all points. Wherefore he was obliged to completely abandon some of the cities, and withdraw his garrisons from others: being afraid lest, in the course of the revolutions which might occur, he should lose his own soldiers as well. Some cities again he made up his mind to treat with treacherous violence, removing their inhabitants to other cities, and giving their property up to plunder; in consequence of which many were enraged with him, and accused him of impiety or cruelty. For the fact was that these movements were accompanied by robberies of money, murders, and violence, on various pretexts at the hands of the outgoing or incoming soldiers in the cities, because they always supposed that the inhabitants that were left behind were on the verge of turning over to the enemy. It is, therefore, very difficult to express an opinion on the natural character of Hannibal, owing to the influence exercised on it by the counsel of friends and the force of circumstances. The prevailing notion about him, however, at Carthage was that he was greedy of money, at Rome that he was cruel.⁷ . . .

### Agrigentum

[9.27] The city of Agrigentum is not only superior to most cities in the particulars I have mentioned, but above all in beauty and elaborate ornamentation. It stands within eighteen stades of the sea, so that it participates in every advantage from that quarter; while its circuit of fortification is particularly strong both by nature and art. For its wall is placed on a rock, steep and precipitous, on one side naturally, on the other made so artificially. And it is enclosed by rivers: for along the south side runs the river of the same name as the town, and along the west and south-west side the river called Hypsas. The citadel overlooks the city exactly at the south-east, girt on the outside by an impassable ravine, and on the inside with only one approach from the town. On the top of it is a temple of Athene and of Zeus Atabyrius as at Rhodes: for as Agrigentum was founded by the Rhodians, it is natural that this deity should have the same appellation as at Rhodes. The city is sumptuously adorned in other respects also with temples and colonnades. The temple of Zeus Olympius is still unfinished, but in its plan and dimensions it seems to be inferior to no temple whatever in all Greece. . . .
[9.27] Marcus Valerius persuaded these refugees, on giving them a pledge for the security of their lives, to leave Sicily and go to Italy, on condition that they should receive pay from the people of Rhegium for plundering Bruttium, and retain all booty obtained from hostile territory. . . .

### Greece: Philip Reduces Thessaly

[9.28] Speech of Chlaeneas, the Aetolian, at Sparta. In the autumn of B. C. 211 the Consul-designate, M. Valerius Laevinus, induced the Aetolians, Scopas being their Strategus, to form an alliance with them against Philip. The treaty, as finally concluded, embraced also the Eleans, Lacedaemonians, King Attalus of Pergamum, the Thracian King Pleuratus, and the Illyrian Scerdilaidas. A mission was sent from Aetolia to persuade the Lacedaemonians to join. See Livy, 26, 24.
[9.28] “That the Macedonian supremacy, men of Sparta, was the beginning of slavery to the Greeks, I am persuaded that no one will venture to deny; and you may satisfy yourselves by looking at it thus. There was a league of Greeks living in the parts towards Thrace who were colonists from Athens and Chalcis, of which the most conspicuous and powerful was the city of Olynthus. Having enslaved and made an example of this town, Philip not only became master of the Thraceward cities, but reduced Thessaly also to his authority by the terror which he had thus set up. Not long after this he conquered the Athenians in a pitched battle, and used his success with magnanimity, not from any wish to benefit the Athenians—far from it, but in order that his favourable treatment of them might induce the other states to submit to him voluntarily. The reputation of your city was still such that it seemed likely, that, if a proper opportunity arose, it would recover its supremacy in Greece. Accordingly, without waiting for any but the slightest pretext, Philip came with his army and cut down everything standing in your fields, and destroyed the houses with fire. And at last, after destroying towns and open country alike, he assigned part of your territory to the Argives, part to Tegea and Megalopolis, and part to the Messenians: determined to benefit every people in spite of all justice, on the sole condition of their injuring you. Alexander succeeded Philip on the throne, and how he destroyed Thebes, because he thought that it contained a spark of Hellenic life, however small, you all I think know well.
[9.29] “And why need I speak in detail of how the successors of this king have treated the Greeks? For surely there is no man living, so uninterested in public affairs, as not to have heard how Antipater in his victory at Lamia treated the unhappy Athenians, as well as the other Greeks; and how he went so far in violence and brutality as to institute man-hunters, and send them to the various cities to catch all who had ever spoken against, or in any way annoyed, the royal family of Macedonia: of whom some were dragged by force from the temples, and others from the very altars, and put to death with torture, and others who escaped were forced to leave Greece entirely; nor had they any refuge save the Aetolian nation alone. For the Aetolians were the only people in Greece who withstood Antipater in behalf of those unjustly defrauded of safety to their lives: they alone faced the invasion of Brennus and his barbarian army: and they alone came to your aid when called upon, with a determination to assist you in regaining your ancestral supremacy in Greece.⁸ Who again is ignorant of the deeds of Cassander, Demetrius, and Antigonus Gonatas? For owing to their recency the knowledge of them still remains distinct. Some of them by introducing garrisons, and others by implanting despots in the cities, effectually secured that every state should share the infamous brand of slavery. But passing by all these I will now come to the last Antigonus,⁹ lest any of you, viewing his policy unsuspiciously, should consider that you are under an obligation to the Macedonians. For it was with no purpose of saving the Achaeans that he undertook the war against you, nor from any dislike of the tyranny of Cleomenes inducing him to free the Lacedaemonians. If any man among you holds this opinion, he must be simple indeed. No! It was because he saw that his own power would not be secure if you got the rule of the Peloponnese; and because he saw that Cleomenes was of a nature well calculated to secure this object, and that fortune was splendidly seconding your efforts, that he came in a tumult of fear and jealousy, not to help Peloponnesians, but to destroy your hopes and abase your power. Therefore you do not owe the Macedonians so much gratitude for not destroying your city when they had taken it, as hostility and hatred, for having more than once already stood in your way, when you were strong enough to grasp the supremacy of Greece.”
[9.30] “Again, what need to speak more on the wickedness of Philip? For of his impiety towards the gods his outrages on the temples at Thermus are a sufficient proof; and of his cruelty towards man, his perfidy and treachery to the Messenians.
[9.30] “So much for the past. But as to the present resolution before you, it is in a way necessary to draft it, and vote on it, as though you were deciding on war, and yet in real truth not to regard it as a war. For it is impossible for the Achaeans, beaten as they are, to damage your territory: but I imagine that they will be only too thankful to heaven if they can but protect their own, when they find themselves surrounded by war with Eleans and Messenians as allied to us, and with ourselves at the same time. And Philip, I am persuaded, will soon desist from his attack, when involved in a war by land with Aetolians, and by sea with Rome and King Attalus. The future may be easily conjectured from the past. For if he always failed to subdue Aetolians when they were his only enemies, can we conceive that he will be able to support the war if all these combine?
[9.31] “I have said thus much with the deliberate purpose of showing you that you are not hampered by previous engagements, but are entirely free in your deliberations as to which you ought to join—Aetolians or Macedonians. If you are under an earlier engagement, and have already made up your minds on these points, what room is there for further argument? For if you had made the alliance now existing between yourselves and us, previous to the good services done you by Antigonus, there might perhaps have been some reason for questioning whether it were right to neglect an old treaty in gratitude for recent favours. But since it was subsequent to this much vaunted freedom and security given you by Antigonus, and with which they are perpetually taunting you, that, after deliberation and frequent consideration as to which of the two you ought to join, you decided to combine with us Aetolians; and have actually exchanged pledges of fidelity with us, and have fought by our side in the late war against Macedonia, how can any one entertain a doubt on the subject any longer? For the obligations of kindness between you and Antigonus and Philip were cancelled then. It now remains for you to point out some subsequent wrong done you by Aetolians, or subsequent favour by Macedonians: or if neither of these exist, on what grounds are you now, at the instance of the very men to whom you justly refused to listen formerly, when no obligation existed, about to undo treaties and oaths—the strongest bonds of fidelity existing among mankind.”
[9.31] Such was the conclusion of what was considered a very cogent speech by Chlaeneas.
[9.32] After him the ambassador of the Acarnanians, Lyciscus, came forward: and at first he paused, seeing the multitude talking to each other about the last speech; but when at last silence was obtained, he began his speech as follows:—
[9.32] “I and my colleagues, men of Sparta, have been sent to you by the common league of the Acarnanians; and as we have always shared in the same prospects as the Macedonians, we consider that this mission also is common to us and them. For just as on the field of war, owing to the superiority and magnitude of the Macedonian force, our safety is involved in their valour; so, in the controversies of diplomacy, our interests are inseparable from the rights of the Macedonians. Now Chlaeneas in the peroration of his address gave a summary of the obligations existing between the Aetolians and yourselves. For he said, ‘If subsequent to your making the alliance with them any fresh injury or offence had been committed by Aetolians, or any kindness done by Macedonians, the present proposal ought properly to be discussed as a fresh start; but that if, nothing of the sort having taken place, we believe that by quoting the services of Antigonus, and your former decrees, we shall be able to annul existing oaths and treaties, we are the greatest simpletons in the world.’ To this I reply by acknowledging that I must indeed be the most foolish of men, and that the arguments I am about to put forward are indeed futile, if, as he maintains, nothing fresh has happened, and Greek affairs are in precisely the same position as before. But if exactly the reverse be the case, as I shall clearly prove in the course of my speech,—then I imagine that I shall be shown to give you some salutary advice, and Chlaeneas to be quite in the wrong. We are come, then, expressly because we are convinced that it is needful for us to speak on this very point: namely, to point out to you that it is at once your duty and your interest, after hearing of the evils threatening Greece, to adopt if possible a policy excellent and worthy of yourselves by uniting your prospects with ours; or if that cannot be, at least to abstain from this movement for the present.
[9.33] “But since the last speaker has ventured to go back to ancient times for his denunciations of the Macedonian royal family, I feel it incumbent on me also to say a few words first on these points, to remove the misconception of those who have been carried away by his words.
[9.33] “Chlaeneas said, then, that Philip son of Amyntas became master of Thessaly by the ruin of Olynthus. But I conceive that not only the Thessalians, but the other Greeks also, were preserved by Philip’s means. For at the time when Onomarchus and Philomelus, in defiance of religion and law, seized Delphi and made themselves masters of the treasury of the god, who is there among you who does not know that they collected such a mighty force as no Greek dared any longer face? Nay, along with this violation of religion, they were within an ace of becoming lords of all Greece also. At that crisis Philip volunteered his assistance; destroyed the tyrants, secured the temple, and became the author of freedom to the Greeks, as is testified even to posterity by the facts. For Philip was unanimously elected general-in-chief by land and sea, not, as my opponent ventured to assert, as one who had wronged Thessaly; but on the ground of his being a benefactor of Greece: an honour which no one had previously obtained. ‘Ay, but,’ he says, ‘Philip came with an armed force into Laconia.’ Yes, but it was not of his own choice, as you know: he reluctantly consented to do so, after repeated invitations and appeals by the Peloponnesians, under the name of their friend and ally. And when he did come, pray observe, Chlaeneas, how he behaved. Though he could have availed himself of the wishes of the neighbouring states for the destruction of these men’s territory and the humiliation of their city, and have won much gratitude too by his act, he by no means lent himself to such a policy; but, by striking terror into the one and the other alike, he compelled both parties to accommodate their differences in a congress, to the common benefit of all: not putting himself forward as arbitrator of the points in dispute, but appointing a joint board of arbitration selected from all Greece. Is that a proceeding which deserves to be held up to reproach and execration?
[9.34] “Again, you bitterly denounced Alexander, because, when he believed himself to be wronged, he punished Thebes: but of his having exacted vengeance of the Persians for their outrages on all the Greeks you made no mention at all, nor of his having released us all in common from heavy miseries, by enslaving the barbarians, and depriving them of the supplies which they used for the ruin of the Greeks,—sometimes pitting the Athenians against the ancestors of these gentlemen here, at another the Thebans; nor finally of his having subjected Asia to the Greeks.
[9.34] “As for Alexander’s successors how had you the audacity to mention them? They were indeed, according to the circumstances of the time, on many occasions the authors of good to some and of harm to others: for which perhaps others might be allowed to bear them a grudge. But to you Aetolians it is in no circumstance open to do so,— you who have never been the authors of anything good to any one, but of mischief to many and on many occasions! Who was it that called in Antigonus son of Demetrius to the partition of the Achaean league? Who was it that made a sworn treaty with Alexander of Epirus for the enslaving and dismembering of Acarnania? Was it not you? What nation ever sent out military commanders duly accredited of the sort that you have? Men that ventured to do violence to the sanctity of asylum itself! Timaeus violated the sanctuary of Poseidon on Taenarum, and of Artemis at Lusi. Pharylus and Polycritus plundered, the former the sacred enclosure of Here in Argos, the latter that of Poseidon at Mantinea. What again about Lattabus and Nicostratus? Did not they make a treacherous attack on the assembly of the Pan-Boeotians in time of peace, committing outrages worthy of Scythians and Gauls? You will find no such crimes as these committed by the Diadochi.
[9.35] “Not being able to say anything in defence of any of these acts, you talk pompously about your having resisted the invasion of Delphi by the barbarians, and allege that for this Greece ought to be grateful to you. But if for this one service some gratitude is owing to the Aetolians; what high honour do the Macedonians deserve, who throughout nearly their whole lives are ceaselessly engaged in a struggle with the barbarians for the safety of the Greeks? For that Greece would have been continually involved in great dangers, if we had not had the Macedonians and the ambition of their kings as a barrier, who is ignorant? And there is a very striking proof of this. For no sooner had the Gauls conceived a contempt for the Macedonians, by their victory over Ptolemy Ceraunus, than, thinking the rest of no account, Brennus promptly marched into the middle of Greece. And this would often have happened if the Macedonians had not been on our frontiers.
[9.35] “However, though I have much that I could say on the past, I think this is enough. Of all the actions of Philip, they have selected his destruction of the temple, to fasten the charge of impiety upon him. They did not add a word about their own outrage and crime, which they perpetrated in regard to the temples in Dium, and Dodona, and the sacred enclosures of the gods. The speaker should have mentioned this first. But anything you Aetolians have suffered you recount to these gentlemen with exaggeration: but the things you have inflicted unprovoked, though many times as numerous as the others, you pass over in silence; because you know full well that everybody lays the blame of acts of injustice and mischief on those who give the provocation by unjust actions themselves.
[9.36] “Of Antigonus I will only make mention so far, as to avoid appearing to despise what was done, or to treat as unimportant so great an undertaking. For my part I think that history does not contain the record of a more admirable service than that which Antigonus performed for you: indeed it appears to me to be unsurpassable. And the following facts will show this. Antigonus went to war with you and conquered you in a pitched battle. By force of arms he became master of your territory and city at once. He might have exercised all the rights of war upon you: but he was so far from inflicting any hardships upon you, that, besides other benefits, he expelled your tyrant and restored your laws and ancestral constitution. In return for which, in the national assemblies, calling the Greeks to witness your words, you proclaimed Antigonus your benefactor and preserver.
[9.36] “What then ought to have been your policy? I will speak what I really think, gentlemen of Sparta: and you will I am sure bear with me. For I shall do this now from no wish to go out of my way to bring railing accusations against you, but under the pressure of circumstances, and for the common good. What then am I to say? This: that both in the late war you ought to have allied yourselves not with Aetolians but with Macedonians; and now again, in answer to these invitations, you ought to join Philip rather than the former people. But, it may be objected, you will be breaking a treaty. Which will be the graver breach of right on your part,—to neglect a private arrangement made with Aetolians, or one that has been inscribed on a column and solemnly consecrated in the sight of all Greece? On what ground are you so careful of breaking faith with this people, from whom you have never received any favour, while you pay no heed to Philip and the Macedonians, to whom you owe even the very power of deliberating to-day? Do you regard it as a duty to keep faith with friends? Yet it is not so much a point of conscience to confirm written pledges of faith, as it is a violation of conscience to go to war with those who preserved you: and this is what, in the present instance, the Aetolians are come to demand of you.
[9.37] “Let it, however, be granted that what I have now said may in the eyes of severe critics be regarded as beside the subject. I will now return to the main point at issue, as they state it. It was this: ‘If the circumstances are the same now as at the time when you made alliance with the Aetolians, then your policy ought to remain on the same lines.’ That was their first proposition. ‘But if they have been entirely changed, then it is fair that you should now deliberate on the demands made to you as on a matter entirely new and unprejudiced.’ I ask you therefore, Cleonicus and Chlaeneas, who were your allies on the former occasion when you invited this people to join you? Were they not all the Greeks? But with whom are you now united, or to what kind of federation are you now inviting this people? Is it not to one with the foreigner? A mighty similarity exists, no doubt, in your minds, and no diversity at all! Then you were contending for glory and supremacy with Achaeans and Macedonians, men of kindred blood with yourselves, and with Philip their leader; now a war of slavery is threatening Greece against men of another race, whom you think to bring against Philip, but have really unconsciously brought against yourselves and all Greece. For just as men in the stress of war, by introducing into their cities garrisons superior in strength to their own forces, while successfully repelling all danger from the enemy, put themselves at the mercy of their friends,—just so are the Aetolians acting in the present case. For in their desire to conquer Philip and humble Macedonia, they have unconsciously brought such a mighty cloud from the west, as for the present perhaps will overshadow Macedonia first, but which in the sequel will be the origin of heavy evils to all Greece.
[9.38] “All Greeks indeed have need to be on the alert for the crisis which is coming on: but Lacedaemonians above all. For why was it, do you suppose, men of Sparta, that your ancestors, when Xerxes sent an ambassador to your town demanding earth and water, thrust the man into a well, and, throwing earth upon him, bade him take back word to Xerxes that he had got from the Lacedaemonians what he had demanded from them,—earth and water? Why was it again, do you suppose, that Leonidas and his men started forth to a voluntary and certain death? Was it not that they might have the glory of being the forlorn hope, not only of their own freedom, but of that of all Greece also? And it would indeed be a worthy action for descendants of such heroes as these to make a league with the barbarians now, and to serve with them; and to war against Epirotes, Achaeans, Acarnanians, Boeotians, Thessalians, and in fact against nearly every Greek state except Aetolians! To these last it is habitual to act thus: and to regard nothing as disgraceful, so long only as it is accompanied by an opportunity of plunder. It is not so, however, with you. And what must we expect these people to do, now that they have obtained the support of the Roman alliance? For when they obtained an accession of strength and support from the Illyrians, they at once set about acts of piracy at sea, and treacherously seized Pylus; while by land they stormed the city of Cleitor, and sold the Cynethans into slavery. Once before they made a treaty with Antigonus, as I said just now, for the destruction of the Achaean and Acarnanian races; and now they have done the same with Rome for the destruction of all Greece.
[9.39] “With a knowledge of such transactions before his eyes who could help suspecting an attack from Rome, and feeling abhorrence at the abandoned conduct of the Aetolians in daring to make such a treaty? They have already wrested Oeniadae and Nesus from the Acarnanians, and recently seized the city of the unfortunate Anticyreans, whom, in conjunction with the Romans, they have sold into slavery.¹⁰ Their children and women are led off by the Romans to suffer all the miseries which those must expect who fall into the hands of aliens; while the houses of the unhappy inhabitants are allotted among the Aetolians. Surely a noble alliance this to join deliberately! Especially for Lacedaemonians: who, after conquering the barbarians, decreed that the Thebans, for being the only Greeks that resolved to remain neutral during the Persian invasion, should pay a tenth of their goods to the gods.
[9.39] “The honourable course then, men of Sparta, and the one becoming your character, is to remember from what ancestors you are sprung; to be on your guard against an attack from Rome; to suspect the treachery of the Aetolians. Above all to recall the services of Antigonus: and so once more show your loathing for dishonest men; and, rejecting the friendship of the Aetolians, unite your hopes for the future with those of Achaia and Macedonia. If, however, any of your own influential citizens are intriguing against this policy, then at least remain neutral, and do not take part in the iniquities of these Aetolians. . . .”
[9.39] In the autumn of B. C. 211, Philip being in Thrace, Scopas made a levy of Aetolians to invade Acarnania. The Acarnanians sent their wives, children, and old men to Epirus, while the rest of them bound themselves by a solemn execration never to rejoin their friends except as conquerors of the invading Aetolians. Livy, 26, 25.
[9.40] When the Acarnanians heard of the intended invasion of the Aetolians, in a tumult of despair and fury they adopted a measure of almost frantic violence. . .
[9.40] If any one of them survived the battle and fled from the danger, they begged that no one should receive him in any city or give him a light for a fire. And this they enjoined on all with a solemn execration, and especially on the Epirotes, to the end that they should offer none of those who fled an asylum in their territory. . . .
[9.40] When Philip was informed of the invasion he advanced promptly to the relief of Acarnania; hearing of which the Aetolians returned home. Livy, l. c.
[9.40] Zeal on the part of friends, if shown in time, is of great service; but if it is dilatory and late, it renders the assistance nugatory,—supposing, of course, that they wish to keep the terms of their alliance, not merely on paper, but by actual deeds.¹¹ . . .
[9.41] Having determined to make his approach upon the town at the two towers, he erected opposite to them diggers’ sheds and rams; and opposite the space between the towers he erected a covered way between the rams, parallel to the wall. And when the plan was complete, the appearance of the works was very like the style of the wall. For the super-structures on the pent-houses had the appearance and style of towers, owing to the placing of the wattles side by side; and the space between looked like a wall, because the row of wattles at the top of the covered way were divided into battlements by the fashion in which they were woven. In the lowest division of these besieging towers the diggers employed in levelling inequalities, to allow the stands of the battering-rams to be brought up, kept throwing on earth, and the ram was propelled forward: in the second story were water vessels and other appliances for quenching fires, and along with them the catapults: and on the third a considerable body of men were placed to fight with all who tried to damage the rams; and they were on a level with the city towers. From the covered way between the besieging towers a double trench was to be dug towards the wall, between the city towers. There were also three batteries for stone-throwing machines, one of which carried stones of a talent weight, and the other two half that weight. From the camp to the pent-houses and diggers’ sheds underground tunnels had been constructed, to prevent men, going to the works from the camp or returning from the works, being wounded in any way by missiles from the town. These works were completed in a very few days, because the district round produced what was wanted for this service in abundance. For Echinus is situated on the Melian Gulf, facing south, exactly opposite the territory of Thronium, and enjoys a soil rich in every kind of produce; thanks to which circumstance Philip had no scarcity of anything he required for his purpose. Accordingly, as I said, as soon as the works were completed, they begun at once pushing the trenches and the siege machinery towards the walls. . . .¹²

### Asia and Egypt

[9.42] While Philip was investing Echinus, and had secured his position excellently on the side of the town, and had strengthened the outer line of his camp with a trench and wall, Publius Sulpicius, the Roman proconsul, and Dorimachus, Strategus of the Aetolians, arrived in person,—Publius with a fleet, and Dorimachus with an army of infantry and cavalry,—and assaulted Philip’s entrenchment. Their repulse led to greater exertions on Philip’s part in his attack upon the Echinaeans, who in despair surrendered to him. For Dorimachus was not able to reduce Philip by cutting off his supplies, as he got them by sea. . . .
[9.42] When Aegina was taken by the Romans, such of the inhabitants as had not escaped crowded together at the ships, and begged the proconsul to allow them to send ambassadors to cities of their kinsmen to obtain ransom. Publius at first returned a harsh answer, saying, that “When they were their own masters was the time that they ought to have sent ambassadors to their betters to ask for mercy, not now when they were slaves. A little while ago they had not thought an ambassador from him worthy of even a word; now that they were captives they expected to be allowed to send ambassadors to their kinsfolk: was that not sheer folly?” So at the time he dismissed those who came to him with these words. But next morning he called all the captives together and said that, as to the Aeginetans, he owed them no favour; but for the sake of the rest of the Greeks he would allow them to send ambassadors to get ransom, since that was the custom of their country. . . .
[9.43] The Euphrates rises in Armenia and flows through Syria and the country beyond to Babylonia. It seems to discharge itself into the Red Sea; but in point of fact it does not do so: for its waters are dissipated among the ditches dug across the fields before it reaches the sea. Accordingly the nature of this river is the reverse of that of others. For in other rivers the volume of water is increased in proportion to the greater distance traversed, and they are at their highest in winter and lowest in midsummer; but this river is fullest of water at the rising of the dog-star, and has the largest volume of water in Syria, which continually decreases as it advances. The reason of this is that the increase is not caused by the collection of winter rains, but by the melting of the snows; and its decrease by the diversion of its stream into the land, and its subdivision for the purposes of irrigation. It was this which on this occasion made the transport of the army slow, because as the boats were heavily laden, and the stream very low, the forces of the current did exceedingly little to help them down. . . .
[9.44] The Romans sent ambassadors to Ptolemy, wishing to be supplied with corn, as they were suffering from a great scarcity of it at home; and, moreover, when all Italy had been laid waste by the enemy’s troops up to the gates of Rome, and when all supplies from abroad were stopped by the fact that war was raging, and armies encamped, in all parts of the world except in Egypt. In fact the scarcity at Rome had come to such a pitch, that a Sicilian medimnus was sold for fifteen drachmae.¹³ But in spite of this distress the Romans did not relax in their attention to the war.

## Book X


### The Hannibalian War — The Recovery of Tarentum

[10.1] The distance from the strait and town of Rhegium to Tarentum is more than two thousand stades; and that portion of the shore of Italy is entirely destitute of harbours, except those of Tarentum: I mean the coast facing the Sicilian sea, and verging towards Greece, which contains the most populous barbarian tribes as well as the most famous of the Greek cities. For the Bruttii, Lucani, some portions of the Daunii, the Cabalii, and several others, occupy this quarter of Italy. So again this coast is lined by the Greek cities of Rhegium, Caulon, Locri, Croton, Metapontum, and Thurii: so that voyagers from Sicily or from Greece to any one of these cities are compelled to drop anchor in the harbours of Tarentum; and the exchange and commerce with all who occupy this coast of Italy take place in this city. One may judge of the excellence of its situation from the prosperity attained by the people of Croton; who, though only possessing roadsteads suitable for the summer, and enjoying therefore but a short season of mercantile activity, still have acquired great wealth, entirely owing, it seems, to the favourable situation of their town and harbour, which yet cannot be compared with those of Tarentum. For, even at this day, Tarentum is in a most convenient position in respect to the harbours of the Adriatic, and was formerly still more so. Since, from the Iapygian promontory as far as Sipontum, every one coming from the other side and dropping anchor at Italy always crossed to Tarentum, and used that city for his mercantile transactions as an emporium; for the town of Brundisium had not yet been founded in these times.¹⁴ Therefore Fabius regarded the recovery of it as of great importance, and, omitting everything else, turned his whole thoughts to this. . . .

### Publius Cornelius Scipio Africanus in Spain, B.C. 210-206. His Character

[10.2] Being about to narrate the exploits of Publius Scipio in Iberia, and in fact all the achievements in his life, I think it necessary to direct my readers’ attention, to begin with, to his moral and mental qualities. For as he is perhaps the most illustrious man of any born before the present generation, everybody seeks to know what kind of man he was, and what advantages from natural ability or experience he enjoyed, to account for a career so crowded with brilliant achievement; and yet is compelled to remain in the dark, or to entertain false opinions, because those who write about him have not kept to the truth. The soundness of this assertion will be rendered evident in the course of my narrative to all who are capable of estimating the noblest and most gallant of his exploits. Now all other writers represent him as a man favoured by fortune, who succeeded in his undertakings contrary to rational expectation, and by the mere force of circumstances. They consider apparently such men to be, so to speak, more god-like and worthy of admiration, than those who act in every case by calculation. They do not seem to be aware of the distinction between credit for good fortune and credit for good conduct in the case of such men; and that the former may be assigned to any one however commonplace, while the latter belongs to those alone who act from prudent calculation and clear intelligence: and it is these last whom we should look upon as the most god-like and god-beloved.
[10.2] Now it seems to me that in his character and views Publius was very like Lycurgus the legislator of the Lacedaemonians. For we must not suppose that it was from superstition that Lycurgus continually consulted the Pythian priestess in the establishment of the Lacedaemonian constitution; nor that Publius depended on dreams and ominous words for his success in securing empire for his country. But as both saw that the majority of mankind cannot be got to accept contentedly what is new and strange, nor to face dangers with courage, without some hope of divine favour,—Lycurgus, by always supporting his own schemes by an oracular response from the Pythia, secured better acceptation and credit for his ideas; and Publius, by always in like manner instilling into the minds of the vulgar an opinion of his acting on some divine suggestion in the formation of his designs, caused those under his command to confront dangerous services with greater courage and cheerfulness. But that he invariably acted on calculation and with foresight, and that the successful issue of his plans was always in harmony with rational expectation, will be evident by what I am about to relate.
[10.3] For that he was beneficent and high-minded is acknowledged; but that he was acute, sober-minded, and earnest in pursuit of his aims, no one will admit, except those who have lived with him, and contemplated his character, so to speak, in broad daylight. Of such Gaius Laelius was one. He took part in everything he did or said from boyhood to the day of his death; and he it was who convinced me of this truth: because what he said appeared to me to be likely in itself, and in harmony with the achievements of that great man. He told me that the first brilliant exploit of Publius was when his father fought the cavalry engagement with Hannibal near the Padus. He was then, as it seems, eighteen years old and on his first campaign. His father had given him a squadron of picked cavalry for his protection; but when in the course of the battle he saw his father surrounded by the enemy, with only two or three horsemen near him, and dangerously wounded, he first tried to cheer on his own squadron to go to his father’s assistance, but when he found them considerably cowed by the numbers of the enemy surrounding them, he appears to have plunged by himself with reckless courage into the midst of the enemy: whereupon, his comrades being forced to charge also, the enemy were everawed and divided their ranks to let them pass; and Publius the elder, being thus unexpectedly saved, was the first to address his son as his preserver in the hearing of the whole army.¹⁵ Having gained an acknowledged reputation for bravery by this exploit, he ever afterwards freely exposed himself to every sort of personal danger, whenever his country rested its hope of safety on him. And this is not the conduct of a general who trusts to luck, but of one who has a clear head.
[10.4] Subsequently, when his elder brother Lucius was a candidate for the Aedileship, which is about the most honourable office open to a “young” man at Rome: it being the custom for two patricians to be appointed, and there being many candidates, for some time he did not venture to stand for the same office as his brother. But as the day of election drew near, judging from the demeanour of the people that his brother would easily obtain the office, and observing that his own popularity with the multitude was very great, he made up his mind that the only hope of his brother’s success was that they should combine their candidatures. He therefore resolved to act as follows: His mother was going round to the temples and sacrificing to the gods in behalf of his brother, and was altogether in a state of eager expectation as to the result. She was the only parent whose wishes he had to consult; for his father was then on his voyage to Iberia, having been appointed to command in the war there. He therefore said to her that he had seen the same dream twice: for he thought that he was coming home from the Forum after being elected Aedile with his brother, and that she met them at the door and threw her arms round them and kissed them. His mother with true womanly feeling exclaimed, “Oh, that I might see that day!” He replied, “Do you wish us to try”? Upon her assenting, under the idea that he would not venture, but was only jesting on the spur of the moment (for of course he was quite a young man), he begged her to prepare him at once a white toga, such as it is the custom for candidates for office to wear.
[10.5] His mother thought no more about it: but Publius, having obtained a white toga, went to the Forum before his mother was awake. His boldness, as well as his previous popularity, secured him a brilliant reception from the people; and when he advanced to the spot assigned for candidates, and took his place by the side of his brother, the people not only invested him with the office, but his brother also for his sake; and both brothers returned home Aediles designate. The news having been suddenly brought to their mother, she rushed in the utmost delight to meet them at the door, and kissed the young men in an ecstasy of joy. Accordingly Publius was believed by all who had heard previously about his dream to have held commune with the gods, not merely in his sleep, but rather in a waking vision, and by day. But in point of fact there was no dream at all: Scipio was kind, open-handed, and courteous, and by these means had conciliated the favour of the multitude. But by a dexterous use of the occasion, both with the people and his mother, he obtained his purpose, and moreover got the reputation of acting under divine inspiration. For those persons, who, from dulness or want of experience, or idleness, can never take a clear view of the occasions or causes or connexion of events, are apt to give the gods and chance the credit for what is really effected by sagacity and far-seeing calculation. I have thought it worth while to say thus much, that my readers may not be misled by unfounded gossip to pass over this great man’s finest and most splendid qualities, I mean his wealth of resource and untiring diligence; which will become still more apparent when we come to recount his actual achievements.
[10.6] Such was the man who now assembled the soldiers and exhorted them not to be dismayed by the disaster which had befallen them. “For,” said he, “Romans have never been beaten by Carthaginians in a trial of valour. It was the result of treachery on the part of the Celtiberians, and of rashness, the two commanders getting cut off from each other owing to their trust in the alliance of these men. But now these two disadvantages are on the side of the enemy: for they are encamped at a wide distance from each other; and by their tyrannical conduct to their allies have alienated them all, and made them hostile to themselves. The consequence is that some of them are already sending messages to us; while the rest, as soon as they dare, and see that we have crossed the river, will gladly join us; not so much because they have any affection for us, as because they are eager to punish the outrages of the Carthaginians. Most important of all is the fact that the enemy are at variance with each other, and will refuse to fight against us in a body, and by thus engaging in detail will be more easily dealt with by us.” Looking to these facts, therefore, he bade them cross the river with confidence, and undertook that he and the other officers would see to the next step to be taken. With these words he left his colleague, Marcus Silanus, with five hundred horse to guard the ford, and to protect the allies on the north of the river, while he himself began taking his army across, without revealing his design to any one. As a matter of fact he had resolved to do nothing of what he gave out publicly, and had made up his mind to make a rapid attack upon the town called Iberian Carthage. This may be looked upon as the first and strongest proof of the judgment which I lately passed upon him. He was now only in his twenty-seventh year: and yet he, in the first place, undertook to accomplish what the magnitude of the previous disasters had made the world look upon as completely hopeless; and, in the second place, having undertaken it, he left on one side the plain and obvious course, and conceived and carried out a plan which was a surprise to the enemy himself. This could only be the result of the closest calculation.
[10.7] The fact is that he had made minute inquiries, before leaving Rome, both about the treason of the Celtiberians, and the separation of the two Roman armies; and had inferred that his father’s disaster was entirely attributable to these. He had not therefore shared the popular terror of the Carthaginians, nor allowed himself to be overcome by the general panic. And when he subsequently heard that the allies of Rome north of the Ebro were remaining loyal, while the Carthaginian commanders were quarrelling with each other, and maltreating the natives subject to them, he began to feel very cheerful about his expedition, not from a blind confidence in Fortune, but from deliberate calculation. Accordingly, when he arrived in Iberia, he learnt, by questioning everybody and making inquiries about the enemy from every one, that the forces of the Carthaginians were divided into three. Mago, he was informed, was lingering west of the pillars of Hercules among the Conii; Hasdrubal, the son of Gesco, in Lusitania, near the mouth of the Tagus; while the other Hasdrubal was besieging a certain city of the Caspetani; and none of the three were less than ten days’ march from the New Town. Now he calculated that, if he decided to give the enemy battle, it would be risking too much to do so against all three at once, because his predecessors had been beaten, and because the enemy would vastly out-number him; if, on the other hand, he were to march rapidly to engage one of the three, and should then find himself surrounded—which might happen by the one attacked retreating, and the others coming up to his relief,—he dreaded a disaster like that of his uncle Gnaeus and his father Publius.
[10.8] He therefore rejected that idea altogether: but being informed that New Carthage was the most important source of supplies to the enemy and of damage to the Romans in the present war, he had taken the trouble to make minute inquiries about it during the winter from those who were well informed. He learnt that it was nearly the only town in Iberia which possessed a harbour suitable for a fleet and naval force; that it lay very conveniently for the Carthaginians to make the sea passage from Libya; that they in fact had the bulk of their money and war material in it, as well as their hostages from the whole of Iberia; that, most important of all, the number of fighting men garrisoning the citadel only amounted to a thousand,—because no one would ever suppose that, while the Carthaginians commanded nearly the whole of Iberia, any one would conceive the idea of assaulting this town; that the other inhabitants were exceedingly numerous, but all consisted of craftsmen, mechanics, and fisher-folk, as far as possible removed from any knowledge of warfare. All this he regarded as being fatal to the town, in case of the sudden appearance of an enemy. Nor did he moreover fail to acquaint himself with the topography of New Carthage, or the nature of its defences, or the lie of the lagoon: but by means of certain fishermen who had worked there he had ascertained that the lagoon was quite shallow and fordable at most points; and that, generally speaking, the water ebbed every day towards evening sufficiently to secure this. These considerations convinced him that, if he could accomplish his purpose, he would not only damage his opponents, but gain a considerable advantage for himself; and that, if on the other hand he failed in effecting it, he would yet be able to secure the safety of his men owing to his command of the sea, provided he had once made his camp secure,—and this was easy, because of the wide dispersion of the enemy’s forces. He had therefore, during his residence in winter quarters, devoted himself to preparing for this operation to the exclusion of every other: and in spite of the magnitude of the idea which he had conceived, and in spite of his youth, he concealed it from all except Gaius Laelius, until he had himself decided to reveal it.
[10.9] But although historians agree in attributing these calculations to him; yet, when they come to narrate their issue, they somehow or another attribute the success obtained not to the man and his foresight, but to the gods and to Fortune, and that, in spite of all probability, and the evidence of those who lived with him; and in spite of the fact that Publius himself in a letter addressed to Philip has distinctly set forth that it was upon the deliberate calculations, which I have just set forth, that he undertook the Iberian campaign generally, and the assault upon New Carthage in particular.
[10.9] However that may be, at the time specified he gave secret instructions to Gaius Laelius, who was in command of the fleet, and who, as I have said, was the only man in the secret, to sail to this town; while he himself marched his army at a rapid pace in the same direction. His force consisted of twenty-five thousand infantry and two thousand five hundred cavalry; and arriving at New Carthage on the seventh day he pitched his camp on the north of the town;¹⁶ defended its rear by a double trench and rampart stretching from sea to sea,¹⁷ while on the side facing the town he made absolutely no defences, for the nature of the ground made him sufficiently secure.
[10.9] But as I am now about to describe the assault and capture of the town, I think I must explain to my readers the lie of the surrounding country, and the position of the town itself.
[10.10] It stands about half-way down the coast of Iberia in a gulf which faces south-west, running about twenty stades inland, and about ten stades broad at its entrance. The whole gulf is made a harbour by the fact that an island¹⁸ lies at its mouth and thus makes the entrance channels on each side of it exceedingly narrow. It breaks the force of the waves also, and the whole gulf has thus smooth water, except when south-west winds setting down the two channels raise a surf: with all other winds it is perfectly calm, from being so nearly landlocked. In the recess of the gulf a mountain juts out in the form of a chersonese, and it is on this mountain that the city stands, surrounded by the sea on the east and south, and on the west by a lagoon extending so far northward that the remaining space to the sea on the other side, to connect it with the continent, is not more than two stades. The city itself has a deep depression in its centre, presenting on its south side a level approach from the sea; while the rest of it is hemmed in by hills, two of them mountainous and rough, three others much lower, but rocky and difficult of ascent; the largest of which lies on the east of the town running out into the sea, on which stands a temple of Asclepius. Exactly opposite this lies the western mountain in a closely-corresponding position, on which a palace had been erected at great cost, which it is said was built by Hasdrubal when he was aiming at establishing royal power. The remaining three lesser elevations bound it on the north, of which the westernmost is called the hill of Hephaestus, the next to it that of Aletes,—who is believed to have attained divine honours from having been the discoverer of the silver mines,—and the third is called the hill of Cronus. The lagoon has been connected with the adjoining sea artificially for the sake of the maritime folk; and over the channel thus cut between it and the sea a bridge has been built, for beasts of burden and carts to bring in provisions from the country.
[10.11] Such is the nature of this city’s situation. The side of the Roman camp which faced the city therefore was secured, without any artificial means, by the lagoon and the sea. The neck of land lying between these two, and connecting the city with the continent, Scipio did not fence off with a stockade, although it abutted on the middle of his camp,—either for the sake of making an impression upon the enemy, or by way of suiting the arrangement to his own design, —that he might have nothing to hamper the free egress and return of his troops to and from the camp. The circuit of the city wall was not more than twenty stades formerly,— though I am aware that it has been stated at forty stades; but this is false, as I know from personal inspection and not from mere report,—and in our day it has been still farther contracted.
[10.11] The fleet arrived to the hour, and Publius then thought it time to summon a meeting of his men and to encourage them to the undertaking by the use of the same arguments by which he had convinced himself, and which I have just now detailed. He pointed out to them that the plan was practicable; and briefly summing up the blow which their success would be to their enemies, and the advantage it would be to themselves, he ended by promising crowns of gold to those who first mounted the walls, and the usual rewards to those who displayed conspicuous gallantry. And finally he declared that “Poseidon had appeared to him in his sleep, and originally suggested his plan to him; and had promised to give him such signal aid in the actual hour of battle that his assistance should be made manifest to all.” The skilful mixture in this speech of accurate calculation with promises of gold crowns, and a reference to Divine Providence, created a great impression and enthusiasm in the minds of the young soldiers.
[10.12] Next morning he stationed ships supplied with missiles of every sort, all along the seaboard, under the command of Gaius Laelius; and having told off two thousand of his strongest men to accompany the ladder-carriers, he begun the assault about the third hour. The commandant of the town, Mago, divided his garrison of a thousand men into two companies; half he left upon the citadel, and the rest he stationed upon the eastern hill. Of the other inhabitants he accoutred about two thousand of the strongest men with such arms as there were in the city, and stationed them at the gate leading to the isthmus and the enemy’s camp: the rest he ordered to assist to the best of their power at all points in the wall. As soon as the bugles of Publius sounded the moment of the assault, Mago caused those whom he had armed to sally from the gate, feeling confident that he should create a panic among the assailants and entirely baffle their design. These men vigorously attacked those of the Roman army who were drawn up opposite the isthmus, and a sharp engagement took place accompanied by loud cries of encouragement on both sides: the Romans in the camp cheering on their men, and the people in the city theirs. But the contest was an unequal one in the respect of the facility of bringing up reserves. The Carthaginians had all to come out by one gate, and had nearly two stades to march before they got on the ground; whereas the Romans had their supports close at hand and able to come out over a wide area; for Publius had purposely stationed his men close to the camp in order to induce the enemy to come out as far as possible: being quite aware that if he succeeded in destroying these, who were so to speak the sharp edge of the urban population, universal consternation would be the result, and no more of those in the town would have the courage to come out of the gate. The contest however for a certain time was undecided, for it was between picked men on both sides; but finally the Carthaginians were overpowered by the superior weight of their opponents, owing to the constant reinforcements from the camp, and turned to flight. A large number of them fell in the actual engagement, and during the retreat; but the greater number were trampled to death by each other as they crowded through the gate. The city people were thrown into such a panic by these events, that even those who were guarding the walls fled. The Romans very nearly succeeded in forcing their way in through the gates with the fugitives; and of course fixed their scaling-ladders against the wall in perfect security.
[10.13] Meanwhile Publius, though throwing himself heartily into the struggle, yet took all possible precautions to protect his life. He had three men with him carrying large shields, which they held in such a position as to completely protect him from the side of the wall; and accordingly he went along the lines, or mounted on elevated ground, and contributed greatly to the success of the day. For he was enabled to see all that was going on, and at the same time, by being himself in view of all, inspired great zeal in the hearts of the combatants. The result was that nothing was omitted which could contribute to the success of the battle; but any help he saw to be at any moment required was rapidly and thoroughly supplied.
[10.13] But though the leaders of the escalade had begun mounting the walls with great spirit, they found the operation accompanied by some danger: not so much from the number of the defenders, as from the height of the walls. The defenders accordingly plucked up courage considerably when they saw the distress of the assailants: for some of the ladders were breaking under the weight of the numbers which, owing to their length, were on them at the same time; while on others the first to mount turned giddy owing to their great height, and without requiring much resistance from the defenders threw themselves from the ladders: and when beams, or anything of that sort, were hurled upon them from the battlements, they were swept off en masse and fell to the ground. In spite however of these difficulties nothing could check the zeal and fury of the Roman attack; but as the first fell their place was always taken at once by the next in order. And now, as the day was far advanced, and the soldiers were worn out with fatigue, Scipio sounded a recall for the assaulting party.
[10.14] The men in the town were accordingly in high spirits at having, as they thought, repulsed the assault. But Scipio, who was conscious that the time was now approaching for the ebb of the lagoon, had five hundred men stationed ready by its edge with ladders; and meanwhile massed some fresh soldiers upon the gate and isthmus, and, after urging them to undertake the work, furnished them with a larger number of ladders than before: so that the wall was almost covered with men scaling it. When the signal for attack was sounded, and the men placed their ladders against the wall, and began ascending at every point, the excitement and consternation inside the walls was extreme; for when they thought themselves released from the threatened danger, they saw it beginning all over again by another assault. Besides, their missiles were beginning to fall short; and the number of men they had lost greatly disheartened them. Still, though they were in great distress, they continued the defence as well as they could.
[10.14] Just when the struggle at the ladders was at its hottest the ebb of the tide began. The water began gradually to leave the edges of the lagoon, and the current ran with such violence, and in such a mass through its channel into the adjoining sea, that to those who were unprepared for the sight it appeared incredible. Being provided with guides, Scipio at once ordered his men, who had been stationed ready for this service, to step in and to fear nothing. His was a nature especially fitted to inspire courage and sympathy with his own feelings. So now the men at once obeyed him, and when the army saw them racing each other across the marsh, it could not but suppose that the movement was a kind of heaven-sent inspiration. This reminded them of the reference Scipio had made to Poseidon, and the promises contained in his harangue: and their enthusiasm rose to such a height that they locked their shields above their heads, and, charging up to the gate, they began trying to hew their way through the panels of the doors with their axes and hatchets.
[10.14] Meanwhile the party which had crossed the marsh had approached the wall. They found the battlements unguarded: and therefore, not only fixed their ladders against the wall, but actually mounted and took it without striking a blow; for the attention of the garrison was distracted to other points, especially to the isthmus and the gate leading to it, and they never expected that the enemy were likely to attack on the side of the lagoon: besides, and above all, there was such disorderly shouting, and such a scene of confusion within the wall, that they could neither hear nor see to any purpose.
[10.15] As soon as they found themselves in possession of the wall, the Romans began making their way along the top of it, hurling off such of the enemy as they met, the nature of their arms being especially suited for an operation of that sort. But when they arrived at the gate they descended and began cutting through the bolts, while those without began forcing their way in, and those who were mounting the walls in the direction of the isthmus, beginning by this time to get the better of their opponents, were getting a footing on the battlements. Thus the walls were finally in possession of the enemy: and the troops, which entered by the gate, carried the eastern hill and drove off the garrison occupying it.
[10.15] When Scipio thought that a sufficient number of troops had entered the town, he gave leave to the larger number of them to attack those in it, according to the Roman custom, with directions to kill everything they met, and to spare nothing; and not to begin looting until they got the order to do so. The object of this is, I suppose, to strike terror. Accordingly, one may often see in towns captured by the Romans, not only human beings who have been put to the sword, but even dogs cloven down the middle, and the limbs of other animals hewn off. On this occasion the amount of such slaughter was exceedingly great, because of the numbers included in the city.
[10.15] Scipio himself with about a thousand men now pressed on towards the citadel. When he arrived there, Mago at first thought of resistance; but afterwards, when he was satisfied that the city was completely in the power of the enemy, he sent to demand a promise of his life, and then surrendered. This being concluded, the signal was given to stop the slaughter: whereupon the soldiers left off slaying, and turned to plunder. When night fell those of the soldiers to whom this duty had been assigned remained in the camp, while Scipio with his thousand men bivouacked in the citadel; and summoning the rest from the dwelling-houses by means of the Tribunes, he ordered them to collect all their booty into the market-place by maniples, and to take up their quarters for the night by these several heaps. He then summoned the light-armed from the camp, and stationed them upon the eastern hill.
[10.15] Thus did the Romans become masters of Carthage in Iberia.
[10.16] Next morning the baggage of those who had served in the Carthaginian ranks, as well as the property of the city-folk and the craftsmen, having been collected together in the market-place, the Tribunes divided it according to the Roman custom among their several legions. Now the Roman method of procedure in the capture of cities is the following: Sometimes certain soldiers taken from each maniple are told off for this duty, their numbers depending on the size of the city; sometimes maniples are told off in turn for it: but there are never more than half the whole number assigned to the work. The rest remain in their own ranks in reserve, sometimes outside, at others inside the city, for taking such precautions as may be from time to time necessary. Sometimes, though rarely, four legions are massed together; but generally speaking the whole force is divided into two legions of Romans and two of allies. This being settled, all who are told off for plundering carry all they get, each to his own legion; and when this booty has been sold, the Tribunes distribute the proceeds among all equally, including not only those who were thus held in reserve, but even those who were guarding the tents, or were invalided, or had been sent away anywhere on any service. But I have spoken fully before, when discussing the Roman constitution, on the subject of the distribution of booty, showing how no one is excluded from a share in it, in accordance with the oath which all take upon first joining the camp. I may now add that the arrangement whereby the Roman army is thus divided, half being engaged in gathering booty and half remaining drawn up in reserve, precludes all danger of a general catastrophe arising from personal rivalry in greed. For as both parties feel absolute confidence in the fair dealing of each in respect to the booty,—the reserves no less than the plunderers,—no one leaves the ranks, which has been the most frequent cause of disaster in the case of other armies.
[10.17] For, as the majority of mankind encounter miseries and embrace dangers for the sake of gain, it is plain that when such opportunity is presented to them as this, the men in the reserve or in the camp would be with difficulty induced to abstain from taking advantage of it; because the usual idea is that everything belongs to the man who actually takes it: and though a general or king may be careful to order all booty to be brought into the common stock, yet everybody considers that what he can conceal is his own. The result is that, while the ruck of the army cannot be prevented from eagerly devoting themselves to plunder, they often run the risk of a complete overthrow: and it has often in fact happened that after a successful movement, such as the carrying of an entrenched camp or the capture of a city, the victorious army has, from no other cause but this, been not only ejected but even utterly defeated. Therefore there is nothing about which leaders ought to exercise more care or foresight, than that, on such an occasion, all may have an absolutely equal prospect of sharing in the booty.
[10.17] Thus on the present occasion, while the Tribunes were busied in the distribution of the spoil; the Roman commander caused the prisoners, who numbered little short of ten thousand, to be assembled; and having first ordered them to be divided into two groups, one containing the citizens and their wives and children, the other the craftsmen, he exhorted the first of these to be loyal to the Romans, and to remember the favour which they were now receiving, and allowed them all to depart to their own houses. With tears of joy at this unexpected preservation, they bowed in reverence to Scipio and dispersed. He then told the craftsmen that they were for the present public slaves of Rome, but that, if they showed themselves loyal and zealous in their several crafts, he promised them their freedom, as soon as the war with the Carthaginians had been brought to a successful issue. He then bade them go get their names enrolled in the office of the Quaestor, and appointed a Roman overseer for every thirty of them, their whole number being about two thousand. From the remaining captives he selected the strongest, those who were in the prime of youth and physical vigour, and assigned them to serve on board ship: and having thus increased the number of his naval allies by one half, he manned the ships taken from the enemy as well as his own; so that the number of men on board each vessel were now little short of double what it was before. For the captured ships numbered eighteen, his original fleet thirty-five. These men he also promised their freedom, if they showed themselves loyal and zealous, as soon as they had conquered the Carthaginians. By this treatment of the captives he inspired the citizens with warm feelings of loyalty and fidelity, and the handicraftsmen with great readiness to serve, from the hope held out to them of recovering their freedom.
[10.18] He next took Mago and the Carthaginians with him separately, consisting of one member of the Council of ancients and fifteen of the Senate.¹⁹ These he put under the charge of Gaius Laelius, with orders that he should take due care of them. He next summoned the hostages, who numbered more than three hundred. Such of them as were children he called to him one by one, and stroking their heads told them not to be afraid, for in a few days they would see their parents. The others also he exhorted to be of good cheer, and to write word to their relations in their several cities, first, that they were safe and well; and, secondly, that the Romans were minded to restore them all unharmed to their homes, if only their relations adopted the Roman alliance. With these words, having already selected from the spoils such articles as were fitting for his purpose, he presented each with what was suitable to their sex and age: the girls with ear-rings and bracelets, the young men with daggers and swords. Among the captive women was the wife of Mandonius, brother of Andobalus king of the Ilergētes. This woman fell at his feet and besought him with tears to protect their honour better than the Carthaginians had done. Touched by her distress Scipio asked her in what respect she and the other women were left unprovided. She was a lady of advanced years and of a certain majestic dignity of appearance: and upon her meeting his question by perfect silence, he summoned the men who had been appointed to take charge of the women; and when they reported that they had supplied them with all necessaries in abundance, and when the woman again clasped his knees and repeated the same request, Scipio felt still more embarrassed; and, conceiving the idea that their guardians had neglected them, and were now making a false report, he bade the women fear nothing, for that he would appoint different men to see to their interests, and secure that they were not left in want of anything. Then after a brief hesitation the woman said, “You mistake my meaning, General, if you think that we are asking you for food.” Scipio then at length began to understand what she wished to convey; and seeing under his eyes the youthful beauty of the daughters of Andobalus, and of many of the other nobles, he could not refrain from tears, while the aged lady indicated in a few words the danger in which they were. He showed at once that he understood her words: and taking her by the hand, he bade her and the others also be of good cheer, for that he would watch over them as he would over his own sisters and daughters, and would accordingly put men in charge of them on whom he could rely.
[10.19] His next business was to pay over to the Quaestors such public money of the Carthaginians as had been captured. It amounted to more than six hundred talents, so that when this was added to the four hundred which he had brought with him from Rome, he found himself in possession of more than one thousand talents.
[10.19] It was on this occasion that some young Romans fell in with a girl surpassing all the other women in bloom and beauty; and seeing that Scipio was fond of the society of women, they brought her to him, and, placing her before him, said that they desired to present the damsel to him. He was struck with admiration for her beauty, and replied that, if he had been in a private position, he could have received no present that would have given him greater pleasure; but as general it was the last in the world which he could receive. He meant to convey, I presume, by this ambiguous answer that, in hours of rest and idleness, such things are the most delightful enjoyments and pastimes for young men; whereas in times of activity they are hindrances physically and mentally. However that may be, he thanked the young men; but called the girl’s father, and handing her over at once to him, told him to bestow her in marriage on whichever of the citizens he chose. By this display of continence and self-control he gained the warm respect of his men.
[10.19] Having made these arrangements, and handed over the rest of the captives to the Tribunes, he despatched Gaius Laelius on board a quinquereme to Rome, with the Carthaginian prisoners and the noblest of the others, to announce at home what had taken place. For as the prevailing feeling at Rome was one of despair of success in Iberia, he felt certain that on this news their spirits would revive, and that they would make much more strenuous efforts to support him.
[10.20] Scipio himself stayed a certain time in New Carthage and assiduously practised his fleet; and drew up the following scheme for his military Tribunes for training their men. The first day he ordered the men to go at the double for thirty stades in their full arms; and on the second all of them to rub down, clean, and thoroughly examine their whole equipments; on the third to rest and do nothing; on the fourth to have a sham fight, some with wooden swords covered with leather and with a button at the end, others with javelins also buttoned at the end; on the fifth the same march at the double as on the first. That there might be no lack of weapons for the practises, or for the real fighting, he took the greatest pains with the handicraftsmen. He had, as I have already stated, appointed overseers over them in regular divisions to secure that this was done; but he also personally inspected them every day, and saw that they were severally supplied with what was necessary. Thus while the legions were practising and training in the vicinity of the town, and the fleet manœuvring and rowing in the sea, and the city people sharpening weapons or forging arms or working in wood, every one in short busily employed in making armour, the whole place must have presented the appearance of what Xenophon called “a workshop of war.” When he thought all these works were sufficiently advanced for the requirements of the service, he secured the town by posting garrisons and repairing the walls, and got both his army and navy on the move, directing his advance upon Tarraco, and taking the hostages with him. . . .

### Philopoemen of Megalopolis

[10.21] Euryleon, the Strategus of the Achaeans, was a man of timid character, and quite unsuited for service in the field. But as my history has now arrived at a point at which the achievements of Philopoemen begin, I think it only proper that, as I have attempted to describe the habits and characters of the other men of eminence with whom we have had to deal, I should do the same for him. It is strangely inconsistent in historians to record in elaborate detail the founding of cities, stating when and how and by whom they were established, and even the circumstances and difficulties which accompanied the transaction, and yet to pass over in complete silence the characteristics and aims of the men by whom the whole thing was done, though these in fact are the points of the greatest value. For as one feels more roused to emulation and imitation by men that have life, than by buildings that have none, it is natural that the history of the former should have a greater educational value. If I had not therefore already composed a separate account of him, clearly setting forth who he was, his origin, and his policy as a young man, it would have been necessary to have given an account now of each of these particulars. But since I have done this in a work in three books, unconnected with my present history, detailing the circumstances of his childhood and his most famous achievements, it is clear that in my present narrative my proper course will be to remove anything like details from my account of his youthful characteristics and aims; while I am careful to add details to the story of the achievements of his manhood, which in that treatise were only stated summarily. I shall thus preserve the proper features of both works. The former being in the nature of a panegyric demanded an account of his actions, put briefly and in a style deliberately intended to enhance their merits; my present work, which is history, and therefore absolutely uncommitted to praise or blame, requires only a true statement, which puts the facts clearly, and traces the policy which dictated the several actions.
[10.22] Philopoemen, then, to begin with, was of good birth, descended from one of the noblest families in Arcadia. He was also educated under that most distinguished Mantinean, Cleander, who had been his father’s friend before, and happened at that time to be in exile. When he came to man’s estate he attached himself to Ecdemus and Demophanes, who were by birth natives of Megalopolis, but who having been exiled by the tyrant, and having associated with the philosopher Arcesilaus during their exile, not only set their own country free by entering into an intrigue against Aristodemus the tyrant, but also helped in conjunction with Aratus to put down Nicocles, the tyrant of Sicyon. On another occasion also, on the invitation of the people of Cyrene, they stood forward as their champions and preserved their freedom for them. Such were the men with whom he passed his early life; and he at once began to show a superiority to his contemporaries, by his power of enduring hardships in hunting, and by his acts of daring in war. He was moreover careful in his manner of life, and moderate in the outward show which he maintained; for he had imbibed from these men the conviction, that it was impossible for a man to take the lead in public business with honour who neglected his own private affairs; nor again to abstain from embezzling public money if he lived beyond his private income.
[10.22] Being then appointed Hipparch by the Achaean league at this time, and finding the squadrons in a state of utter demoralisation, and the men thoroughly dispirited, he not only restored them to a better state than they were, but in a short time made them even superior to the enemy’s cavalry, by bringing them all to adopt habits of real training and genuine emulation. The fact is that most of those who hold this office of Hipparch, either, from being without any genius themselves for cavalry tactics, do not venture to enforce necessary orders upon others; or, because they are aiming at being elected Strategus, try all through their year of office to attach the young men to themselves and to secure their favour in the coming election: and accordingly never administer necessary reprimands, which are the salvation of the public interests, but hush up all transgressions, and, for the sake of gaining an insignificant popularity, do great damage to those who trust them. Sometimes again, commanders, though neither feeble nor corrupt, do more damage to the soldiers by intemperate zeal than the negligent ones, and this is still oftener the case with regard to the cavalry. . . .
[10.23] Now the movements which he undertook to teach the horsemen as being universally applicable to cavalry warfare were these.²⁰ In the first place each separate horse was to be practised in wheeling first to the left and then to the right, and also to face right-about; and in the next place they were to be taught to wheel in squadrons, face-about, and by a treble movement to face-about right-turn. Next they were to learn to throw out flying columns of single or double companies at full speed from both wings or from the centre; and then to pull up and fall in again into troops, or squadrons, or regiments: next to deploy into line on both wings, either by filling up the intervals in the line or by a lateral movement on the rear. Simply to form an oblique line, he said, required no practice, for it was exactly the same order as that taken up on a march. After this they were to practice charging the enemy and retreating by every kind of movement, until they were able to advance at an alarming pace; provided only that they kept together, both line and column, and preserved the proper intervals between the squadrons: for nothing is more dangerous and unserviceable than cavalry that have broken up their squadrons, and attempt to engage in this state.
[10.23] After giving these instructions both to the people and their magistrates, he went on a round of inspection through the towns, and inquired, first, whether the men obeyed the words of command; and, secondly, whether the officers in the several towns knew how to give them clearly and properly: for he held that the first thing requisite was technical knowledge on the part of the commanders of each company.
[10.24] When he had thus made the proper preliminary preparations, he mustered the cavalry from the various cities into one place, and set about perfecting their evolutions under his own command, and personally directed the whole drill. He did not ride in front of the army, as generals nowadays do, from the notion that this is the proper position for a commander. For what can be less scientific or more dangerous than for a commander to be seen by all his men, and yet not to see one of them? In such manœuvres a Hipparch should not make a display not of mere military dignity, but of the skill and ability of an officer, appearing at one time in the front, at another on the rear, and at another in the centre. This is what he did, riding along the lines, and personally seeing to all the men, giving them directions when they were at a loss what to do, and correcting at once every mistake that was being made. Such mistakes, however, were trifling and rare, owing to the previous care bestowed on every individual and company. Demetrius of Phalerum has, as far as words go, given expression to the same idea: “As in the case of building, if you lay each single brick rightly, and if proper care is taken in placing each successive course, all will be well; so in an army, accuracy in the arrangement of each soldier and each company makes the whole strong. . . .”
[10.25] A fragment of a speech of some Macedonian orator as to the Aetolians making an alliance with Rome.
[10.25] “The case is just like that of the disposition of the various kinds of troops on the field of battle. The light-armed and most active men bear the brunt of the danger, are the first to be engaged and the first to perish, while the phalanx and the heavy-armed generally carry off the glory. So in this case, the Aetolians, and such of the Peloponnesians as are in alliance with them, are put in the post of danger; while the Romans, like the phalanx, remain in reserve. And if the former meet with disaster and perish, the Romans will retire unharmed from the struggle; while if they are victorious, which Heaven forbid! the Romans will get not only them but the rest of the Greeks also into their power. . . .”²¹
[10.26] After finishing the celebration of the Nemean games, King Philip of Macedon returned to Argos and laid aside his crown and purple robe, with the view of making a display of democratic equality and good nature. But the more democratic the dress which he wore, the more absolute and royal were the privileges which he claimed. He was not now content with seducing unmarried women, or even with intriguing with married women, but assumed the right of sending authoritatively for any woman whose appearance struck him; and offered violence to those who did not at once obey, by leading a band of revellers to their houses; and, summoning their sons or their husbands, he trumped up false pretexts for menacing them. In fact his conduct was exceedingly outrageous and lawless. But though this abuse of his privileges as a guest was exceedingly annoying to many of the Achaeans, and especially to the orderly part of them, the wars that threatened them on every side compelled them to show a patience under it uncongenial to their character. . . .
[10.26] None of his predecessors had better qualifications for sovereignty, or more important defects, than this same Philip. And it appears to me that the good qualities were innate, while the defects grew upon him as he advanced in years, as happens to some horses as they grow old. Such remarks I do not, following some other historians, confine to prefaces; but when the course of my narrative suggests it, I state my opinion of kings and eminent men, thinking that most convenient for writer and reader alike. . . .
[10.26] War between Antiochus the Great (III.) and Arsaces III., King of the Parthians. B.C. 212-205. See above, 8, 25.
[10.27] In regard to extent of territory Media is the most considerable of the kingdoms in Asia, as also in respect of the number and excellent qualities of its men, and not less so of its horses. For, in fact, it supplies nearly all Asia with these animals, the royal studs being entrusted to the Medes because of the rich pastures in their country.²² To protect it from the neighbouring barbarians a ring of Greek cities was built round it by the orders of Alexander. The chief exception to this is Ecbatana, which stands on the north of Media, in the district of Asia bordering on the Maeotis and Euxine. It was originally the royal city of the Medes, and vastly superior to the other cities in wealth and the splendour of its buildings. It is situated on the skirts of Mount Orontes, and is without walls, though containing an artificially formed citadel fortified to an astonishing strength. Beneath this stands the palace, which it is in some degree difficult to describe in detail, or to pass over in complete silence. To those authors whose aim is to produce astonishment, and who are accustomed to deal in exaggeration and picturesque writing, this city offers the best possible subject; but to those who, like myself, are cautious when approaching descriptions which go beyond ordinary notions, it presents much difficulty and embarrassment. However, as regards size, the palace covers ground the circuit of which is nearly seven stades; and by the costliness of the structure in its several parts it testifies to the wealth of its original builders: for all its woodwork being cedar or cypress not a single plank was left uncovered; beams and fretwork in the ceilings, and columns in the arcades and peristyle, were overlaid with plates of silver or gold, while all the tiles were of silver. Most of these had been stripped off during the invasion of Alexander and the Macedonians, and the rest in the reigns of Antigonus and Seleucus Nicanor. However, even at the time of Antiochus’s arrival, the temple of Aena²³ still had its columns covered with gold, and a considerable number of silver tiles had been piled up in it, and some few gold bricks and a good many silver ones were still remaining. It was from these that the coinage bearing the king’s impress was collected and struck, amounting to little less than four thousand talents. . . .
[10.28] Arsaces expected that Antiochus would come as far as this district (of Media), but that he would not venture to proceed across the adjoining desert with so large a force, if for no other reason, yet from the scarcity of water. For in this tract of country there is no water appearing on the surface, though there are many subterranean channels which have well-shafts sunk to them, at spots in the desert unknown to persons unacquainted with the district. A true account of these channels has been preserved among the natives to the effect that, during the Persian ascendency, they granted the enjoyment of the profits of the land to the inhabitants of some of the waterless districts for five generations, on condition of their bringing fresh water in; and that, there being many large streams flowing down Mount Taurus, these people at infinite toil and expense constructed these underground channels through a long tract of country, in such a way, that the very people who now use the water are ignorant of the sources from which the channels are originally supplied.
[10.28] When, however, Arsaces saw that Antiochus was determined to attempt to cross the desert, he endeavoured at once to choke up and spoil the wells. But King Antiochus, upon this being reported to him, despatched Nicomedes with a thousand horse; who found that Arsaces had retired with his main army, but came upon some of his cavalry in the act of choking up the shafts which went down into the underground channels. They promptly attacked these men, and, having routed and forced them to fly, returned back again to Antiochus. The king, having thus accomplished the journey across the desert, arrived before the city Hecatompylos, which is situated in the centre of Parthia, and derives its name from the fact that the roads which lead to all the surrounding districts converge there.
[10.29] Having rested his army at this place, and having convinced himself that, had Arsaces been able to give him battle, he would not have abandoned his own country, nor have sought a ground more favourable to his own army for fighting him than the district round Hecatompylos; he concluded that, since he had done so, it stood to reason that he had entirely changed his mind. He therefore decided to advance into Hyrcania. But having arrived at Tagae, he learnt from the natives that the country he had to cross, until he reached the ridges of Mount Labus sloping down into Hyrcania, was exceedingly rough and difficult, and that large numbers of barbarians were stationed at the narrowest points. He therefore resolved to divide his light-armed troops into companies, and distribute their officers among them, giving them directions as to the route they were severally to take. He did the same with the pioneers, whose business it was to make the positions occupied by the light-armed possible of approach for the phalanx and beasts of burden. Having made these arrangements, he entrusted the first division to Diogenes, strengthening him with bowmen and slingers and some mountaineers skilled in throwing javelines and stones, and who, without keeping any regular order, were always ready to skirmish at a moment’s notice, and in any direction, and rendered the most effective assistance at the narrow passes. Next to these he ordered a company of about two thousand Cretans armed with shields to advance, under the command of Polyxenidas of Rhodes. The rear was to be brought up by companies armed with breastplate and shield, and commanded by Nicomedes of Cos, and Nicolaus the Aetolian.
[10.30] But as they advanced, the ruggedness of the ground and the narrowness of the passes were found to far exceed the king’s expectations. The length of the ascent was altogether about three hundred stades; and a great part had to be made up the bed of a winter torrent of great depth, into which numerous rocks and trees had been hurled by natural causes from the overhanging precipices, and made a passage up it difficult, to say nothing of the obstacles which the barbarians had helped to construct expressly to impede them. These latter had felled a large number of trees and piled up heaps of huge rocks; and had besides occupied all along the gully the high points, which were at once convenient for attack and capable of covering themselves; so that, if it had not been for one glaring error on their part, Antiochus would have found the attempt beyond his powers, and would have desisted from it. The error was this. They assumed that the whole army would be obliged to march the entire way up the gully, and they accordingly occupied the points of vantage. But they did not perceive this fact, that, though the phalanx and the baggage could not possibly go by any other route than the one they supposed, there was yet nothing to make it impossible for the light-armed and active troops to accomplish the ascent of the bare rocks. Consequently, as soon as Diogenes had come upon the first outpost of the enemy, he and his men began climbing out of the gully, and the affair at once took a different aspect. For no sooner had they come to close quarters, than, acting on the suggestion of the moment, Diogenes avoided the engagement by ascending the mountains that flanked the enemy’s position, and so got above him; and by pouring down volleys of darts and stones he seriously harassed the barbarians. Their most deadly weapons however proved to be the slings, which could carry a great distance; and when by these means they had dislodged the first outpost and occupied their position, an opportunity was secured for the pioneers to clear the way and level it, without being exposed to danger. Owing to the number of hands the work went on rapidly; and meanwhile the slingers, bowmen, and javelin-men advanced in skirmishing order along the higher ground, every now and then reforming and seizing on strong points of vantage; while the men with shields formed a reserve, marching in order and at a regular pace along the side of the gully itself. The barbarians thereupon abandoned their positions, and, ascending the mountain, mustered in full force on the summit.
[10.31] Thus Antiochus effected this ascent without loss, but slowly and painfully, for it was not until the eighth day that his army made the summit of Labus. The barbarians being mustered there, and resolved to dispute his passage, a severe engagement took place, in which the barbarians were eventually dislodged, and by the following manœuvre. As long as they were engaged face to face with the phalanx, they kept well together and fought desperately; but before daybreak the light-armed troops had made a wide circuit, and seized some high ground on the rear of the enemy, and as soon as the barbarians perceived this they fled in a panic. King Antiochus exerted himself actively to prevent a pursuit, and caused a recall to be sounded, because he wished his men to make the descent into Hyrcania, without scattering, and in close order. He accomplished his object: reached Tambrax, an unwalled city of great size and containing a royal palace, and there encamped. Most of the natives fled from the battle-field, and its immediate neighbourhood, into a city called Sirynx, which was not far from Tambrax, and from its secure and convenient situation was considered as the capital of Hyrcania. Antiochus therefore determined to carry this town by assault; and having accordingly advanced thither, and pitched his camp under its walls, he commenced the assault. The operation consisted chiefly of mining under pent-houses. For the city was defended by three trenches, thirty cubits broad and fifteen deep, with a double vallum on the edge of each; and behind these there was a strong wall. Frequent struggles took place at the works, in which neither side were strong enough to carry off their killed and wounded: for these hand-to-hand battles took place, not above ground only, but underground also in the mines. However, owing to the numbers employed and the activity of the king, it was not long before the trenches were choked up and the walls were undermined and fell. Upon this the barbarians, giving up all as lost, put to death such Greeks as were in the town; and having plundered all that was most worth taking, made off under cover of night. When the king saw this, he despatched Hyperbasus with the mercenaries; upon whose approach the barbarians threw down their booty and fled back again into the city; and when they found the peltasts pouring in energetically through the breach in the walls they gave up in despair and surrendered.
[10.32] The Consuls, wishing to reconnoitre the slope of the hill towards the enemy’s camp, ordered their main force to remain in position; while they themselves with two troops of cavalry, their lictors, and about thirty velites advanced to make the reconnaisance. Now some Numidians, who were accustomed to lie in ambush for those who came on skirmishes, or any other services from the Roman camp, happened, as it chanced, to have ensconced themselves at the foot of the hill. Being informed by their look-out man that a body of men was coming over the brow of the hill above them, they rose from their place of concealment, ascended the hill by a side road, and got between the Consuls and their camp. At the very first charge they killed Claudius and some others, and having wounded the rest, forced them to fly in different directions down the sides of the hill. Though the men in camp saw what was happening they were unable to come to the relief of their endangered comrades; for while they were still shouting out to get ready, and before they had recovered from the first shock of their surprise, while some were putting the bridles on their horses and others donning their armour, the affair was all over. The son of Claudius, though wounded, narrowly escaped with his life.
[10.32] Thus fell Marcus Marcellus from an act of incautiousness unworthy of a general. I am continually compelled in the course of my history to draw the attention of my readers to occurrences of this sort; for I perceive that it is this, more than anything else connected with the science of tactics, that ruins commanders. And yet the blunder is a very obvious one. For what is the use of a commander or general, who has not learnt that the leader ought to keep as far as possible aloof from those minor operations, in which the whole fortune of the campaign is not involved? Or of one who does not know that, even if circumstances should at times force them to engage in such subordinate movements, the commanders-in-chief should not expose themselves to danger until a large number of their company have fallen? For, as the proverb has it, the experiment should be made “on the worthless Carian”²⁴ not on the general. For to say “I shouldn’t have thought it,”—“Who would have expected it?” seems to me the clearest proof of strategical incompetence and dulness.
[10.33] And so, though Hannibal’s claims to be reckoned a great general are manifold, there is none more conspicuous than this, that though engaged for a great length of time in an enemy’s country, and though he experienced a great variety of fortune, he again and again inflicted a disaster on his opponents in minor encounters, but never suffered one himself, in spite of the number and severity of the contests which he conducted: and the reason, we may suppose was, that he took great care of his personal safety. And very properly so: for if the leader escapes uninjured and safe, though a decisive defeat may have been sustained, fortune offers many opportunities for retrieving disasters; but if he has fallen, the pilot as it were of the ship, even should fortune give the victory to the army, no real advantage is gained; because all the hopes of the soldiers depend upon their leaders. So much for those who fall into such errors from foolish vanity, childish parade, ignorance, or contempt. For it is ever one or the other of these that is at the bottom of such disasters. . . . They suddenly let down the portcullis, which they had raised somewhat by pulleys, and thus closed up the gateway. Then they took the men and crucified them before the walls. . . .
[10.34] In Iberia Publius Scipio took up his winter quarters at Tarraco, as I have already stated; and secured the fidelity and affection of the Iberians, to begin with, by the restoration of the hostages to their respective families. He found a voluntary supporter of his measures in the person of Edeco, the prince of the Edetani; who no sooner heard that New Carthage had been taken, and that Scipio had got his wife and children into his hands, than, concluding that the Iberians would change sides, he resolved to take the lead in the movement: conceiving that, by acting thus, he would best be able to get back his wife and children, and at the same time have the credit of joining the Romans by deliberate choice, and not under compulsion. And so it turned out. For as soon as the armies were dismissed to their winter quarters, he came to Tarraco, accompanied by his kinsfolk and friends; and there being admitted to an interview with Scipio, he said that “he thanked the gods heartily that he was the first of the native princes to come to him; for whereas the others were still sending ambassadors to the Carthaginians and looking to them for support,—even while stretching out their hands to the Romans,—he was come there to offer not only himself, but his friends and kinsfolk also, to the protection of Rome. If therefore he should have the honour to be regarded by him as a friend and ally, he would be able to render him important service both in the present and the future. For as soon as the Iberians saw that he had been admitted to Scipio’s friendship, and had obtained what he asked, they would all come in with a similar object, hoping to have their relatives restored, and to enjoy the alliance of Rome. Their affection being secured for the future by receiving such a mark of honour and benevolence, he would have in them sincere and ready coadjutors in all his future undertakings. He therefore asked to have his wife and children restored to him, and to be allowed to return home an acknowledged friend of Rome; in order that he might have a reasonable pretext for showing, to the best of his power, his own and his friends’ affection for Scipio himself and for the Roman cause.”
[10.35] When Edeco had finished his speech, Scipio, who had been ready to gratify him from the first, and took the same view as to the policy of the proceeding, delivered him his wife and children, and granted the friendship which he asked. More than this, his subtle intellect made an extraordinary impression on the Iberian in the course of the interview; and having held out splendid hopes to all his companions for the future, he allowed him to return to his own country. This affair having rapidly got wind, all the tribes living north of the Ebro, such as had not done so before, joined the Romans with one consent.
[10.35] Thus so far everything was going well with Scipio. After the departure of these people, he broke up his naval force, seeing that there was nothing to resist him at sea; and selecting the best of the crews, he distributed them among the maniples, and thus augmented his land forces.
[10.35] But Andobales and Mandonius, the most powerful princes of the day in Iberia, and believed to be the most sincerely devoted to the Carthaginians, had long been secretly discontented and on the look-out for an opportunity: ever since Hasdrubal, under a pretence of having a doubt of their loyalty, had demanded a large sum of money, and their wives and daughters as hostages, as I have already narrated.²⁵ And thinking that a convenient opportunity had now come, they got together their own forces, and, quitting the Carthaginian camp under cover of night, occupied a position sufficiently strong to secure their safety. Upon this, most of the other Iberians also abandoned Hasdrubal: having long been annoyed at the overbearing conduct of the Carthaginians, and now seizing the first opportunity to manifest their feelings.
[10.36] This has often happened to people before. For though, as I have many times remarked, success in a campaign and victory over one’s enemies are great things, it requires much greater skill and caution to use such successes well. Accordingly, you will find that those who have gained victories are many times more numerous than those who have made good use of them. The Carthaginians at this crisis are an instance in point. After conquering the Roman armies, and slaying both the generals, Publius and Gnaeus Scipio, imagining that Iberia was their own without dispute, they began treating the natives tyrannically; and accordingly found enemies in their subjects instead of allies and friends. And they were quite rightly served, for imagining that the conduct necessary for keeping power was something different from that necessary for obtaining it; and for failing to understand that they keep empire best, who best maintain the same principles in virtue of which they gained it. And yet it is obvious enough, and has been again and again demonstrated, that men gain power by beneficent actions, and by holding out hopes of advantage to those with whom they are dealing; but that, as soon as they have got what they wanted, and begin to act wickedly and rule despotically, it is but natural that, as their rulers have changed, the feelings of the subjects should change too. So it was with the Carthaginians.
[10.37] Surrounded by such difficulties Hasdrubal was agitated by many conflicting emotions and anxieties. He was vexed by the desertion of Andobales; vexed by the opposition and feud between himself and the other commanders; and greatly alarmed as to the arrival of Scipio, expecting that he would immediately bring his forces to attack him. Perceiving therefore that he was being abandoned by the Iberians, and that they were joining the Romans with one accord, he decided upon the following plan of action. He resolved that he must collect the best force he could, and give the enemy battle: if fortune declared in his favour he could then consider his next step in safety, but if the battle turned out unfavourably for him, he would retreat with those that survived into Gaul; and collecting from that country as many of the natives as he could, would go to Italy, and take his share in the same fortune as his brother Hannibal.
[10.37] While Hasdrubal was arriving at this resolution, Publius Scipio was rejoined by Gaius Laelius; and, being informed by him of the orders of the Senate, he collected his forces from their winter quarters and began his advance: the Iberians joining him on the march with great promptness and hearty enthusiasm. Andobales had long been in communication with Scipio: and, on the latter approaching the district in which he was entrenched, he left his camp with his friends and came to Scipio. In this interview he entered upon a defence of himself in regard to his former friendship with the Carthaginians, and spoke of the services he had done them, and the fidelity which he had shown to them. He then went on to narrate the injustice and tyranny which he had experienced at their hands; and demanded that Scipio himself should be the judge of his pleas. If he were shown to be making ungrounded complaints against the Carthaginians, he might justly conclude him incapable of keeping faith with the Romans either: but if, on a review of these numerous acts of injustice he were proved to have had no other course than to desert the Carthaginians, Scipio might confidently expect that, if he now elected to join the Romans, he would be firm in his loyalty to them.
[10.38] Andobales added many more arguments before finishing his speech; and when he had done, Scipio answered by saying that “he quite believed what he had said; and that he had the strongest reason for knowing about the insolent conduct of the Carthaginians, both from their treatment of the other Iberians, and conspicuously from their licentious behaviour to their wives and daughters, whom he had found occupying the position, not of hostages, but of captives and slaves; and to whom he had preserved such inviolable honour as could scarcely have been equalled by their very fathers themselves.” And upon Andobales and his companions acknowledging that they were quite aware of this, and falling at his feet and calling him king, all present expressed approval. Whereupon Scipio with emotion bade them “fear nothing, for they would experience nothing but kindness at the hands of the Romans.” He at once handed over his daughters to Andobales; and next day made the treaty with him, the chief provision of which was that he should follow the Roman commanders and obey their commands. This being settled, he returned to his camp; brought over his army to Scipio; and, having joined camps with the Romans, advanced with them against Hasdrubal.
[10.38] Now the Carthaginian general was encamped at Baecula, in the district of Castulo, not far from the silver mines. But when he learnt the approach of the Romans, he shifted his quarters; and his rear being secured by a river, and having a stretch of table-land in front of his entrenchment of sufficient extent for his troops to manœuvre, and bounded by a steep descent sufficiently deep for security, he stayed quietly in position: always taking care to post pickets on the brow of the descent. As soon as he came within distance, Scipio was eager to give him battle, but was baffled by the strength of the enemy’s position. After waiting two days, however, he became anxious, lest by the arrival of Mago and Hasdrubal, son of Gesco, he should find himself surrounded by hostile forces: he therefore determined to venture on an attack and make trial of the enemy.
[10.39] His whole army having been got ready for battle, he confined the main body within his camp, but sent out the velites and some picked men of the infantry with orders to assault the brow of the hill and attack the enemy’s pickets. His orders were carried out with great spirit. At first the Carthaginian commander watched what was happening without stirring: but when he saw that, owing to the fury of the Roman attack, his men were being hard pressed, he led out his army and drew them up along the brow of the hill, trusting to the strength of the position. Meanwhile Scipio despatched all his light-armed troops with orders to support the advanced guard: and the rest of his army being ready for action, he took half of them under his own command, and going round the brow of the hill to the enemy’s left, began assaulting the Carthaginians; while he entrusted the other half to Laelius, with orders to make a similar attack on the right of the enemy. While this was going on, Hasdrubal was still engaged in getting his troops out of camp: for hitherto he had been waiting, because he trusted in the strength of the position, and felt confident that the enemy would never venture to attempt it. The attack, therefore, took him by surprise, before he was able to get his men on to the ground. As the Romans were now assaulting the two wings of the position which the enemy had not yet occupied, they not only mounted the brow of the hill in safety, but actually advanced to the attack while their opponents were still in all the confusion and bustle of falling in. Accordingly they killed some of them on their exposed flank; while others, who were actually in the act of falling in, they forced to turn and flee. Seeing his army giving way and retreating, Hasdrubal reverted to his preconceived plan; and determining not to stake his all upon this one desperate hazard, he secured his money and his elephants, collected as many of his flying soldiers as he could, and commenced a retreat towards the Tagus, with a view of reaching the passes of the Pyrenees and the Gauls in that neighbourhood.
[10.39] Scipio did not think it advisable to pursue Hasdrubal at once, for fear of being attacked by the other Carthaginian generals; but he gave up the enemy’s camp to his men to pillage.
[10.40] Next morning he collected the prisoners, amounting to ten thousand foot and more than two thousand horse, and busied himself in making arrangements about them. All the Iberians of that district, who were in alliance at that time with the Carthaginians, came in and submitted to the Roman obedience, and in addressing Scipio called him “king.” The first to do this and to bow the knee before him had been Edeco, and the next Andobales. On these occasions Scipio had passed the word over without remark; but after the battle, when all alike addressed him by that title, his attention was drawn to it; and he therefore summoned the Iberians to a meeting, and told them that “he quite wished to be called a man of royal liberality by them all, and to be so in the truest sense, but that he had no wish to be a ‘king,’ nor to be called one by any one; they should address him as general.”
[10.40] Even at this early period of his career, an observer might have remarked the loftiness of Scipio’s character. He was still quite young. His good fortune had been so persistent, that all who came under his rule were led naturally to think and speak of him as a king. Yet he did not lose his self-control; but deprecated this popular impulse and this show of dignity. But this same loftiness of character was still more admirable in the closing scenes of his life, when, in addition to his achievements in Iberia, he crushed the Carthaginians; reduced the largest and fairest districts of Libya, from the Altars of Philaenus to the Pillars of Hercules, under the power of his country; conquered Asia and the kings of Syria; made the best and largest part of the world subject to Rome; and in doing so had numerous opportunities of acquiring regal sway, in whatever parts of the world suited his purpose or wish. For such achievements were enough to have kindled pride, not merely in any human breast, but even, if I may say so without irreverence, in that of a god. But Scipio’s greatness of soul was so superior to the common standard of mankind, that he again and again rejected what Fortune had put within his grasp, that prize beyond which men’s boldest prayers do not go—the power of a king: and he steadily preferred his country and his duty to that royalty, which men gaze at with such admiration and envy.
[10.40] Scipio next proceeded to select from the captives the native Iberians, and all these he dismissed to their homes without ransom; and bidding Andobales select three hundred of the horses, he distributed the remainder among those who had none. For the rest, he at once occupied the entrenchment of the Carthaginians, owing to its excellent situation; and there he remained himself, waiting to see the movements of the other Carthaginian generals; while he detached a body of men to the passes of the Pyrenees to keep a look-out for Hasdrubal. After this, as it was getting late in the season, he retired with his army to Tarraco being bent on wintering there. . . .

### Affairs in Greece: Philip V. Called In Against the Aetolians

[10.41] The Aetolians had recently become greatly encouraged by the arrival of the Romans and King Attalus: and accordingly began menacing every one, and threatening all with an attack by land, while Attalus and Publius Sulpicius did the same by sea. Wherefore Achaean legates arrived at the court of King Philip entreating his help: for it was not the Aetolians alone of whom they were standing in dread, but Machanidas also, as he was encamped with his army on the frontier of Argos. The Boeotians also, in fear of the enemy’s fleet, were demanding a leader and help from the king. Most urgent of all, however, were the Euboeans in their entreaties to him to take some precaution against the enemy. A similar appeal was being made by the Acarnanians; and there was an embassy even from the Epirotes. News had arrived that both Scerdilaidas and Pleuratus were leading out their armies: and, over and above this, that the Thracian tribes on the frontier of Macedonia, especially the Maedi, were planning to invade Macedonia, if the king were induced to stir from his realm however short a distance. Moreover the Aetolians were already securing the pass of Thermopylae with trenches and stockades and a formidable garrison, satisfied that they would thus shut out Philip, and entirely prevent him from coming to the assistance of his allies south of the pass. It appears to me that a crisis of this sort is well worth the observation and attention of my readers; for it affords a trial and test of the vigour of the leader affected. As in the hunting-field the wild animals never show their full courage and strength until surrounded and brought to bay,—so it is with leaders. And no more conspicuous instance could be found than this of Philip. He dismissed the various embassies, promising each that he would do his best: and then devoted his attention to the war which surrounded him on all sides, watching to see in what direction, and against which enemy, he had best direct his first attack.
[10.42] Just then intelligence reached him that Attalus had crossed the sea and, dropping anchor at Peparethos, had occupied the island. He therefore despatched a body of men to the islanders to garrison their city; and at the same time despatched Polyphontes with an adequate force into Phocis and Boeotia; and Menippus, with a thousand peltasts and five hundred Agrianes to Chalcis and the rest of Euboea; while he himself advanced to Scotusa, and sent word at the same time to the Macedonians to meet him at that town. But when he learnt that Attalus had sailed into the port of Nicaea, and that the leaders of the Aetolians were collecting at Heraclea, with the purpose of holding a conference together on the immediate steps to be taken, he started with his army from Scotusa, eager to hurry thither and break up their meeting. He arrived too late to interrupt the conference: but he destroyed or carried off the corn belonging to the people along the Aenianian gulf, and then returned. After this he left his army in Scotusa once more; and, with the light-armed troops and the royal guard, went to Demetrias, and there remained, waiting to see what the enemy would attempt. To secure that he should be kept perfectly acquainted with all their movements, he sent messengers to the Peparethii, and to his troops in Phocis and Euboea, and ordered them to telegraph to him everything which happened, by means of fire signals directed to Mount Tisaeum, which is a mountain of Thessaly conveniently situated for commanding a view of those places.
[10.43] The method of signalling by fire, which is of the highest utility in the operations of war, has never before been clearly expounded; and I think I shall be doing a service if I do not pass it over, but give an account of it adequate to its importance. Now that opportuneness is of the utmost moment in all undertakings, and pre-eminently so in those of war, no one doubts; and of all the things which contribute to enable us to hit the proper time nothing is more efficacious than fire signals. For they convey intelligence sometimes of what has just happened, sometimes of what is actually going on; and by paying proper attention to them one can get this information at three or four days’ journey off, and even more: so that it continually happens that the help required may be unexpectedly given, thanks to a message conveyed by fire signals. Now, formerly, as the art of signalling by fire was confined to a single method, it proved in very many cases unserviceable to those employing it. For as it was necessary to employ certain definite signals which had been agreed upon, and as possible occurrences are unlimited, the greater number of them were beyond the competence of the fire signals to convey. To take the present instance: it was possible by means of the signals agreed upon to send the information that a fleet had arrived at Oreus or Peparethos or Chalcis; but it was impossible to express that “certain citizens had gone over to the enemy,” or “were betraying the town,” or that “a massacre had taken place,” or any of those things which often occur, but which cannot be all anticipated. Yet it is precisely the unexpected occurrences which demand instant consideration and succour. All such things then were naturally beyond the competence of fire signalling, inasmuch as it was impossible to adopt an arbitrary sign for things which it was impossible to anticipate.
[10.44] Aeneas, therefore, the writer of the treatise on tactics, wished to correct this defect, and did in fact make some improvement; but his invention still fell very far short of what was wanted, as the following passage from his treatise will show.²⁶ “Let those who wish,” he says, “to communicate any matter of pressing importance to each other by fire-signals prepare two earthenware vessels of exactly equal size both as to diameter and depth. Let the depth be three cubits, the diameter one. Then prepare corks of a little shorter diameter than that of the vessels: and in the middle of these corks fix rods divided into equal portions of three fingers’ breadth, and let each of these portions be marked with a clearly distinguishable line: and in each let there be written one of the most obvious and universal of those events which occur in war; for instance in the first ‘cavalry have entered the country,’ in the second ‘hoplites,’ in the third ‘light-armed,’ in the next ‘infantry and cavalry,’ in another ‘ships,’ in another ‘corn,’ and so on, until all the portions have written on them the events which may reasonably be expected to occur in the particular war. Then carefully pierce both the vessels in such a way that the taps shall be exactly equal and carry off the same amount of water. Fill the vessels with water and lay the corks with their rods upon its surface, and set both taps running together. This being done, it is evident that if there is perfect equality in every respect between them, both corks will sink exactly in proportion as the water runs away, and both rods will disappear to the same extent into the vessels. When they have been tested, and the rate of the discharge of water has been found to be exactly equal in both, then the vessels should be taken respectively to the two places from which the two parties intend to watch for fire signals. As soon as any one of those eventualities which are inscribed upon the rods takes place, raise a lighted torch, and wait until the signal is answered by a torch from the others: this being raised, both parties are to set the taps running together. When the cork and rod on the signalling side has sunk low enough to bring the ring containing the words which give the desired information on a level with the rim of the vessel, a torch is to be raised again. Those on the receiving side are then at once to stop the tap, and to look at the words in the ring of the rod which is on a level with the rim of their vessel. This will be the same as that on the signalling side, assuming everything to be done at the same speed on both sides.”
[10.45] Now this method, though introducing a certain improvement in the system of fire signalling, is still wanting in definiteness: for it is evident that it is neither possible to anticipate, or, if you could anticipate, to write upon the rod every possible thing that may happen: and therefore, when anything unexpected in the chapter of accidents does occur, it is plainly impossible to communicate it by this method. Besides, even such statements as are written on the rods are quite indefinite; for the number of cavalry or infantry that have come, or the particular point in the territory which they have entered, the number of ships, or the amount of corn, cannot be expressed. For what cannot be known before it happens cannot have an arrangement made for expressing it. And this is the important point. For how is one to take proper measures for relief without knowing the number or direction of the enemy? Or how can the party to be relieved feel confidence or the reverse, or indeed have any conception at all of the situation, if it does not know how many ships or how much corn have been despatched by the allies?
[10.45] But the last method which was hit upon by Cleoxenus and Democlitus, and further elaborated by myself, is above all things definite, and made capable of indicating clearly whatever is needed at the moment; but in its working it requires attention and more than ordinarily close observation. It is as follows: Divide the alphabet into five groups of five letters each (of course the last group will be one letter short, but this will not interfere with the working of the system). The parties about to signal to each other must then prepare five tablets each, on which the several groups of letters must be written. They must then agree that the party signalling shall first raise two torches, and wait until the other raises two also. The object of this is to let each other know that they are attending. These torches having been lowered, the signalling party raises first torches on the left to indicate which of the tablets he means: for instance, one if he means the first, two if he means the second, and so on. He next raises torches on the right showing in a similar manner by their number which of the letters in the tablet he wishes to indicate to the recipient.
[10.46] This matter being agreed upon, the two parties must go to their respective points of observation; and each must have, to begin with, a stenoscope with two funnels, to enable him to distinguish through one the right, through the other the left position of the signaller opposite him. Near this stenoscope the tablets must be fixed, and both points, to the right and to the left, must be defended by a fence ten feet long and about the height of a man, in order to make it clear on which side the torches are raised, and to hide them entirely when they are lowered. These preparations completed on both sides, when a man wishes, for instance, to send the message “Some of our soldiers to the number of a hundred have deserted to the enemy,”—the first thing to do is to select words that may give the same information with the fewest letters, for instance, “A hundred Cretans have deserted,” for thus the number of letters is diminished by more than a half and the same information is given. This sentence having been written on a tablet will be transmitted by five signals thus: The first letter is κ, this comes in the second group of letters and therefore on the second tablet; the signaller therefore must raise two torches on the left to show the recipient that he must look at the second tablet; then he will raise five on the right, because κ is the fifth letter in the group,²⁷ which the recipient must thereupon write on his tablet. Then the signaller must raise four torches on the left, for ρ is in that group, and two on the right, because it is the second in the fourth group, and the recipient will write ρ on his tablet: and so on for the other letters.
[10.47] Now everything that happens can be definitely imparted by means of this invention; but the number of torches employed is large, because each letter has to be indicated by two series of them: still, if proper preparations are made, the thing can be adequately carried out. But whichever method is employed, those who use it must practise beforehand, in order that when the actual occasion for putting it in use arises they may be able to give each other the information without any hitch. For there are plenty of instances to show what a wide difference there is between the way an operation is carried out by men who hear of it for the first time, and by men who have become habituated to it. Many things which were considered not only difficult, but impossible at first, are, after an interval of time and practice, performed with the greatest ease. I could give many illustrations of the truth of this remark, but the clearest may be found in the art of reading. Put side by side a man who has never learnt his letters, though otherwise acute, and a child who has acquired the habit, and give the latter a book, and bid him read it: the former will clearly not be induced to believe that the reader has first to attend to the look of each of the letters, secondly to their sound-value, and thirdly to their combinations with others, each of which operation requires a certain time. Therefore when he sees the boy, without a pause for thought, reading off seven or five lines at a breath, he will not easily be induced to believe that he has not read the book before; and certainly not, if he is able also to observe the appropriate enunciation, the proper separations of the words, and the correct use of the rough and smooth breathings. The moral is, not to give up any useful accomplishment on account of its apparent difficulties, but to persevere till it becomes a matter of habit, which is the way mankind have obtained all good things. And especially is this right when the matters in question are such as are often of decisive importance to our safety.
[10.47] I was led to say this much in connexion with my former assertion that “all the arts had made such progress in our age that most of them were reduced in a manner to exact sciences.” And therefore this too is a point in which history properly written is of the highest utility. . . .
[10.47] Antiochus in Parthia, B.C. 209-5. See ch. 31.
[10.48] The Apasiacae live between the rivers Oxus and Tanais, the former of which falls into the Hyrcanian Sea, the latter into the Palus Maeotis.²⁸ Both are large enough to be navigable; and it seems surprising how the Nomads managed to come by land into Hyrcania along with their horses. Two accounts are given of this affair, one of them probable, the other very surprising yet not impossible. The Oxus rises in the Caucasus, and being much augmented by tributaries in Bactria, it rushes through the level plain with a violent and turbid stream. When it reaches the desert it dashes its stream against some precipitous rocks with a force raised to such tremendous proportions by the mass of its waters, and the declivity down which it has descended, that it leaps from the rocks to the plain below leaving an interval of more than a stade between the rock and its falls. It is through this space that they say the Apasiacae went on foot with their horses into Hyrcania, under the fall, and keeping close to the rock. The other account is more probable on the face of it. It is said that, as the basin of the river has extensive flats into which it descends with violence, the force of the stream makes hollows in them, and opens chasms into which the water descends deep below the surface, and so is carried on for a short way, and then reappears: and that the barbarians, being well acquainted with the facts, make their way on horseback, over the space thus left dry, into Hyrcania. . . .
[10.49] News being brought that Euthydemus²⁹ with his force was at Tapuria, and that a body of ten thousand horsemen were keeping guard at the passage of the river Arius, he decided to abandon the siege and attack these last. The river was three days’ march away. For two days therefore he marched at a moderate speed; but on the third, after dinner, he gave orders for the rest of his army to start next day at daybreak; while he himself, with the cavalry and light-armed troops and ten thousand peltasts, started in the night and pushed on at a great rate. For he was informed that the cavalry of the enemy kept guard by day on the bank of the river, but at night retired to a city more than twenty stades off. Having completed therefore the rest of the way under cover of night, the plains being excellent for riding, he got the greater part of his army across the river by daybreak, before the enemy came back. When their scouts told them what had happened, the horsemen of the Bactrians hastened to the rescue, and fell in with their opponents while on the march. Seeing that he must stand the first charge of the enemy, the king summoned the two thousand horsemen who were accustomed to fight round his own person; and issuing orders that the rest were to form their companies and squadrons, and take up their usual order on the ground on which they already were, he advanced with the two thousand cavalry, and met the charge of the advanced guard of the Bactrians. In this engagement Antiochus is reputed to have shown the greatest gallantry of any of his men. There was heavy loss on both sides: the king’s men conquered the first squadron, but when a second and a third charged, they began to be hard pressed and to suffer seriously. At that juncture, most of the cavalry being by this time on the ground, Panaetolus ordered a general advance; relieved the king and his squadrons; and, upon the Bactrians charging in loose order, forced them to turn and fly in confusion. They never drew rein before the charge of Panaetolus, until they rejoined Euthydemus, with a loss of more than half their number. The king’s cavalry on the contrary retired, after killing large numbers and taking a great many prisoners, and bivouacked by the side of the river. In this action the king had a horse killed under him, and lost some of his teeth by a blow on the mouth; and his whole bearing obtained him a reputation for bravery of the highest description. After this battle Euthydemus retreated in dismay with his army to the city of Zariaspa in Bactria. . . .

## Book XI

[11.1] My reason for prefixing a table of contents to each book, rather than a preface, is not because I do not recognise the usefulness of a preface in arresting attention and rousing interest, and also giving facilities for finding any passage that is wanted, but because I find prefaces viewed, though from many inadequate reasons, with contempt and neglect. I therefore had recourse to a table of contents throughout my history, except the first six books, arranged according to Olympiads, as being as effective, or even more so, than a preface, and at the same time as less subject to the objection of being out of place, for it is closely connected with the subject-matter. In the first six books I wrote prefaces, because I thought a mere table of contents less suitable. . . .
[11.1] After the battle at Baecula, Hasdrubal made good his passage over the Western Pyrenees, and thence through the Cevennes, B.C. 208. In the spring of B.C. 207 he crossed the Alps and descended into Italy, crossed the Po, and besieged Placentia. Thence he sent a letter to his brother Hannibal announcing that he would march southward by Ariminum and meet him in Umbria. The letter fell into the hands of the Consul Nero, who was at Venusia, and who immediately made a forced march northward, joined his colleague at Sena, and the next day attacked Hasdrubal. See above, 10, 39; Livy, 27, 39-49.
[11.1] Much easier and shorter was Hasdrubal’s journey into Italy. . . .³⁰
[11.1] Never at any other time had Rome been in a greater state of excitement and terrified expectation of the result. . . .³¹
[11.1] None of these arrangements satisfied Hasdrubal. But circumstances no longer admitted of delay. He saw the enemy drawn out in battle array and advancing; and he was obliged to get the Iberians and the Gauls who were serving with him into line. He therefore stationed his ten elephants on the front, increased the depth of his lines, and so had his whole army covering a somewhat small ground. He took up a position himself in the centre of the line, immediately behind the elephants, and commenced an advance upon the Roman left, with a full resolution that in this battle he must either conquer or die. Livius advanced to meet the enemy with proud confidence, and having come to close quarters with him was fighting with great gallantry. Meanwhile Claudius, who was stationed on the right wing, found himself unable to advance and outflank the enemy, owing to the rough ground in front of him, relying on which Hasdrubal had directed his advance upon the Roman left: and being embarrassed by his inability to strike a blow, he promptly decided what the circumstances pointed out as the tactics to pursue. He withdrew his men from the right wing, and marched them on the rear of the field of battle; and, after passing the left of the Roman line, fell upon the flank of the Carthaginians who were fighting near the elephants. Up to this point the victory had been doubtful; for both sides fought with desperation, the Romans believing that all would be over with them if they failed, and the Iberians and Carthaginians holding exactly the same conviction for themselves. Moreover the elephants were being of disservice to both sides alike; for finding themselves between two forces, and exposed to a crossfire of javelins, they kept throwing both the Carthaginian and Roman lines into confusion. But as soon as Claudius fell upon the rear of the enemy the battle ceased to be equal: for the Iberians found themselves attacked on front and rear at once, which resulted in the greater part of them being cut down on the ground. Six of the elephants were killed with the men on them, four forced their way through the lines and were afterwards captured, having been abandoned by their Indian drivers.
[11.2] Hasdrubal had behaved on this occasion, as throughout his whole life, like a brave man, and died fighting: and he deserves not to be passed over without remark. I have already stated that Hannibal was his brother, and on his departure to Italy entrusted the command in Iberia to him. I have also described his many contests with the Romans, and the many embarrassing difficulties with which he had to struggle, caused by the generals sent from Carthage to Iberia; and how in all these matters he had supported these vicissitudes and reverses in a noble spirit worthy of a son of Barcas. But I will now speak of his last contest, and explain why he seems to me pre-eminently to deserve respectful attention and imitation. Most generals and kings, when entering upon decisive battles, place before their eyes the glory and advantages to be obtained from victory, and frequently consider and contrive what use they will make of every success; but they do not go on to review the chances of failure, nor contemplate the plan to be adopted, or the action to be taken, in the case of reverse. Yet the former is obvious, the latter requires foresight. Therefore it is that most of them, though in many instances their soldiers have fought nobly, by their own folly and imprudence in this respect have added dishonour to defeat: have disgraced their previous achievements, and rendered themselves, during the remainder of their lives, objects of reproach and contempt. It is easy to see that many leaders make this fatal mistake, and that the difference between one man and another in these points is most signal; for history is full of such instances. Hasdrubal, on the contrary, as long as there was reasonable hope of being able to accomplish anything worthy of his former achievements, regarded his personal safety in battle as of the highest consequence; but when Fortune deprived him of all hopes for the future, and reduced him to the last extremities, though neglecting nothing either in his preparations or on the field that might secure him the victory, nevertheless considered how, in case of total overthrow, he might face his fate and suffer nothing unworthy of his past career.
[11.2] These remarks are meant for those engaged in active operations, that they may neither dash the hopes of those who rely upon them by a heedless seeking of danger, nor by an unworthy clinging to life add disgrace and shame to the catastrophies which befall them.
[11.3] Having won the victory, the Romans began pillaging the enemy’s camp; and killed a number of the Celts, as they lay stupefied with drunkenness in their beds, like unresisting victims. Then they collected the rest of the booty, from which more than three hundred talents were paid into the treasury. Taking Carthaginians and Celts together, not less than ten thousand were killed, and about two thousand Romans. Some of the principal Carthaginians were taken prisoners, but the rest were put to the sword. When the report reached Rome, people at first could not believe it, from the intensity of their wish that it might be true; but when still more men arrived, not only stating the fact, but giving full details, then indeed the city was filled with overpowering joy; every temple-court was decked, and every shrine full of sacrificial cakes and victims: and, in a word, they were raised to such a pitch of hopefulness and confidence, that every one felt sure that Hannibal, formerly the object of their chief terror, could not after that stay even in Italy. . . .
[11.4] A speech of the legate from Rhodes³² before an assembly of Aetolians at Heraclea in the autumn of B.C. 207 (see Livy, 28, 7), at the end of the summer campaign.
[11.4] “Facts I imagine, Aetolians, have made it clear to you that neither King Ptolemy nor the community of Rhodes, Byzantium, Chios, or Mitylene, regard a composition with you as unimportant. For this is not the first or the second time that we have introduced the subject of peace to your assembly; but ever since you entered upon the war we have beset you with entreaties, and have never desisted from warning you on this subject; because we saw that its immediate result would be the destruction of yourselves and of Macedonia, and because we foresaw in the future danger to our own countries and to that of all other Greeks. For as, when a man has once set a fire alight, the result is no longer dependent upon his choice, but it spreads in whatever direction chance may direct, guided for the most part by the wind and the combustible nature of the material, and frequently attacks the first author of the conflagration himself: so too, war, when once it has been kindled by a nation, sometimes devours the first those who kindled it; and soon rushes along destroying everything that falls in its way, continually gathering fresh strength, and blown into greater heat by the folly of the people in its neighbourhood, as though by the wind. Wherefore, men of Aetolia, considering that we, as representatives of the whole body of the islanders and of the Greek inhabitants of Asia, are here to beseech you to put an end to war and to choose peace, because the matter affects us as well as you, show your wisdom by listening to us and yielding to our entreaties. For if you were carrying on a war which, though profitless (and most wars are that), was yet glorious from the motive which prompted it, and the reputation likely to accrue from it, you might be pardoned perhaps for a fixed determination to continue it; but if it is a war of the most signal infamy, which can bring you nothing but discredit and obloquy,—does not such an undertaking claim considerable hesitation on your part? We will speak our opinion frankly; and you, if you are wise, will give us a quiet hearing. For it is much better to hear a disagreeable truth now and thereby be preserved, than to listen to smooth things now, and soon afterwards to be ruined yourselves, and to ruin the rest of the Greeks with you.
[11.5] “Put then before your eyes your own folly. You profess to be at war against Philip on behalf of the Greeks, that they may escape from servitude to him; but your war is really for the enslavement and ruin of Greece. That is the tale told by your treaty with Rome, which formerly existed only in written words, but is now seen in full operation. Heretofore, though mere written words, it was a disgrace to you: but now your execution of it has made that disgrace palpable to the eyes of all the world. Moreover, Philip merely lends his name and serves as a pretext for the war: he is not exposed to any attack: it is against his allies,—the majority of the Peloponnesian states, Boeotia, Euboea, Phocis, Locris, Thessaly, Epirus,—that you have made this treaty, bargaining that their bodies and their goods shall belong to the Romans, their cities and their territory to the Aetolians. And though personally, if you took a city, you would not stoop to violate the freeborn, or to burn the buildings, because you look upon such conduct as cruel and barbarous; yet you have made a treaty by which you have handed over all other Greeks to the barbarians, to be exposed to the most shameful violence and lawlessness. And all this was hitherto kept a secret. But now the fate of the people of Oreus, and of the miserable Aeginetans, has betrayed you to every one,—Fortune having, as though of set purpose, suddenly brought your infatuation before the scenes.
[11.5] “So much for the origin of the war and its events up to now. But as to its result,—supposing everything to go to your wish,—what do you expect that to be? Will it not be the beginning of great miseries to all Greece?
[11.6] “For I presume no one can fail to see that, if once the Romans get rid of the war in Italy,—and this is all but done, now that Hannibal has been confined to a narrow district in Bruttii,—they will direct their whole power upon Greece: professedly, indeed, in aid of the Boeotians against Philip, but really with the view of reducing it entirely under their own power. And if they design to treat it well when they have conquered it, theirs will be the honour and glory; and if badly, theirs too will be the plunder from the states they destroy, and the power over those which they allow to survive: while you will be calling upon the gods to witness your wrongs, when no god will be any longer willing, nor any man be able to help you. Now, perhaps, you ought to have foreseen all this from the first, for that would have been your best course. But since the future often escapes human foresight, now, at any rate, that you have seen by actual experience what has happened, it must be your duty to take better measures for the future. In any case we have omitted nothing which it becomes sincere friends to say or do. We have spoken our opinion about the future with absolute frankness; and you we urge and entreat not to stand in the way of the freedom and safety of yourselves or of the rest of Greece.”
[11.6] This speaker having, as it seemed, made a considerable impression, he was followed by the ambassadors of Philip, who, without making a long speech, merely said that they were commissioned to do one of two things,—if the Aetolians chose peace, to accept it readily: if not, to call the gods and the ambassadors from Greece to witness that the Aetolians, and not Philip, ought to be held responsible for what happened thereafter, and so to depart. . . .
[11.7] Philip loudly lamented his ill-fortune in having so narrowly missed getting Attalus into his hands. . . .
[11.7] On his way to the lake Trichonis Philip arrived at Thermus, where there was a temple of Apollo; and there he once more defaced all the sacred buildings which he had spared on his former occupation of the town. In both instances it was an ill-advised indulgence of temper: for it is a mark of utter unreasonableness to commit an act of impiety against heaven in order to gratify one’s wrath against man. . . .
[11.8] There are three methods followed by those who wish to arrive at an intelligent knowledge of tactics. The first is by the study of history, the second by the use of scientific treatises composed by specialists, the third by actual experience on the field. But of all three of these methods the Achaean commanders were equally ignorant. . . .
[11.8] A very general fault in the men was an unfortunate rivalry, engendered by the ostentation and bad taste of the others. They were very particular about their attendants and their dress; and there was a show of splendour in this, kept up by the majority beyond their means. But to their arms they paid no attention whatever. . . .
[11.8] Most people, indeed, do not so much as attempt to imitate the real achievements of those who obtain success, but, while trying to reproduce their unimportant peculiarities, succeed only in displaying their own frivolity. . . .

### Philopoemen in the Peloponnese, B. C. 207

[11.9] “Brightness in the armour,” he said, “contributes much to inspire dismay in the enemy; and care bestowed on having it made to fit properly is of great service in actual use. This will best be secured if you give to your arms the attention which you now bestow on your dress, and transfer to your dress the neglect which you now show of your arms. By thus acting, you will at once save your money, and be undoubtedly able to maintain the interests of your country. Therefore the man who is going to take part in manœuvres or a campaign ought, when putting on his greaves, to see that they are bright and well-fitting, much more than that his shoes and boots are; and when he takes up his shield and helmet, to take care that they are cleaner and more costly than his cloak and shirt: for when men take greater care of what is for show, than of what is for use, there can be no doubt of what will happen to them on the field. I beg you to consider that elaboration in dress is a woman’s weakness, and a woman of no very high character either; but costliness and splendour in armour are the characteristics of brave men who are resolved on saving themselves and their country with glory.”
[11.9] The whole audience were so convinced by this speech and so much struck with the wisdom of the advice, that, immediately after leaving the council-chamber, they began pointing with scorn at the over-dressed dandies, and forced some of them to quit the market-place; and what is more, in future manœuvres and campaigns they kept a stricter watch on each other in these points.
[11.10] So true it is that a single word spoken by a man of credit is often sufficient not only to turn men from the worst courses, but even to incite them to the noblest. But when such a speaker can appeal to his own life as in harmony with his words, then indeed his exhortation carries a weight which nothing can exceed. And this was above all others the case with Philopoemen. For in his dress and eating, as well as in all that concerned his bodily wants, he was plain and simple; in his manners to others without ceremony or pretence; and throughout his life he made it his chief aim to be absolutely sincere. Consequently a few unstudied words from him were sufficient to raise a firm conviction in the minds of his hearers; for as he could point to his own life as an example, they wanted little more to convince them. Thus it happened on several occasions, that the confidence he inspired, and the consciousness of his achievements, enabled him in a few words to overthrow long and, as his opponents thought, skilfully argued speeches.
[11.10] So on this occasion, as soon as the council of the league separated, all returned to their cities deeply impressed both by the words and the man himself, and convinced that no harm could happen to them with him at their head. Immediately afterwards Philopoemen set out on a visitation of the cities, which he performed with great energy and speed. He then summoned a levy of citizens and began forming them into companies and drilling them; and at last, after eight months of this preparation and training, he mustered his forces at Mantinea, prepared to fight the tyrant Machanidas in behalf of the freedom of all the Peloponnesians.
[11.11] Machanidas had now acquired great confidence, and looked upon the determination of the Achaeans as extremely favourable to his plans. As soon as he heard of their being in force at Mantinea, he duly harangued his Lacedaemonians at Tegea, and the very next morning at daybreak advanced upon Mantinea. He led the right wing of the phalanx himself; his mercenaries marched in two parallel columns on each side of his front; and behind them were carts carrying quantities of field artillery and bolts for the catapults. Meanwhile Philopoemen too had arranged his army in three divisions, and was leading them out of Mantinea, the Illyrians and the men with body armour by the gate leading to the temple of Poseidon, and with them all the rest of the foreign contingent and light-armed troops; by the next gate, toward the west, the phalanx; and by the next the Achaean cavalry. He sent his light-armed men forward to occupy the hill, which rises to a considerable height above the road called Xenis and the above-mentioned temple: he stationed the men with body armour next, resting on this hill to the south; next them the Illyrians; next them, in the same straight line, the phalanx, drawn up in companies, with an interval between each, along the ditch which runs towards the temple of Poseidon, right through the middle of the plain of Mantinea, until it touches the range of mountains that forms the boundary of the territory of the Elisphasii. Next to them, on the right wing, he stationed the Achaean cavalry, under the command of Aristaenetus of Dyme; while on the left wing he led the whole of the foreign contingent, drawn up in lines one behind the other.
[11.12] As soon as the enemy were well in sight, Philopoemen went down the ranks of the phalanx, and addressed to them an exhortation which, though short, clearly pointed out to them the nature of the battle in which they were engaged. But most of what he said was rendered inaudible by the answering shouts of the troops. The affection and confidence of the men rose to such a pitch of enthusiasm and zeal that they seemed to be almost acting under a divine inspiration, as they cried out to him to lead them on and fear nothing. However he tried, when he could get the opportunity, to make this much clear to them, that the battle on the one side was to establish a shameful and ignominious servitude, on the other to vindicate an ever-memorable and glorious liberty.
[11.12] Machanidas at first looked as though he meant to attack the enemy’s right wing in column; but when he got within moderate distance he deployed into line by the right, and by this extension movement made his right wing cover the same amount of ground as the left wing of the Achaeans, and fixed his catapults in front of the whole force at intervals. Philopoemen understood that the enemy’s plan was, by pouring volleys from the catapults into his phalanx, to throw the ranks into confusion: he therefore gave him no time or interval of repose, but opened the engagement by a vigorous charge of his Tarentines³³ close to the temple of Poseidon, where the ground was flat and suitable for cavalry. Whereupon Machanidas was constrained to follow suit by sending his Tarentines forward also.
[11.13] At first the struggle was confined to these two forces, and was maintained with spirit. But the light-armed troops coming gradually to the support of such of them as were wavering, in a very short time the whole of the mercenaries on either side were engaged. They fought sometimes in close order, sometimes in pairs: and for a long time so entirely without decisive result, that the rest of the two armies, who were watching in which direction the cloud of dust inclined, could come to no conclusion, because both sides maintained for a long while exactly their original ground. But after a time the mercenaries of the tyrant began to get the better of the struggle, from their numbers, and the superiority in skill obtained by long practice. And this is the natural and usual result. The citizens of a democracy no doubt bring more enthusiasm to their battles than the subjects of a tyrant; but in the same proportion the mercenaries of sovereigns are naturally superior and more efficient than those of a democracy. For in the former case one side is fighting for liberty, the other for a condition of servitude; but in the case of mercenaries, those of the tyrant are encouraged by the certain prospect of reward, those of a democracy know that they must lose by victory: for as soon as a democracy has crushed its assailants, it no longer employs mercenaries to protect its liberties; while a tyranny requires more mercenaries in proportion as its field of ambition is extended: for as the persons injured by it are more numerous, those who plot against it are more numerous also; and the security of despots rests entirely on the loyalty and power of mercenaries.
[11.14] Thus it came about that the mercenaries in the army of Machanidas fought with such fury and violence, that even the Illyrians and men with body armour, who formed the reserve supporting the mercenaries of the Achaean army, were unable to withstand their assault; but were all driven from their position, and fled in confusion towards the city of Mantinea, which was about seven stades distant.
[11.14] And now there occurred an undoubted instance of what some doubt, namely, that the issues in war are for the most part decided by the skill or want of skill of the commanders. For though perhaps it is a great thing to be able to follow up a first success properly, it is a greater thing still that, when the first step has proved a failure, a man should retain his presence of mind, keep a good look-out for any error of judgment on the part of the victors, and avail himself of their mistakes. At any rate one often sees the side, which imagines itself to have obtained a clear victory, ultimately lose the day; while those who seemed at first to have failed recover themselves by presence of mind, and ultimately win an unexpected victory. Both happened on this occasion to the respective leaders.
[11.14] The whole of the Achaean mercenaries having been driven from their ground, and their left wing having been thoroughly broken up, Machanidas abandoned his original plan of winning the day by outflanking the enemy with some of his forces and charging their front with others, and did neither; but, quite losing his head, rushed forward heedlessly with all his mercenaries in pursuit of the fugitives, as though the panic was not in itself sufficient to drive those who had once given way up to the town gates.
[11.15] Meanwhile the Achaean general was doing all he could to rally the mercenaries, addressing the officers by name, and urging them to stand; but when he saw that they were hopelessly beaten, he did not run away in a panic nor give up the battle in despair, but, withdrawing under cover of his phalanx, waited until the enemy had passed him in their pursuit, and left the ground on which the fighting had taken place empty, and then immediately gave the word to the front companies of the phalanx to wheel to the left, and advance at the double, without breaking their ranks. He thus swiftly occupied the ground abandoned by his mercenaries, and at once cut off the pursuers from returning, and got on higher ground than the enemy’s right wing. He exhorted the men to keep up their courage, and remain where they were, until he gave the word for a general advance; and he ordered Polybius of Megalopolis³⁴ to collect such of the Illyrians and body armour men and mercenaries as remained behind and had not taken part in the flight, and form a reserve on the flank of the phalanx, to keep a look-out against the return of the pursuers. Thereupon the Lacedaemonians, excited by the victory gained by the light-armed contingent, without waiting for the word of command, brought their sarissae to the charge and rushed upon the enemy. But when in the course of their advance they reached the edge of the dyke, being unable at that point to change their purpose and retreat when at such close quarters with the enemy, and partly because they did not consider the dyke a serious obstacle, as the slope down to it was very gradual, and it was entirely without water or underwood growing in it, they continued their advance through it without stopping to think.
[11.16] The opportunity for attack which Philopoemen had long foreseen had now arrived. He at once ordered the phalanx to bring their sarissae to the charge and advance. The men obeyed with enthusiasm, and accompanied their charge with a ringing cheer. The ranks of the Lacedaemonians had been disorganised by the passage of the dyke, and as they ascended the opposite bank they found the enemy above them. They lost courage and tried to fly; but the greater number of them were killed in the ditch itself, partly by the Achaeans, and partly by trampling on each other. Now this result was not unpremeditated or accidental, but strictly owing to the acuteness of the general. For Philopoemen originally took ground behind the dyke, not to avoid fighting, as some supposed, but from a very accurate and scientific calculation of strategical advantages. He reckoned either that Machanidas when he arrived would advance without thinking of the dyke, and that then his phalanx would get entangled, just as I have described their actually doing; or that if he advanced with a full apprehension of the difficulty presented by the dyke, and then changing his mind and deciding to shrink from the attempt, were to retire in loose order and a long straggling column,³⁵ the victory would be his, without a general engagement, and the defeat his adversary’s. For this has happened to many commanders, who having drawn up their men for battle, and then concluded that they were not strong enough to meet their opponents, either from the nature of the ground, the disparity of their numbers, or for other reasons, have drawn off in too long a line of march, and hoped in the course of the retreat to win a victory, or at least get safe away from the enemy, by means of their rear guard alone.
[11.17] However, Philopoemen was not deceived in his prognostication of what would happen; for the Lacedaemonians were thoroughly routed. Seeing therefore that his phalanx was victorious and that he had gained a complete and brilliant success, he set himself vigorously to secure the only thing wanting to complete it, that is, to prevent the escape of Machanidas. Seeing therefore that, in the course of the pursuit, he was caught between the dyke and the town with his mercenaries, he waited for him to attempt a return. But when Machanidas saw that his army was in full retreat, with the enemy at their heels, he knew that he had advanced too far, and had lost his chance of victory: he therefore rallied the mercenaries that he had with him, and tried to form close order, and cut his way through the enemy, while they were still scattered and engaged in the pursuit. Some of his men, understanding his plan and seeing no other hope of safety, kept by him at first; but when they came upon the ground, and saw the Achaeans guarding the bridge over the dyke, they lost heart; and the whole company began falling away from him, each doing the best he could to preserve his own life. Thereupon the tyrant gave up all hope of making his way over the bridge; and rode along the edge of the dyke, trying with all his might to find a place which he could cross.
[11.18] Philopoemen recognised Machanidas by his purple cloak and the trappings of his horse. He at once left Anaxidamus, with orders to guard the bridge with vigilance, and give no quarter to any of the mercenaries; because they were the men on whom the despots of Sparta always depended for supporting their power. Then taking Polyaenus of Cyprus and Simias, who were attending on him at the time, he rode along the edge of the ditch opposite to that in which the tyrant and his attendants were; for Machanidas had still two men with him, Arexidamus and one of the mercenaries. As soon as Machanidas had found a spot in the dyke which could be crossed, he put spurs to his horse, and tried to force it to go on and get over. Then Philopoemen turned suddenly round upon him and dealt him a mortal wound with his spear, and a second with a stab from the spike at the butt end of it, and thus killed the tyrant in a hand-to-hand encounter. Those who were riding with him did the same to Arexidamus; but the third man seeing their fall gave up the idea of crossing the dyke and escaped. Simias immediately stripped the bodies of the two who had fallen, and with their armour carried off also the tyrant’s head, and then hurried off to overtake the pursuing party; being eager to give the soldiers ocular evidence of the fall of the enemy’s commander, that they might continue the pursuit of their opponents with all the more confidence and spirit right up to Tegea. And this in fact added so greatly to the spirit of the men that it contributed more than anything else to their carrying Tegea by assault, and pitching their camp next day on the Eurotas, undisputed masters of all the open country. For many years past they had been vainly trying to drive the enemy from their own borders, but now they were themselves devastating Laconia without resistance, without having lost any great number of their own men in the battle; while they had killed not less than four thousand Lacedaemonians, taken even more prisoners, and possessed themselves of all their baggage and arms. . . .

### The Hannibalian War Continued

[11.19] What profit is it to our readers to describe wars and battles, the storming of cities and the enslavement of their inhabitants, if they are to know nothing of the causes which conduce to success and failure? The results of such operations merely touch the fancy: it is the tracing of the designs of the actors in such scenes that is really instructive; and above all it is the following in detail of each step that can educate the ideas of the student. . . .
[11.19] Ability of Hannibal. See Livy, 28, 12
[11.19] Who could refrain from speaking in terms of admiration of this great man’s strategic skill, courage, and ability, when one looks to the length of time during which he displayed those qualities; and realises to one’s self the pitched battles, the skirmishes and sieges, the revolutions and counter-revolutions of states, the vicissitudes of fortune, and in fact the course of his design and its execution in its entirety? For sixteen continuous years Hannibal maintained the war with Rome in Italy, without once releasing his army from service in the field, but keeping those vast numbers under control, like a good pilot, without any sign of disaffection towards himself or towards each other, though he had troops in his service who, so far from being of the same tribe, were not even of the same race. He had Libyans, Iberians, Ligurians, Celts, Phoenicians, Italians, Greeks, who had naturally nothing in common with each other, neither laws, nor customs, nor language. Yet the skill of the commander was such, that these differences, so manifold and so wide, did not disturb the obedience to one word of command and to a single will. And yet circumstances were not by any means unvarying: for though the breeze of fortune often set strongly in his favour, it as often also blew in exactly the opposite direction. There is therefore good ground for admiring Hannibal’s display of ability in campaign; and there can be no fear in saying that, if he had reserved his attack upon the Romans until he had first subdued other parts of the world, there is not one of his projects which would have eluded his grasp. As it was, he began with those whom he should have attacked last, and accordingly began and ended his career with them. . . .

### Scipio in Spain, After the Battle of the Metaurus

[11.20] Hasdrubal having collected his forces from the various towns in which they had wintered, advanced to within a short distance of Ilipa and there encamped; forming his entrenchment at the foot of the mountains, with a plain in front of him well suited for a contest and battle. His infantry amounted to seventy thousand, his cavalry to four thousand, and his elephants to thirty-two. On his part, Scipio sent M. Junius Silanus to visit Colichas and take over from him the forces that had been prepared by him. These amounted to three thousand infantry and five hundred horse. The other allies he received personally in the course of his march up the country to his destination. When he approached Castalo and Baecula, and had there been joined by Marcus Junius and the troops from Colichas, he found himself in a position of great perplexity. For without their allies the Roman forces were not strong enough to risk a battle; yet to do so, in dependence upon the allies for his hopes of ultimate success, appeared to him to be dangerous and too venturesome. In spite however of his perplexity, he was obliged to yield to the force of circumstances so far as to employ the Iberians; but he resolved to do so only to make a show of numbers to the enemy, while he really fought the action with his own legions. With this purpose in his mind he got his whole army on the march, forty-five thousand infantry and three thousand cavalry; and when he had come within the view of the Carthaginians, he pitched his camp on some low hills exactly opposite the enemy.
[11.21] Mago thought that it would be an excellent moment to attack the Romans while actually engaged in making their camp; he therefore rode up to the entrenchment with the greater part of his own cavalry and Massanissa with the Numidians, persuaded that he should catch Scipio off his guard. Scipio had however all along foreseen this, and had placed some cavalry equal in number to those of the Carthaginians under cover of some hills. Upon these making an unexpected charge, many of the enemy’s horsemen at once took to flight at the startling appearance, and began to make off; while the rest closed with their opponents and fought with great gallantry. But the Carthaginians were disconcerted by the agility of some of the Roman horsemen in dismounting, and after a short resistance they retreated with considerable loss. The retreat was at first conducted in good order: but as the Romans pressed them hard, they broke up their squadrons, and fled for safety to their own camp. This affair gave the Romans better spirits for engaging in a pitched battle, and had the contrary effect on the Carthaginians. However, during the next few days they both drew out on the intervening plain; skirmished with their cavalry and light-armed troops; and, after thus trying each other’s mettle, were resolved to bring the matter to the test of a general engagement.
[11.22] On this occasion Scipio appears to have employed a twofold stratagem. Hasdrubal had been accustomed to make his demonstrations in force somewhat late in the day, with the Libyans in his centre, and the elephants on either wing; while his own practice had been to make his counter-movements somewhat later still, with the Roman soldiers on his centre opposite the Libyans, and the Iberians on his two wings; but the day on which he resolved upon a general engagement, by reversing this arrangement, he greatly contributed to secure the victory for his own men, and succeeded in putting the enemy at a considerable disadvantage. For directly it was light he sent his aides with orders to the tribunes and men to arm, as soon as they had got their breakfasts, and parade outside the camp. The order was obeyed with alacrity because the men suspected what was going to take place. He then sent the cavalry and light-armed forward, with orders to advance close to the enemy’s camp, and skirmish boldly up to it; while he himself marched out with the infantry, just as the sun was appearing above the horizon; and on reaching the middle of the plain, made his dispositions in the reverse order to his usual arrangement, placing the Iberians in the centre and the Roman legionaries on the two wings.
[11.22] The sudden approach of the cavalry to their camp, and the simultaneous appearance of the rest of the army getting into order, left the Carthaginians barely time to get under arms. Hasdrubal was therefore obliged, without waiting for the men to get breakfast, or making any preparations, to despatch his cavalry and light-armed troops at once against the enemy’s cavalry on the plain, and to get his infantry into order on some level ground not far from the skirts of the mountains, as was their custom. For a time the Romans remained quiet; but when the morning was getting on, and the engagement between the light-armed troops still continued undecided, because such of them as were forced from their ground retired on their own heavy infantry and then formed again for attack, Scipio at length thought that the time was come. He withdrew his skirmishers through the intervals of the maniples, and then distributed them equally between the two wings on rear of his line, first the velites and behind them the cavalry. He then advanced, at first in line direct; but when he was about a stade³⁶ from the enemy, he ordered the Iberians to continue the advance in the same order, while he commanded the maniples and squadrons on the right wing to turn outwards to the right, and those on the left wing to the left.
[11.23] Scipio with the three leading squadrons of cavalry from the right wing, preceded by the usual number of velites and three maniples (a combination of troops which the Romans call a cohort), and Lucius Marcius and Marcus Junius with a similar force from the left wing, turned the one to the left the other to the right, and advanced at a great speed in column upon the enemy, the troops in succession forming up and following in column as they wheeled. When these troops were within a short distance of the enemy,—the Iberians in the line direct being still a considerable distance behind, because they were advancing at a deliberate pace,—they came into contact with the two wings of the enemy simultaneously, the Roman forces being in column, according to Scipio’s original plan. The movements subsequent to this, which resulted in the troops on the rear finding themselves in the same line as the troops in front, and engaged like them with the enemy, were exactly the converse of each other—taking the right and left wings in general, and the cavalry and infantry in particular. For the cavalry and velites on the right wing came into line on the right and tried to outflank the enemy, while the heavy infantry came into line on the left; but on the left wing the heavy infantry came into line by the right, the cavalry and velites by the left. The result of this movement was that, as far as the cavalry and light infantry were concerned, their right became their left. Scipio cared little for this, but was intent on something more important, namely, the outflanking of the enemy. For while a general ought to be quite alive to what is taking place, and rightly so, he ought to use whatever movements suit the circumstances.
[11.24] When these troops were at close quarters the elephants were severely handled, being wounded and harassed on every side by the velites and cavalry, and did as much harm to their friends as to their foes; for they rushed about promiscuously and killed every one that fell in their way on either side alike. As to the infantry,— the Carthaginian wings began to be broken, but the centre occupied by the Libyans, and which was the best part of the army, was never engaged at all. It could not quit its ground to go to the support of the wings for fear of the attack of the Iberians, nor could it by maintaining its position do any actual fighting, because the enemy in front of it did not come to close quarters. However, for a certain time the two wings fought gallantly, because it was for them, as for the enemy, a struggle for life and death. But now the midday heat was become intense, and the Carthaginians began to feel faint, because the unusual time at which they had been forced to come on the field had prevented them from fortifying themselves with the proper food; while the Romans had the advantage in physical vigour as well as in cheerfulness, which was especially promoted by the fact that the prudence of their general had secured his best men being pitted against the weakest troops of the enemy. Thus hard pressed Hasdrubal’s centre began to retreat: at first step by step; but soon the ranks were broken, and the men rushed in confusion to the skirts of the mountain; and on the Romans pressing in pursuit with still greater violence, they began a headlong flight into their entrenchments. Had not Providence interfered to save them, they would promptly have been driven from their camp too; but a sudden storm gathered in the air, and a violent and prolonged torrent of rain descended, under which the Romans with difficulty effected a return to their own camp. . . .
[11.24] Many Romans lost their lives by the fire in trying to get the silver and gold which had been melted and fused. . . .
[11.24b] When every one complimented Scipio after he had driven the Carthaginians from Iberia, and advised him straightway to take some rest and ease, as having put a period to the war, he answered that he “congratulated them on their sanguine hopes; for himself he was now more than ever revolving in his mind how to begin the war with Carthage. Up to that time the Carthaginians had waged war upon the Romans; but that now fortune put it in the power of the Romans to make war upon them. . . .”
[11.24c] See Livy, 28, 17, 18.
[11.24c] In his conversation with Syphax, Scipio, who was eminently endowed by nature in this respect, conducted himself with so much kindness and tact, that Hasdrubal afterwards remarked to Syphax that “Scipio appeared more formidable to him in such an interview than in the field. . . .”
[11.25] When a mutiny broke out among part of the troops in the Roman camp, Scipio, though he had now had a very adequate experience of the difficulties of administration, never felt himself more at a loss how to act or in greater embarrassment. And naturally so. For as in the case of the body, causes of mischief, such as cold, heat, fatigue, or wounds, may be avoided by precautions, or easily relieved when they occur; while those which arise from within the body itself, such as tumours or diseases, are difficult to foresee and difficult to relieve when they do exist, so it is, we must believe, with political and military administration. Against plots from without, and the attacks of enemies, the precautions to be taken and the measures for relief may readily be learned by those who pay the requisite attention; but to decide on the right method of resisting intestine factions, revolutions, and disturbances is difficult, and requires great tact and extreme acuteness; and, moreover, the observation of one maxim suitable in my opinion to all armies, states, and bodies alike, which is this: never in such cases to allow any lengthened idleness or repose, and least of all at a time of success and when provisions are abundant.
[11.25] Being, then, as I have all along said, a man eminently careful, acute, and prompt, Scipio summoned a meeting of the military tribunes and proposed a solution of the existing troubles as follows. He said that “he must promise the soldiers the settlement of their pay; and, in order to create a belief in his promise, he must now take public steps to exact with all speed the contributions which had been already imposed upon the cities for the support of the whole army, with the distinct understanding that the object of that measure was the settlement of the pay: and these same tribunes should return to the army and urge and entreat the men to abandon their rebellious spirit, and come to him to receive their pay, either singly or, if they preferred it, in a body. And when this was done he would consider, as circumstances arose, what measures it was necessary to take.”
[11.26] With this suggestion in their minds these officers deliberated on the means of raising money; and having communicated their decisions to Scipio, he said that he would now consult them on the next necessary step. They accordingly resolved that they would name a day on which all were to appear; and that then they would pardon the general body of the men, but severely punish the instigators of the mutiny, who were as many as thirty-five. The day having arrived, and the mutineers having appeared to make terms and receive their pay, Scipio gave secret instructions to the tribunes, who had been sent on the mission to them, to meet them; and, each of them selecting five of the ringleaders, to greet them with politeness and invite them, if possible, to their own tent, or, if they could not do that, to dinner or some such entertainment. But to the troops with him he sent round orders to have provisions for a considerable period ready in three days’ time, because they were to march against the deserter Andobales under Marcus Silanus. When they heard this the mutineers were much emboldened, because they imagined that they would have everything in their own hands, as the other troops would be gone by the time they joined the general.
[11.27] Upon the approach of the mutineers, Scipio gave orders to his army to march out the next morning at daybreak with their baggage. But he instructed the tribunes and praefects that, as soon as they met the mutineers, they should order their men to put down their baggage, and keep them under arms at the city gate; and then, placing a detachment at each of the gates, take good care that none of the mutineers should leave the city. The officers who had been sent to meet the men fell in with them on their arrival, and took the ringleaders with every appearance of civility to their own tents, in accordance with the arrangement that had been made. At the same time orders had been given to them to arrest the thirty-five immediately after dinner, and to keep them in fetters: without allowing any one in the tent to go out, except the messenger who was to inform the general from each of them that this had been accomplished.
[11.27] The tribunes having done as they were ordered, at daybreak next morning, seeing that the new arrivals were collected in the market-place, the general gave the signal for the assembly of the army. The signal was as usual promptly obeyed by all, for they were curious to see how the general would demean himself in their presence, and what he would say to them about the business in hand. As soon as they were come together, Scipio sent word to the tribunes to bring their soldiers under arms, and station them round the assembled men. He then came forward himself. His first appearance caused an immediate change of feeling. The soldiers supposed that he was still unwell, and when they suddenly saw him, contrary to all expectations, with all the appearance of full health and strength, they were struck with terror.
[11.28] He began his speech by saying that he wondered what their grievances were, or what they looked for forward that induced them to mutiny. For that there were three motives only on which men usually venture to rebel against their country and their commanders,—discontent and anger with their officers; dissatisfaction with their present position; or, lastly, hopes of something better and more glorious. “Now, I ask you,” he continued, “which of these can you allege? It is with me, I presume, that you are dissatisfied, because I did not pay you your wages. But this cannot be laid to my charge; for while I was in office your pay was never short. The fault then may lie with Rome that the accumulated arrears have not been settled. Which was your proper course then in that case? To have brought forward your complaint thus, as rebels and enemies to the country that nurtured you, or to have come personally to me and stated your case, and to have begged your friends to support and help you? The latter would have been the better plan in my opinion. In those who serve others for pay it is sometimes pardonable to revolt against their paymasters; but in the case of those who are fighting for themselves, for their own wives and children, it can in no circumstances be conceded. It is just as though, on the plea of being wronged in money matters by his own father, a man were to come in arms to slay him from whom he received his own life. Or perhaps you may allege that I imposed greater hardships and dangers on you than on the others, and gave the rest more than their share of profits and booty. But you can neither venture to say this, nor, if you did venture, could you prove it. What then is your grievance against me at this moment, I should like to ask, that you have mutinied? I believe that not one of you will be able to express or even conceive it.
[11.29] “Nor again can it have been any dissatisfaction with the position of affairs. For when was any prosperity greater? When has Rome won more victories, when have her arms had brighter prospects than now? But perhaps some faint-heart will say that our enemies have more numerous advantages, fairer and more certain prospects than ourselves. Which, pray, of these enemies? Is it Andobales and Mandonius? But which of you is ignorant of the fact that these men first betrayed the Carthaginians and joined us, and now once more, in defiance of their oaths and pledges, have come forward as our opponents? It is a fine thing surely to become the enemies of your country in reliance on such men as these! Nor again had you any prospect of becoming masters of Iberia by your own prowess: for you would not have been strong enough, even in conjunction with Andobales, to meet us in the field, to say nothing of doing so without such aid. I should like then to ask,—what was it in which you trusted? Surely not in the skill and valour of the leaders whom you have now elected, or in the fasces and axes which were borne in front of them,—men of whom I will not deign to say even another word. All this, my men, is absolutely futile; nor will you be able to allege even the smallest just complaint against me or your country. Wherefore I will undertake your defence to Rome and myself, by putting forward a plea which all the world will acknowledge to hold good. And it is that, a crowd is ever easily misled and easily induced to any error. Therefore it is that crowds are like the sea, which in its own nature is safe and quiet; but, when winds fall violently upon it, assumes the character of the blasts which lash it into fury: thus a multitude also is ever found to be what its leaders and counsellors are. Acting on this consideration, I and all my fellow-officers hereby offer you pardon and amnesty for the past: but to the guilty authors of the mutiny we are resolved to show no mercy, but to punish them as their misconduct to their country and to ourselves deserves.”
[11.30] Just as he said these words, the soldiers, who were posted under arms round the assembly, clashed their swords against their shields: and at the same instant the ringleaders of the mutiny were brought in, stripped and in chains. But such terror was inspired in the men by the threatening aspect of the surrounding troops, and by the dreadful spectacle before them, that, while the ringleaders were being scourged and beheaded, they neither changed countenance nor uttered a sound, but remained all staring open-mouthed and terrified at what was going on. So the ringleaders of the mischief were scourged and dragged off through the crowd dead; but the rest of the men accepted with one consent the offer of an amnesty from the general and officers; and then voluntarily came forward, one by one, to take an oath to the tribunes that they would obey the orders of their commanders and remain loyal to Rome.
[11.30] Having thus crushed what might have been the beginning of serious danger, Scipio restored his troops to their former good disposition. . . .
[11.30] Scipio at New Carthage has heard of hostile movements on the part of Andobales north of the Ebro, B. C. 206. See Livy, 28, 31-34.
[11.31] Scipio at once summoned a meeting of the soldiers in New Carthage, and addressed them on the subject of the audacious proceedings of Andobales, and his treachery to them; and by dwelling at great length on these topics he inspired the men with a very great eagerness to attack these princes. He then proceeded to enumerate the battles they had already fought against the Iberians and Carthaginians combined, the Carthaginians acting as leaders in the campaigns. “Seeing,” he added, “that you always beat them, it does not now become you to fear defeat in a war against Iberians by themselves, and led by Andobales. I will not therefore even accept any Iberian of them all as a partner in the struggle, but I will undertake the campaign by the unassisted services of my Roman soldiers: in order to make it plain to all that it was not, as some assert, by the aid of Iberians that we defeated the Carthaginians and drove them from Iberia; but that it was by Roman valour and your own gallantry that we have conquered Carthaginian and Celtiberian combined. Let nothing therefore disturb your confidence in each other: but, if you have ever done it before, approach this undertaking with courage undismayed. For securing the victory I will with God’s help make every necessary provision.” This speech filled the troops with such zeal and confidence, that they presented all the appearance of men whose enemies are in full view, and who are on the very point of closing with them.
[11.32] Scipio then dismissed the assembly, but on the next day got his troops on the march, and having reached the Ebro in ten days and crossed it, on the fourth day after that pitched his camp near that of the enemy, with a valley between his own and the enemy’s lines. Next day he turned some cattle that had accompanied his army into this valley, after giving Caius Laelius instructions to have the cavalry ready, and some of the tribunes to prepare the velites. The Iberians having at once made an onslaught upon the cattle, he despatched some of the velites against them. These two forces became engaged, and reinforcements being sent to either party from time to time, a severe infantry skirmishing took place in the valley. The proper moment for attack being now come, Caius Laelius, having the cavalry prepared as directed, charged the skirmishers of the enemy, getting between them and the high ground, so that the greater number of them were scattered about the valley and killed by the cavalry. This event roused the barbarians to a furious desire to engage, that they might not appear to be entirely reduced to despair by their previous defeat; and accordingly by daybreak next day they drew out their whole army for battle. Scipio was quite ready to give them battle; but when he saw that the Iberians had come down into the valley in an imprudent manner, and were stationing, not only their cavalry, but their infantry also on the level ground, he waited for a time, because he wished as many of the enemy as possible to take up a position like that. He felt confidence in his cavalry, and still more in his infantry; because, in such deliberate and hand-to-hand battles as this, his men were vastly superior to the Iberians both in themselves and in their arms.
[11.33] When he thought the right time had come he drew out [the velites]³⁷ to oppose those of the enemy who occupied the foot of the hills; while against those who had descended into the valley he led his main force from the camp in four cohorts, and attacked the infantry. Caius Laelius at the same time made a detour with the cavalry by the hills, which stretched from the camp to the valley, and charged the enemy’s horse on the rear; and so kept them occupied with fighting him. The enemy’s infantry therefore, being thus deprived of the support of the cavalry, on which they had relied in descending into the valley, were distressed and overmatched in the battle; while their cavalry was in much the same plight: for, being surprised on ground of insufficient extent, they fell into confusion, and lost more men by hurting each other than by the hands of the enemy; for their own infantry was pressing upon their flank, and the enemy’s infantry on their front, while his cavalry were attacking on their rear. The battle having taken this course, the result was that nearly all those who had descended into the valley lost their lives; while those who had been stationed on the foot of the hills managed to escape. These last were the light-armed troops, and formed about a third of the whole army: with whom Andobales himself contrived to make good his escape to a certain stronghold of great security. . . .
[11.33] By further operations in this year, B. C. 206, Scipio had compelled Mago to abandon Spain: and towards the winter the Roman army went into winter-quarters at Tarraco.
[11.33] Having thus put a finishing stroke to his campaigns in Iberia, Scipio arrived at Tarraco in high spirits, bringing with him the materials of a brilliant triumph for himself, and a glorious victory for his country. But being anxious to arrive in Rome before the consular elections, he arranged for the government of Iberia,³⁸ and, having put the army into the hands of Junius Silanus and L. Marcius, embarked with Caius Laelius and his other friends for Rome. . . .
[11.34] Antiochus in Bactria. See 10, 48, 49
[11.34] Euthydemus was himself a Magnesian, and he answered the envoy by saying that “Antiochus was acting unjustly in trying to expel him from his kingdom. He was not himself a revolted subject, but had destroyed the descendant of some who had been such, and so had obtained the kingdom of Bactria.” After adding more arguments to the same effect, he urged Teleas to act as a sincere mediator of peace, by urging Antiochus not to grudge him the royal title and dignity, “for if he did not yield to this demand, neither of them would be safe: seeing that great hords of Nomads were close at hand, who were a danger to both; and that if they admitted them into the country, it would certainly be utterly barbarised.” With these words he sent Teleas back to Antiochus. The king had long been looking about for some means of ending the controversy; and when he was informed by Teleas of what Euthydemus had said, he readily admitted these pleas for a pacification. And after several journeys of Teleas to and fro between the two, Euthydemus at last sent his son Demetrius to confirm the terms of the treaty. Antiochus received the young prince; and judging from his appearance, conversation, and the dignity of his manners that he was worthy of royal power, he first promised to give him one of his own daughters, and secondly conceded the royal title to his father. And having on the other points caused a written treaty to be drawn up, and the terms of the treaty to be confirmed on oath, he marched away; after liberally provisioning his troops, and accepting the elephants belonging to Euthydemus. He crossed the Caucasus³⁹ and descended into India; renewed his friendship with Sophagasenus the king of the Indians; received more elephants, until he had a hundred and fifty altogether; and having once more provisioned his troops, set out again personally with his army: leaving Androsthenes of Cyzicus the duty of taking home the treasure which this king had agreed to hand over to him. Having traversed Arachosia and crossed the river Enymanthus, he came through Drangene to Carmania; and, as it was now winter, he put his men into winter quarters there. This was the extreme limit of the march of Antiochus into the interior: in which he not only reduced the up-country Satraps to obedience to his authority, but also the coast cities, and the princes on this side Taurus; and, in a word, consolidated his kingdom by overawing all his subjects with the exhibition of his boldness and energy. For this campaign convinced the Europeans as well as the Asiatics that he was worthy of royal power. . . .

## Book XII

[12.1] Byzacia is near the Syrtes; it has a circumference of two thousand stades, and is circular in shape. . . .
[12.1] Hippo, Singa, Tabraca, are cities in Libya. Chalkeia, however, is not, as Demosthenes ignorantly states, the name of a city, but means only a “bronze-factory.”. . .
[12.2] The lotus is not a large tree; but it is rough and thorny, and has a green leaf, like the rhamnus (black or white thorn), a little longer and broader. The fruit is like white myrtle-berries when they are come to perfection; but, as it grows, it becomes purple in colour, and in size about equal to round olives, and has a very small stone. When it is ripe they gather it: and some of it they pound up with groats of spelt, and store in vessels for their slaves; and the rest they also preserve for the free inhabitants, after taking out the stones, and use it for food. It tastes like a fig or a date, but is superior to them in aroma. A wine is made of it also by steeping it in water and crushing it, sweet and pleasant to the taste, like good mead; and they drink it without mixing it with water. It will not keep, however, more than ten days, and they therefore only make it in small quantities as they want it. Vinegar also is made out of it. . . .
[12.3] The excellence of the soil of Libya must excite our admiration. But one would feel inclined to say of Timaeus, not merely that he had never studied the country, but that he was childish and entirely unintelligent in his notions; completely enslaved to those old traditional stories of Libya being wholly sandy, parched, and barren. The same too holds good about its animals. The supply of horses, oxen, sheep, and goats in it is beyond anything to be found in any other part of the world; because many of the tribes in Libya do not use cultivated crops, but live on and with their flocks and herds. Again what writer has failed to mention the vast number and strength of its elephants, lions, and panthers, or the beauty of its buffalos, or the size of its ostriches? Of these not one is to be found in Europe, while Libya is full of them. But Timaeus, by passing them over without a word, gives, as though purposely, an impression exactly the reverse of the truth.
[12.3] And just in the same random way in which he has spoken about Libya, he has also done about the island called Cyrnus. For, when mentioning it in his second book, he says that wild goats, sheep, wild oxen, stags, hares, wolves, and some other animals are plentiful in it; and that the inhabitants employ themselves in hunting them, and in fact spend most of their time in that pursuit. Whereas in this island there are not only no wild goats or wild oxen, but not even hare, wolf, or stag, or any animal of the sort, except some foxes, rabbits, and wild sheep. The rabbit indeed at a distance looks like a small hare; but when taken in the hand, it is found to be widely different both in appearance and in the taste of its flesh; and it also lives generally underground.
[12.4] The idea, however, of all the animals in the island being wild, has arisen in the following way: The caretakers cannot keep up with their animals, owing to the thick woods and rocky broken nature of the country; but, whenever they wish to collect them, they stand on some convenient spots and call the beasts together by the sound of a trumpet; and all of them flock without fail to their own trumpets. Now, when ships arrive at the coast, and the sailors see goats or cattle grazing without any one with them, and thereupon try to catch them, the animals will not let them come near them, because they are not used to them, but will scamper off. But as soon as the keeper sees the men disembarking and sounds his trumpet, they all set off running at full speed and collect round the trumpet. This gives the appearance of wildness; and Timaeus, who made only careless and perfunctory inquiries, committed himself to a random statement.
[12.4] Now this obedience to the sound of a trumpet is nothing astonishing. For in Italy the swineherds manage the feeding of their pigs in the same way. They do not follow close behind the beasts, as in Greece, but keep some distance in front of them, sounding their horn every now and then; and the animals follow behind and run together at the sound. Indeed, the complete familiarity which the animals show with the particular horn to which they belong seems at first astonishing and almost incredible. For owing to the populousness and wealth of the country, the droves of swine in Italy are exceedingly large, especially along the sea coast of the Tuscans and Gauls: for one sow will bring up a thousand pigs, or sometimes even more. They therefore drive them out from their night styes to feed, according to their litters and ages. Whence, if several droves are taken to the same place, they cannot preserve these distinction of litters; but they of course get mixed up with each other, both as they are being driven out, and as they feed, and as they are being brought home. Accordingly the device of the horn-blowing has been invented to separate them, when they have got mixed up together, without labour or trouble. For as they feed, one swineherd goes in one direction sounding his horn, and another in another: and thus the animals sort themselves of their own accord, and follow their own horns with such eagerness that it is impossible by any means to stop or hinder them. But in Greece, when the swine get mixed up in the oak forests in their search for the mast, the swineherd who has most assistants and the best help at his disposal, when collecting his own animals, drives off his neighbour’s also. Sometimes too a thief lies in wait, and drives them off without the swineherd knowing how he lost them; because the beasts straggle a long way from their drivers, in their eagerness to find acorns, when they are just beginning to fall. . . .
[12.4a] It is difficult to pardon such errors in Timaeus, considering how severe he is in criticising the slips of others. For instance he finds fault with Theopompus for stating that Dionysius sailed from Sicily to Corinth in a merchant vessel, whereas he really arrived in a ship of war. And again he falsely charges Ephorus with contradicting himself, on the ground that he asserts that Dionysius the Elder ascended the throne at the age of twenty-three, reigned forty-two years, and died at sixty-three. Now no one would say, I think, that this was a blunder of the historian, but clearly one of the transcriber. For either Ephorus must be more foolish than Coroebus and Margites, if he were unable to calculate that forty-two added to twenty-three make sixty-five; or, if that is incredible in the case of a man like Ephorus, it must be a mere mistake of the transcriber, and the carping and malevolent criticism of Timaeus must be rejected.
[12.4b] Again, in his history of Pyrrhus, he says that the Romans still keep up the memory of the fall of Troy by shooting to death with javelins a war-horse on a certain fixed day, because the capture of Troy was accomplished by means of the “Wooden Horse.” This is quite childish. On this principle, all non-Hellenic nations must be put down as descendants of the Trojans; for nearly all of them, or at any rate the majority, when about to commence a war or a serious battle with an enemy, first kill and sacrifice a horse. In making this sort of ill-founded deduction, Timaeus seems to me to show not only want of knowledge, but, what is worse, a trick of misapplying knowledge. For, because the Romans sacrifice a horse, he immediately concludes that they do it because Troy was taken by means of a horse.
[12.4c] These instances clearly show how worthless his account of Libya, Sardinia, and, above all, of Italy is; and that, speaking generally, he has entirely neglected the most important element in historical investigation, namely, the making personal inquiries. For as historical events take place in many different localities, and as it is impossible for the same man to be in several places at the same time, and also impossible for him to see with his own eyes all places in the world and observe their peculiarities, the only resource left is to ask questions of as many people as possible; and to believe those who are worthy of credit; and to show critical sagacity in judging of their reports.
[12.4d] And though Timaeus makes great professions on this head, he appears to me to be very far from arriving at the truth. Indeed, so far from making accurate investigations of the truth through other people, he does not tell us anything trustworthy even of events of which he has been an eye-witness, or of places he has personally visited. This will be made evident, if we can convict him of being ignorant, even in his account of Sicily, of the facts which he brings forward. For it will require very little further proof of his inaccuracy, if he can be shown to be ill-informed and misled about the localities in which he was born and bred, and that too the most famous of them. Now he asserts that the fountain Arethusa at Syracuse has its source in the Peloponnese, from the river Alpheus, which flows through Arcadia and Olympia. For that this river sinks into the earth, and, after being carried for four thousand stades under the Sicilian Sea, comes to the surface again in Syracuse; and that this was proved from the fact that on a certain occasion a storm of rain having come on during the Olympic festival, and the river having flooded the sacred enclosure, a quantity of dung from the animals used for sacrifice at the festival was thrown up by the fountain Arethusa; as well as a certain gold cup, which was picked up and recognised as being one of the ornaments used at the festival. . . .
[12.5] I happened to have visited the city of the Locrians on several occasions, and to have been the means of doing them important services. For it was I that secured their exemption from the service in Iberia and Dalmatia, which, in accordance with the treaty, they were bound to supply to the Romans. And being released thereby from considerable hardship, danger, and expense, they rewarded me with every mark of honour and kindness. I have therefore reason to speak well of the Locrians rather than the reverse. Still I do not shrink from saying and writing that the account of their colonisation given by Aristotle is truer than that of Timaeus. For I know for certain that the inhabitants themselves acknowledge that the report of Aristotle, and not of Timaeus, is the one which they have received from their ancestors. And they give the following proofs of this. In the first place, they stated that every ancestral distinction existing among them is traced by the female not the male side.⁴⁰ For instance, those are reckoned noble among them who belong to “the hundred families”; and these “hundred families” are those which were marked out by the Locrians, before embarking upon their colonisation, as those from which they were in accordance with the oracle to select the virgins to be sent to Ilium. Further, that some of these women joined the colony: and that it is their descendants who are now reckoned noble, and called “the men of the hundred families.” Again, the following account of the “cup-bearing” priestess had been received traditionally by them. When they ejected the Sicels who occupied this part of Italy, finding that it was a custom among them for the processions at their sacrifices to be led by a boy of the most illustrious and high-born family obtainable, and not having any ancestral custom of their own on the subject, they adopted this one, with no other improvement than that of substituting a girl for one of their boys as cupbearer, because nobility with them went by the female line.
[12.6] And as to a treaty, none ever existed, or was said to have existed, between them and the Locrians in Greece; but they all knew by tradition of one with the Sicels: of which they give the following account. When they first appeared, and found the Sicels occupying the district in which they are themselves now dwelling, these natives were in terror of them, and admitted them through fear into the country; and the new-comers made a sworn agreement with them that “they would be friendly and share the country with them, as long as they stood upon the ground they then stood upon, and kept heads upon their shoulders.” But, while the oaths were being taken, they say that the Locrians put earth inside the soles of their shoes, and heads of garlic concealed on their shoulders, before they swore; and that then they shook the earth out of their shoes, and threw the heads of garlic off their shoulders, and soon afterwards expelled the Sicels from the country. This is the story current at Locri. . . .
[12.6] By an extraordinary oversight Timaeus of Tauromenium commits himself to the statement that it was not customary with the Greeks to possess slaves.⁴¹ . . .
[12.6] These considerations would lead us to trust Aristotle rather than Timaeus. His next statement is still more strange. For to suppose, with Timaeus, that it was unlikely that men, who had been the slaves of the allies of the Lacedaemonians, would continue the kindly feelings and adopt the friendships of their late masters is foolish. For when they have had the good fortune to recover their freedom, and a certain time has elapsed, men, who have been slaves, not only endeavour to adopt the friendships of their late masters, but also their ties of hospitality and blood: in fact, their aim is to keep them up even more than the ties of nature, for the express purpose of thereby wiping out the remembrance of their former degradation and humble position; because they wish to pose as the descendants of their masters rather than as their freedmen. And this is what in all probability happened in the case of the Locrians. They had removed to a great distance from all who knew their secret; the lapse of time favoured their pretensions; and they were not therefore so foolish as to maintain any customs likely to revive the memory of their own degradation, rather than such as would contribute to conceal it. Therefore they very naturally called their city by the name of that from which the women came; and claimed a relationship with those women: and, moreover, renewed the friendships which were ancestral to the families of the women.
[12.6] And this also indicates that there is no sign of Aristotle being wrong in saying that the Athenians ravaged their territory. For it being quite natural, as I have shown, that the men who started from Locri and landed in Italy, if they were slaves ten times over, should adopt friendly relations with Sparta, it becomes also natural that the Athenians should be rendered hostile to them, not so much from regard to their origin as to their policy.
[12.6] It is not, again, likely that the Lacedaemonians should themselves send their young men home from the camp for the sake of begetting children, and should refuse to allow the Locrians to do the same. Two things in such a statement are not only improbable but untrue. In the first place, they were not likely to have prevented the Locrians doing so, when they did the same themselves, for that would be wholly inconsistent: nor were the Locrians, in obedience to orders from them, likely to have adopted a custom like theirs. (For in Sparta it is a traditional law, and a matter of common custom, for three or four men to have one wife, and even more if they are brothers; and when a man has begotten enough children, it is quite proper and usual for him to sell his wife to one of his friends.) The fact is, that though the Locrians, not being bound by the same oath as the Lacedaemonians, that they would not return home till they had taken Messene, had a fair pretext for not taking part in the common expedition; yet, by returning home only one by one, and at rare intervals, they gave their wives an opportunity of becoming familiar with the slaves instead of their original husbands, and still more so the unmarried women. And this was the reason of the migration. . . .
[12.7] Timaeus makes many untrue statements; and he appears to have done so, not from ignorance, but because his view was distorted by party spirit. When once he has made up his mind to blame or praise, he forgets everything else and outsteps all bounds of propriety. So much for the nature of Aristotle’s account of Locri, and the grounds on which it rested. But this naturally leads me to speak of Timaeus and his work as a whole, and generally of what is the duty of a man who undertakes to write history. Now I think that I have made it clear from what I have said, first, that both of them were writing conjecturally; and, secondly, that the balance of probability was on the side of Aristotle. It is in fact impossible in such matters to be positive and definite. But let us even admit that Timaeus gives the more probable account. Are the maintainers of the less probable theory, therefore, to be called by every possible term of abuse and obloquy, and all but be put on trial for their lives? Certainly not. Those who make untrue statements in their books from ignorance ought, I maintain, to be forgiven and corrected in a kindly spirit: it is only those who do so from deliberate intention that ought to be attacked without mercy.
[12.8] It must then either be shown that Aristotle’s account of Locri was prompted by partiality, corruption, or personal enmity; or, if no one ventures to say that, then it must be acknowledged that those who display such personal animosity and bitterness to others, as Timaeus does to Aristotle, are wrong and ill advised.
[12.8] The epithets which he applies to him are “audacious,” “unprincipled,” “rash”; and besides, he says that he “has audaciously slandered Locri by affirming that the colony was formed by runaway slaves, adulterers, and man-catchers.” Further, he asserts that Aristotle made this statement, “in order that men might believe him to have been one of Alexander’s generals, and to have lately conquered the Persians at the Cilician Gates in a pitched battle by his own ability; and not to be a mere pedantic sophist, universally unpopular, who had a short time before shut up that admirable doctor’s shop.” Again, he says that he “pushed his way into every palace and tent:” and that he was “a glutton and a gourmand, who thought only of gratifying his appetite.” Now it seems to me that such language as this would be intolerable in an impudent vagabond bandying abuse in a law court; but an impartial recorder of public affairs, and a genuine historian, would not think such things to himself, much less venture to put them in writing.
[12.9] Let us now, then, examine the method of Timaeus, and compare his account of this colony, that we may learn which of the two better deserves such vituperation. He says in the same book: “I am not now proceeding on conjecture, but have investigated the truth in the course of a personal visit to the Locrians in Greece. The Locrians first of all showed me a written treaty which began with the words, ‘as parents to children.’ There are also existing decrees securing mutual rights of citizenship to both. In fine, when they were told of Aristotle’s account of the colony, they were astonished at the audacity of that writer. I then crossed to the Italian Locri and found that the laws and customs there accorded with the theory of a colony of free men, not with the licentiousness of slaves. For among them there are penalties assigned to man-catchers, adulterers, and runaway slaves. And this would not have been the case if they were conscious of having been such themselves.”
[12.10] Now the first point one would be inclined to raise is, as to what Locrians he visited and questioned on these subjects. If it had been the case that the Locrians in Greece all lived in one city, as those in Italy do, this question would perhaps have been unnecessary, and everything would have been plain. But as there are two clans of Locrians, we may ask, Which of the two did he visit? What cities of the one or the other? In whose hands did he find the treaty? Yet we all know, I suppose, that this is a speciality of Timaeus’s, and that it is in this that he has surpassed all other historians, and rests his chief claim to credit,—I mean his parade of accuracy in studying chronology and ancient monuments, and his care in that department of research. Therefore we may well wonder how he came to omit telling us the name of the city in which he found the treaty, the place in which it was inscribed, or the magistrates who showed him the inscription, and with whom he conversed: to prevent all cavil, and, by defining the place and city, to enable those who doubted to ascertain the truth. By omitting these details he shows that he was conscious of having told a deliberate falsehood. For that Timaeus, if he really had obtained such proofs, would not have let them slip, but would have fastened upon them with both hands, as the saying is, is proved by the following considerations. Would a writer who tried to establish his credit on that of Echecrates,—he mentioning him by name as the person with whom he had conversed, and from whom he had obtained his facts about the Italian Locri,—taking the trouble to add, by way of showing that he had been told them by no ordinary person, that this man’s father had formerly been entrusted with an embassy by Dionysius,—would such a writer have remained silent about it if he had really got hold of a public record or an ancient tablet?
[12.11] This is the man forsooth who drew out a comparative list of the Ephors and the kings of Sparta from the earliest times; as well as one comparing the Archons at Athens and priestesses in Argos with the list of Olympic victors, and thereby convicted those cities of being in error about those records, because there was a discrepancy of three months between them! This again is the man who discovered the engraved tablets in the inner shrines, and the records of the guest-friendships on the door-posts of the temples. And we cannot believe that such a man could have been ignorant of anything of this sort that existed, or would have omitted to mention it if he had found it. Nor can he on any ground expect pardon, if he has told an untruth about it: for, as he has shown himself a bitter and uncompromising critic of others, he must naturally look for equally uncompromising attacks from them.
[12.11] Being then clearly convicted of falsehood in these points, he goes to the Italian Locri: and, first of all, says that the two Locrian peoples had a similar constitution and the same ties of amity, and that Aristotle and Theophrastus have maligned the city. Now I am fully aware that in going into minute particulars and proofs on this point I shall be forced to digress from the course of my history. It was for that reason however that I postponed my criticism of Timaeus to a single section of my work, that I might not be forced again and again to omit other necessary matter. . . .
[12.12] Timaeus says that the greatest fault in history is want of truth; and he accordingly advises all, whom he may have convicted of making false statements in their writings, to find some other name for their books, and to call them anything they like except history. . . .
[12.12] For example, in the case of a carpenter’s rule, though it may be too short or too narrow for your purpose, yet if it have the essential feature of a rule, that of straightness, you may still call it a rule; but if it has not this quality, and deviates from the straight line, you may call it anything you like except a rule. “On the same principle,” says he, “historical writings may fail in style or treatment or other details; yet if they hold fast to truth, such books may claim the title of history, but if they swerve from that, they ought no longer to be called history.” Well, I quite agree that in such writings truth should be the first consideration: and, in fact, somewhere in the course of my work I have said “that as in a living body, when the eyes are out, the whole is rendered useless, so if you take truth from history what is left is but an idle tale.” I said again, however, that “there were two sorts of falsehoods, the ignorant and the intentional; and the former deserved indulgence, the latter uncompromising severity.” . . . These points being agreed upon—the wide difference between the ignorant and intentional lie, and the kindly correction due to the one and the unbending denunciation to the other—it will be found that it is to the latter charge that Timaeus more than any one lays himself open. And the proof of his character in this respect is clear. . . .
[12.12] There is a proverbial expression for the breakers of an agreement, “Locrians and a treaty.” An explanation given of this, equally accepted by historians and the rest of the world, is that, at the time of the invasion of the Heracleidae, the Locrians agreed with the Peloponnesians that, if the Heracleidae did not enter by way of the isthmus, but crossed at Rhium, they would raise a war beacon, that they might have early intelligence and make provisions to oppose their entrance. The Locrians, however, did not do this, but, on the contrary, raised a beacon of peace; and therefore, when the Heracleidae arrived opposite Rhium, they crossed without resistance; while the Peloponnesians, having taken no precautions, found that they had allowed their enemies to enter their country, because they had been betrayed by the Locrians. . . .
[12.12] Many remarks depreciatory of divination and dream interpretation may be found in his writings.⁴² But writers who have introduced into their books a good deal of such foolish talk, so far from running down others, should think themselves fortunate if they escape attack themselves. And this is just the position in which Timaeus stands. He remarks that “Callisthenes was a mere sycophant for writing stuff of this sort; and acted in a manner utterly unworthy of his philosophy in giving heed to ravens and inspired women; and that he richly deserved the punishment which he met with at the hands of Alexander, for having corrupted the mind of that monarch as far as he could.” On the other hand, he commends Demosthenes, and the other orators who flourished at that time, and says that “they were worthy of Greece for speaking against the divine honours given to Alexander; while this philosopher, for investing a mere mortal with the aegis and thunderbolt, justly met the fate which befel him from the hands of providence. . . .”
[12.13] Timaeus asserts that Demochares was guilty of unnatural lust, and that his lips therefore were unfit to blow the sacred fire; and that in morals he went beyond any stories told by Botrys and Philaenis and all other writers of indecent tales. Foul abuse and shameless accusations of this sort are not only what no man of cultivation would have uttered, they go beyond what you might expect from the lowest brothels. It is, however, to get credit for the foul and shameless accusations, which he is always bringing, that he has maligned this man: supporting his charge by dragging in an obscure comic poet. Now on what grounds do I conjecture the falsity of the accusation? Well, first, from the fact of the good birth and education of Demochares; for he was a nephew of Demosthenes. And in the second place, from the fact that he was thought worthy at Athens, not only of being a general, but of the other offices also; which he certainly would not have obtained, if he had got into such troubles as these. Therefore it seems to me that Timaeus is accusing the people of Athens more than Demochares, if it is the fact that they committed the interests of the country and their own lives to such a man. For if it had been true, the comic poet Archedicus would not have been the only one to have made this statement concerning Demochares, as Timaeus alleges: it would have been repeated by many of the partisans of Antipater, against whom he has spoken with great freedom, and said many things calculated to annoy, not only Antipater himself, but also his successors and friends. It would have been repeated also by many of his political opponents: and among them, by Demetrius of Phalerum, against whom Demochares has inveighed with extraordinary bitterness in his History, alleging that “his conduct as a prince, and the political measures on which he prided himself, were such as a petty tax-gatherer might be proud of; for he boasted that in his city things were abundant and cheap, and every one had plenty to live upon.” And he tells another story of Demetrius, that “He was not ashamed to have a procession in the theatre led by an artificial snail, worked by some internal contrivance, and emitting slime as it crawled, and behind it a string of asses; meaning by this to indicate the slowness and stupidity of the Athenians, who had yielded to others the honour of defending Greece, and were tamely submissive to Cassander.” Still, in spite of these taunts, neither Demetrius nor any one else has ever brought such a charge against Demochares.
[12.14] Relying therefore on the testimony of his own countrymen, as safer ground than the virulence of Timaeus, I feel no hesitation in declaring that the life of Demochares is not chargeable with such enormities. But even supposing that Demochares had ever so disgraced himself, what need was there for Timaeus to insert this passage in his History? Men of sense, when resolved to retaliate upon a personal enemy, think first, not of what he deserves, but of what it is becoming in them to do. So in the case of abusive language: the first consideration should be, not what our enemies deserve to be called, but what our self respect will allow us to call them. But if men measure everything by their own ill temper and jealousy, we are forced to be always suspicious of them, and to be ever on our guard against their exaggeration. Wherefore, in the present instance, we may fairly reject the stories to the discredit of Philochares told by Timaeus; for he has put himself out of the pale of indulgence or belief, by so obviously allowing his native virulence to carry him beyond all bounds of propriety in his invectives.
[12.15] For my part I cannot feel satisfied with his abuse of Agathocles either, even admitting him to have been the worst of men. I refer to the passage at the end of his History in which he asserts that in his youth Agathocles was “a common stale, extravagantly addicted to every unnatural vice,” and that “when he died, his wife in the course of her lamentations exclaimed ‘Ah, what have I not done for you! what have you not done to me?’” To such language one can only repeat what has been already said in the case of Demochares, and express one’s astonishment at such extravagant virulence. For that Agathocles must have had fine natural qualities is evident from the narrative of Timaeus itself. That a man who came as a runaway slave to Syracuse, from the potter’s wheel and smoke and clay, at the early age of eighteen, should have within a short time advanced from that humble beginning to be master of all Sicily, and after being a terror to the Carthaginians, should have grown old in office and died in enjoyment of the royal title,—does not this prove that Agathocles had some great and admirable qualities, and many endowments and talents for administration? In view of these the historian ought not to have recounted to posterity only what served to discredit and defame this man, but those facts also which were to his honour. For that is the proper function of history. Blinded, however, by personal malignity, he has recorded for us with bitterness and exaggeration all his defects; while his eminent achievements he has passed over in entire silence: seeming not to be aware that in history such silence is as mendacious as misstatement. The part of his history, therefore, which was added by him for the gratification of his personal spite I have passed over, but not what was really germane to his subject. . . .
[12.16] Two young men had a dispute about the ownership of a slave. This slave had been in the possession of one of them for a long time; but two days before, as he was going to the farm without his master, the other laid violent hands upon him and dragged him to his house. When the first young man heard of this, he came to the house, seized the slave, and taking him before the magistrate asserted his ownership and offered sureties. For the law of Zaleucus ordained that the party from whom the abduction was made should have possession of the property in dispute, pending the decision of the suit. But the other man in accordance with the same law, alleged that he was the party from whom the abduction had been made, for the slave had been brought before the magistrate from his house. The magistrates who were trying the case were in doubt, and calling in the Cosmopolis⁴³ referred the point to him. He interpreted the law as meaning that “the abduction was always from that party in whose possession the property in dispute had last been for a certain period unquestioned; but that if another abducted this property from a holder, and then the original holder repossessed himself of it from the abductor, this was not abduction in the sense of the law.” The young man, who thus lost his case, was not satisfied, and alleged that such was not the intention of the legislator. Thereupon the Cosmopolis summoned him to discuss the interpretation in accordance with the law of Zaleucus; that is, to argue on the interpretation of the law with him before the court of the one thousand, and with a halter round the neck of each: whichever should be shown to be wrong in his interpretation was to lose his life in the sight of the thousand. But the young man asserted that the compact was not a fair one, for the Cosmopolis, who happened to be nearly ninety, had only two or three years of life left, while in all reasonable probability he had not yet lived half his life. By this adroit rejoinder the young man turned off the affair as a jest: but the magistrates adjudged the question of abduction in accordance with the interpretation of the Cosmopolis. . . .
[12.17] That I may not be thought to detract wantonly from the credit of such great writers, I will mention one battle, which is at once one of the most famous ever fought, and not too remote in point of time; and at which, above everything else, Callisthenes was himself present. I mean the battle between Alexander and Darius in Cilicia. He says that “Alexander had already got through the pass called the Cilician Gates: and that Darius, availing himself of that by the Amanid Gates, made his way with his army into Cilicia; but on learning from the natives that Alexander was on his way into Syria, he followed him; and having arrived at the pass leading to the south, pitched his camp on the bank of the river Pinarus. The width of the ground from the foot of the mountain to the sea was not more than fourteen stades, through which this river ran diagonally. On first issuing from the mountains its banks were broken, but in its course through the level down to the sea it ran between precipitous and steep hills.” Starting with this description of the ground, he goes on to say that “When Alexander’s army faced about, and, retracing its steps, was approaching to attack them, Darius and his officers determined to draw up their whole phalanx on the ground occupied by his encampment, as it then was, and to defend his front by the river, which flowed right along his camp.” But he afterwards says that Darius “stationed his cavalry close to the sea, his mercenaries next along the river, and his peltasts next resting on the mountains.”
[12.18] Now it is difficult to understand how he could have drawn up these troops in front of his phalanx, considering that the river ran immediately under the camp:⁴⁴ especially as their numbers were so great, amounting, on Callisthenes’s own showing, to thirty thousand cavalry and thirty thousand mercenaries. Now it is easy to calculate how much ground such a force would require. At the most cavalry in a regular engagement is drawn up eight deep, and between each squadron a clear space must be left in the line to enable them to turn or face about. Therefore eight hundred will cover a stade of front; eight thousand, ten stades;⁴⁵ three thousand two hundred, four stades; and so eleven thousand two hundred would cover the whole of fourteen stades. If therefore he were to put his whole thirty thousand on the ground, he would have to mass his cavalry alone nearly three times the usual depth; and then what room is left for his large force of mercenaries? None, indeed, unless on the rear of the cavalry. But Callisthenes says this was not the case, but that these latter engaged the Macedonians first. We must therefore understand half the front, that nearest the sea, to have been occupied by the cavalry; the other half, that nearest the mountains, by the mercenaries. We may by these data easily calculate the depth of the cavalry, and the distance the river must have been from the camp to allow of it.
[12.18] Again, he says that “on the approach of the enemy Darius himself, who was on the centre, ordered up the mercenaries from the wing.” It is difficult to see what he means by this: for the point of junction of the mercenaries and the cavalry must have been at the centre. Where and how then, and to what point could Darius, who was himself actually among the mercenaries, be said to “order them up”?
[12.18] Lastly, he says that “the cavalry on the right wing charged Alexander; and that his men stood the charge gallantly, and, making a counter charge, kept up an obstinate fight.” But he quite forgets that there was a river between them, a river, too, of the nature that he had just himself described.⁴⁶
[12.19] His account of the movements of Alexander are equally vague. He says that “he crossed into Asia with forty thousand infantry and four thousand five hundred cavalry; but that when he was about to enter Cilicia he was joined by a reinforcement of five thousand infantry and eight hundred cavalry.” From these numbers, if one were to make the liberal allowance of three thousand absentees from the infantry and three hundred from the cavalry on various services, there would still remain forty-two thousand infantry and five thousand cavalry. Starting with these numbers, he goes on to say “that Alexander heard of the entrance of Darius into Cilicia when he was a hundred stades away from him, having already marched through the pass:⁴⁷ that he therefore retraced his steps through the pass, his phalanx on the van, his cavalry next, and his baggage on the rear. But that as soon as he had debouched upon the open country, he gave general orders to form up into a phalanx, at first thirty-two deep; then sixteen; and lastly, when they were nearing the enemy, eight deep.” Now this is a worse blunder than the last. A stade, allowing for the distances which must be kept on a march, and reckoning the depth at sixteen, admits of one thousand six hundred men, each man covering six feet. It is plain, therefore, that ten stades will admit of only sixteen thousand men, and twenty twice that number. Hence, when Alexander caused his men to form sixteen deep, he would have wanted a width of ground of twenty stades; and even then, the whole of the cavalry and ten thousand infantry would have been unaccounted for.
[12.20] Again, he says that Alexander was marching in line when he was about forty stades from the enemy. A greater blunder it is difficult to conceive. For where could one find a ground; and especially in Cilicia, twenty stades broad by forty deep, for a phalanx armed with sarissae to march in line? It would not be easy to count all the impossibilities in the way of such an arrangement and such a movement. One that is mentioned by Callisthenes himself is sufficient to establish the point. For he remarks that the winter torrents which descend from the hills make so many gullies in the plain, that, in the course of the flight, the chief part of the Persians are said to have lost their lives in deep places of that kind. But, it may be urged, Alexander wished to be ready for battle as soon as the enemy were in sight. But what could be less ready than a phalanx in a disordered and straggling line? Is it not much easier to form up a phalanx from a proper column of route, than to bring a disordered and straggling line back into the same alignment, and get it into order of battle on a broken and woody ground? It was, therefore much better to march twice or four times the ordinary depth of a phalanx⁴⁸ in good order, for which sufficient ground could possibly be found. And it was easy to deploy his men quickly into the line of the phalanx, because he was able by means of scouts to ascertain the presence of the enemy in plenty of time. But in this case, beside other absurdities, while bringing his men in line across the level, he did not even (we are told) put the cavalry in front, but marched with them in the same alignment.
[12.21] But the greatest blunder is still to come. “As soon as Alexander,” he says, “was within distance of the enemy he caused his men to take up order eight deep,” which would have necessitated ground forty stades wide for the length of the line; and even had they, to use the poet’s expression, “laid shield to shield and on each other leaned,” still ground twenty stades wide would have been wanted, while he himself says that it was less than fourteen. [We have also to deduct from these fourteen stades the space occupied by the two divisions of the cavalry, one on the left next the sea, the other on the right];⁴⁹ and to allow for the fact that the whole force was kept a considerable distance from the hills, to avoid being exposed to the enemy occupying the skirts of the mountains; for we know that Callisthenes represents the wing to have been facing these, at an angle with the centre. We are also leaving out of account the ten thousand foot, whom we showed to be too many according to his own calculation.
[12.21] The upshot is that eleven stades at most is left for the whole length of the phalanx, even taking Callisthenes’s own account, in which thirty-two thousand men standing shield to shield must necessarily be drawn up thirty deep: while he asserts that they fought eight deep. Such blunders admit of no defence: for the facts at once demonstrate the impossibility of the assertion. We have only to compare the space occupied by each man, the width of the whole ground, and the number of the men, to prove its falsity.
[12.22] It would be tedious to mention all his other absurdities in connexion with this battle. I must be content with a very few. He says, for instance, that “Alexander took care in arranging his order of battle to be himself personally opposed to Darius; and that at first Darius was equally anxious to be opposite Alexander, but afterwards altered his mind.” But he does not vouchsafe to tell us how these kings learnt at what part of their respective forces they were each posted, or to what point in his own line Darius re-transferred himself. Again, how could a phalanx mount to the edge of the river bank, when it was precipitous and covered with brushwood? Such a piece of bad generalship must not be attributed to Alexander, because he is acknowledged by all to have been a skilful strategist and to have studied the subject from childhood: we must rather attribute it to the historian’s want of ability to discern between what is or is not practicable in such movements. So much for Ephorus and Callisthenes. . . .
[12.23] Timaeus attacks Ephorus with great severity, though he is himself liable to two grave charges—bitterness in attacking others for faults of which he is himself guilty, and complete demoralisation, shown by the opinions which he expresses in his memoirs, and which he endeavours to implant in the minds of his readers. If we are to lay it down that Callisthenes deserved his death, what ought to happen to Timaeus? Surely there is much more reason for Providence to be wroth with him than with Callisthenes. The latter wished to deify Alexander; but Timaeus exalts Timoleon above the most venerable gods. The hero of Callisthenes, again, was a man by universal consent of a superhuman elevation of spirit; while Timoleon, far from having accomplished any action of first-rate importance, never even undertook one. The one expedition which he achieved in the course of his life took him no farther than from Corinth to Syracuse; and how paltry is such a distance when compared with the extent of the world! I presume that Timaeus believed that if Timoleon, by gaining glory in such a mere saucer of a place as Sicily, should be thought comparable to the most illustrious heroes, he too himself, as the historian of only Italy and Sicily, might properly be considered on a par with the writers of universal history. This will be sufficient defence of Aristotle, Theophrastus, Callisthenes, Ephorus, and Demochares against the attacks of Timaeus: and it is addressed to those who believe that this historian is impartial and truthful. . . .
[12.24] We may fairly judge Timaeus on the principles which he has himself laid down. According to him, “poets and historians betray their own tastes by the incidents which they repeatedly record in their writings. Thus the poet⁵⁰ by his fondness for banqueting scenes shows that he is a glutton; and in the same way Aristotle, by frequently describing rich food in his writings, betrays his love of dainty living and his greediness.” On the same principle he judges Dionysius the tyrant because he “was always very particular in the ornamentation of his dining-couches, and had hangings of exquisite make and variegated colours.” If we apply this principle to Timaeus, we shall have abundant reason to think badly of him. In attacking others he shows great acuteness and boldness; when he comes to independent narrative he is full of dreams, miracles, incredible myths,—in a word, of miserable superstition and old wives’ tales. The truth is that Timaeus is a proof of the fact, that at times, and in the case of many men, want of skill and want of judgment so completely destroy the value of their evidence, that though present at and eye-witnesses of the facts which they record, they might just as well have been absent or had no eyes. . . .
[12.25] The story of the brazen bull is this. It was made by Phalaris at Agrigentum; and he used to force men to get into it, and then by way of punishment light a fire underneath. The metal becoming thus red hot, the man inside was roasted and scorched to death; and when he screamed in his agony, the sound from the machine was very like the bellowing of a bull. When the Carthaginians conquered Sicily this bull was removed from Agrigentum to Carthage. The trap door between the shoulders, through which the victims used to be let down, still remains; and no other reason for the construction of such a bull in Carthage can be discovered at all: yet Timaeus has undertaken to upset the common story, and to refute the declarations of poets and historians, by alleging that the bull at Carthage did not come from Agrigentum, and that no such figure ever existed there; and he has composed a lengthy treatise to prove this. . . .
[12.25] What epithet ought one to apply to Timaeus, and what word will properly characterise him? A man of his kind appears to me to deserve the very bitterest of the terms which he has applied to others. It has already been sufficiently proved that he is a carping, false and impudent writer; and from what remains to be said he will be shown to be unphilosophical, and, in short, utterly uninstructed. For towards the end of his twenty-first book, in the course of his “harangue of Timoleon,” he remarks that “the whole sublunary world being divided into three parts —Asia, Libya, and Europe. . . .”⁵¹ One could scarcely believe such a remark to have come, I don’t say from Timaeus, but even from the proverbial Margites. . . .
[12.25a] The proverb tells us that one drop from the largest vessel is sufficient to show the whole contents. This is applicable to the present case. When one or two false statements have been discovered in a history, and they have been shown to be wilful, it is clear that nothing which such an historian may say can be regarded as certain or trustworthy. But in order to convince the more careful student, I must speak on his method and practice in regard to public speeches, military harangues, ambassador’s orations, and all compositions of that class; which are, as it were, a compendium of events and an epitome of all history. Now that he has given these in his writings with entire disregard of truth, and that of set purpose, can any reader of Timaeus fail to be aware? He has not written down the words actually used, nor the real drift of these speeches; but imagining how they ought to have been expressed, he enumerates all the arguments used, and makes the words tally with the circumstances, like a schoolboy declaiming on a set theme: as though his object were to display his own ability, not to give a report of what was in reality said. . . .
[12.25b] The special province of history is, first, to ascertain what the actual words used were; and secondly, to learn why it was that a particular policy or argument failed or succeeded. For a bare statement of an occurrence is interesting indeed, but not instructive: but when this is supplemented by a statement of cause, the study of history becomes fruitful. For it is by applying analogies to our own circumstances that we get the means and basis for calculating the future; and for learning from the past when to act with caution, and when with greater boldness, in the present. The historian therefore who omits the words actually used, as well as all statement of the determining circumstances, and gives us instead conjectures and mere fancy compositions, destroys the special use of history. In this respect Timaeus is an eminent offender, for we all know that his books are full of such writing.
[12.25c] But perhaps some one may raise the question as to how it comes about that, being the sort of writer that I am showing him to be, he has obtained acceptance and credit among certain people. The reason is that his work abounds with hostile criticism and invective against others: and he has been judged, not by the positive merits of his own composition and his independent narrative, but by his skill in refuting his fellow historians; to which department he appears to me to have brought great diligence and an extraordinary natural aptitude. The case of the physicist Strato is almost precisely similar. As long as this man is endeavouring to discredit and refute the opinions of others, he is admirable: directly he brings forward anything of his own, or expounds any of his own doctrines, he at once seems to men of science to lose his faculties and become stupid and unintelligent. And for my part, I look upon this difference in writers as strictly analogous to the facts of everyday life. In this too it is easy to criticise our neighbours, but to be faultless ourselves is hard. One might almost say that those who are most ready at finding fault with others are most prone to errors in their own life.
[12.25d] Besides these I may mention another error of Timaeus. Having stayed quietly at Athens for about fifty years, during which he devoted himself to the study of written history, he imagined that he was in possession of the most important means of writing it. To my mind this was a great mistake. History and the science of medicine are alike in this respect, that both may be divided broadly into three departments; and therefore those who study either must approach them in three ways. For instance the three departments of medicine are the rhetorical, the dietetic, and the surgical and pharmaceutical. [The second of these though important is discredited by some.]⁵² The first, which takes its rise from the school of Herophilus and Callimachus of Alexandria, does indeed rightly claim a certain position in medical science; but by its speciousness and liberal promises acquires so much reputation that those who are occupied with other branches of the art are supposed to be completely ignorant. But just bring one of these professors to an actual invalid: you will find that they are as completely wanting in the necessary skill as men who have never read a medical treatise. Nay, it has happened before now that certain persons, who had really nothing serious the matter with them, have been persuaded by their powerful arguments to commit themselves to their treatment, and have thereby endangered their lives: for they are like men trying to steer a ship out of a book. Still such men go from city to city with great éclât, and get the common people together to listen to them. But if, when this is done, they induce certain people to submit as a specimen to their practical treatment; they only succeed in reducing them to a state of extreme discomfort, and making them a laughing stock to the audience.⁵³ So completely does a persuasive address frequently get the advantage over practical experience. The third branch of the medical science, though it involves genuine skill in the treatment of the several cases, is not only rare in itself, but is also frequently cast into the shade, thanks to the folly of popular judgment, by volubility and impudence.
[12.25e] In the same way the science of genuine history is threefold: first, the dealing with written documents and the arrangement of the material thus obtained; second, topography, the appearance of cities and localities, the description of rivers and harbours, and, speaking generally, the peculiar features of seas and countries and their relative distances; thirdly, political affairs. Now, as in the case of medicine, it is the last branch that many attach themselves to, owing to their preconceived opinions on the subject. And the majority of writers bring to the undertaking no spirit of fairness at all: nothing but dishonesty, impudence and unscrupulousness. Like vendors of drugs, their aim is to catch popular credit and favour, and to seize every opportunity of enriching themselves. About such writers it is not worth while to say more.
[12.25f] But some of those who have the reputation of approaching history in a reasonable spirit are like the theoretical physicians. They spend all their time in libraries, and acquire generally all the learning which can be got from books, and then persuade themselves that they are adequately equipped for their task. . . . Yet in my opinion they are only partially qualified for the production of genuine history. To inspect ancient records indeed, with the view of ascertaining the notions entertained by the ancients of certain places, nations, polities and events, and of understanding the several circumstances and contingencies experienced in former times, is useful; for the history of the past directs our attention in a proper spirit to the future, if a writer can be found to give a statement of facts as they really occurred. But to persuade one’s self, as Timaeus does, that such ability in research is sufficient to enable a man to describe subsequent transactions with success is quite foolish. It is as though a man were to imagine that an inspection of the works of the old masters would enable him to become a painter and a master of the art himself.
[12.25f] This will be rendered still more evident from what I have now to say, particularly from certain passages in the history of Ephorus. This writer in his history of war seems to me to have had some idea of naval tactics, but to be quite unacquainted with fighting on shore. Accordingly, if one turns one’s attention to the naval battles at Cyprus and Cnidus, in which the generals of the king were engaged against Evagoras of Salamis⁵⁴ and then against the Lacedaemonians, one will be struck with admiration of the historian, and will learn many useful lessons as to what to do in similar circumstances. But when he tells the story of the battle of Leuctra between the Thebans and Lacedaemonians, or again that of Mantinea between the same combatants, in which Epaminondas lost his life, if in these one examines attentively and in detail the arrangements and evolutions in the line of battle, the historian will appear quite ridiculous, and betray his entire ignorance and want of personal experience of such matters. The battle of Leuctra indeed was simple, and confined to one division of the forces engaged, and therefore does not make the writer’s lack of knowledge so very glaring: but that of Mantinea was complicated and technical, and is accordingly unintelligible, and indeed completely inconceivable, to the historian. This will be rendered clear by first laying down a correct plan of the ground, and then measuring the extent of the movements as described by him. The same is the case with Theopompus, and above all with Timaeus, the subject of this book. These latter writers also can conceal their ignorance, so long as they deal with generalities; but directly they attempt minute and detailed description, they show that they are no better than Ephorus. . . .
[12.25g] It is in fact as impossible to write well on the operations in a war, if a man has had no experience of actual service, as it is to write well on politics without having been engaged in political transactions and vicissitudes. And when history is written by the book-learned, without technical knowledge, and without clearness of detail, the work loses all its value. For if you take from history its element of practical instruction, what is left of it has nothing to attract and nothing to teach. Again, in the topography of cities and localities, when such men attempt to go into details, being entirely without personal knowledge, they must in a similar manner necessarily pass over many points of importance; while they waste words on many that are not worth the trouble. And this is what his failure to make personal inspection brings upon Timaeus. . . .
[12.25h] In his thirty-fourth book Timaeus says that “he spent fifty continuous years at Athens as an alien, and never took part in any military service, or went to inspect the localities.” Accordingly, when he comes upon any such matters in the course of his history, he shows much ignorance and makes many misstatements; and if he ever does come near the truth, he is like one of those animal-painters who draw from models of stuffed skins. Such artists sometimes preserve the correct outline, but the vivid look and life-like portraiture of the real animal, the chief charm of the painter’s art, are quite wanting. This is just the case with Timaeus, and in fact with all who start with mere book-learning; there is nothing vivid in their presentment of events, for that can only come from the personal experience of the writers. And hence it is, that those who have gone through no such course of actual experience produce no genuine enthusiasm in the minds of their readers. Former historians showed their sense of the necessity of making professions to this effect in their writings. For when their subject was political, they were careful to state that the writer had of course been engaged in politics, and had had experience in matters of the sort; or if the subject was military, that he had served a campaign and been actually engaged; and again, when the matter was one of everyday life, that he had brought up children and had been married; and so on in every department of life, which we may expect to find adequately treated by those writers alone who have had personal experience, and have accordingly made that branch of history their own. It is difficult perhaps for a man to have been actually and literally engaged in everything: but in the most important actions and most frequently occurring he must have been so.
[12.25i] And that this is no impossibility, Homer is a convincing instance; for in him you may see this quality of personal knowledge frequently and conspicuously displayed. The upshot of all this is that the study of documents is only one of three elements in the preparation of an historian, and is only third in importance. And no clearer proof of this could be given than that furnished by the deliberative speeches, harangues of commanders, and orations of ambassadors as recorded by Timaeus. For the truth is, that the occasions are rare which admit of all possible arguments being set forth; as a rule, the circumstances of the case confine them to narrow limits. And of such speeches one sort are regarded with favour by men of our time, another by those of an earlier age; different styles again are popular with Aetolians, Peloponnesians, and Athenians. But to make digressions, in season and out of season, for the purpose of setting forth every possible speech that could be made, as Timaeus does by his trick of inventing words to suit every sort of occasion, is utterly misleading, pedantic, and worthy of a schoolboy essayist. And this practice has brought failure and discredit on many writers. Of course to select from time to time the proper and appropriate language is a necessary part of our art: but as there is no fixed rule to decide the quantity and quality of the words to be used on a particular occasion, great care and training is required if we are to instruct and not mislead our readers. The exact nature of the situation is difficult to communicate always; still it may be brought home to the mind by means of systematic demonstration, founded on personal and habitual experience. The best way of securing that this should be realised is for historians, first, to state clearly the position, the aims, and the circumstances of those deliberating; and then, recording the real speeches made, to explain to us the causes which contributed to the success or failure of the several speakers. Thus we should obtain a true conception of the situation, and by exercising our judgment upon it, and drawing analogies from it, should be able to form a thoroughly sound opinion upon the circumstances of the hour. But I suppose that tracing causes is difficult, while stringing words together in books is easy. Few again have the faculty of speaking briefly to the point, and getting the necessary training for doing so; while to produce a long and futile composition is within most people’s capacity and is common enough.
[12.25k] To confirm the judgment I have expressed of Timaeus, on his wilful misstatements as well as his ignorance, I shall now quote certain short passages from his acknowledged works as specimens. . . . Of all the men who have exercised sovereignty in Sicily, since the elder Gelo, tradition tells us that the most able have been Hermocrates, Timoleon, and Pyrrhus of Epirus, who are the last persons in the world on whom to father pedantic and scholastic speeches. Now Timaeus tells us in his twenty-first book that on his arrival in Sicily Eurymedon urged the cities there to undertake the war against Syracuse; that subsequently the people of Gela becoming tired of the war, sent an embassy to Camarina to make a truce; that upon the latter gladly welcoming the proposal, each state sent ambassadors to their respective allies begging them to despatch men of credit to Gela to deliberate on a pacification, and to secure the common interests. Upon the arrival of these deputies in Gela and the opening of the conference, he represents Hermocrates as speaking to the following effect: “He praised the people of Gela and Camarina first, for having made the truce; secondly, because they were the cause of the assembling of this peace congress; and thirdly because they had taken precautions to prevent the mass of the citizens from taking part in the discussion, and had secured that it should be confined to the leading men in the states, who knew the difference between peace and war.” Then after making two or three practical suggestions, Hermocrates is represented as expressing an opinion that “if they seriously consider the matter they will learn the profound difference between peace and war,”—although just before he had said that it was precisely this which moved his gratitude to the men of Gela, that “the discussion did not take place in the mass assembly, but in a congress of men who knew the difference between peace and war.” This is an instance in which Timaeus not only fails to show the ability of an historian, but sinks below the level of a school theme. For, I presume, it will be universally admitted that what an audience requires is a demonstration of that about which they are in ignorance or uncertainty; but to exhaust one’s ingenuity in finding arguments to prove what is known already is the most futile waste of time. But besides his cardinal mistake of directing the greater part of the speech to points which stood in need of no arguments at all, Timaeus also puts into the mouth of Hermocrates certain sentences of which one could scarcely believe that any commonplace youth would have been capable, much less the colleague of the Lacedaemonians in the battle of Aegospotami, and the sole conqueror of the Athenian armies and generals in Sicily.
[12.26] For first he “thinks that he should remind the congress that in war sleepers are woke at dawn by bugles, in peace by cocks.”⁵⁵ Then he says that “Hercules established the Olympic games and the sacred truce during them, as an exemplification of his own principles;” and that “he had injured all those persons against whom he waged war, under compulsion and in obedience to the order of another, but was never voluntarily the author of harm to any man.”⁵⁶ Next he quotes the instance of Zeus in Homer as being displeased with Ares, and saying⁵⁷—
“Of all the gods that on Olympus dwell
I hold thee most detested; for thy joy
Is ever strife and war and battle.”
And again the wisest of the heroes says⁵⁸—
“He is a wretch, insensible and dead
To all the charities of social life,
Whose pleasure is in civil broil and war.”
Then he goes on to allege that Euripides agrees with Homer in the lines⁵⁹—
“O well of infinite riches!
O fairest of beings divine!
O Peace, how alas! thou delayest;
My heart for thy coming is fain.
I tremble lest age overtake me,
Ere thy beauty and grace I behold;
Ere the maidens shall sing in their dancing,
And revels be gladsome with flowers.”
Next he remarks that “war is like disease, peace like health; for that the latter restores those that are sick, while in the former even the healthy perish. Moreover, in time of peace, the old are buried by the young as nature directs, while in war the case is reversed; and above all in war there is no security even as far as the city walls, while in peace it extends to the frontier of the territory”—and so on. I wonder what other arguments would have been employed by a youth who had just devoted himself to scholastic exercises and studies in history; and who wished, according to the rules of the art, to adapt his words to the supposed speakers? Just these I think which Timaeus represents Hermocrates as using.
[12.26a] Again, in the same book, Timoleon is exhorting the Greeks to engage the Carthaginians;⁶⁰ and when they are on the very point of coming to close quarters with the enemy, who are many times superior to them in number, Timaeus represents him as saying, “Do not look to the numbers of the foe, but to their cowardice. For though Libya is fully settled and abounds in inhabitants, yet when we wish to express complete desolation we say ‘more desolate than Libya,’ not meaning to refer to its emptiness, but to the poor spirit of its inhabitants. And after all, who would be afraid of men who, when nature gives hands as the distinctive feature of man among all living creatures, carry them about all their life inside their tunics idle?⁶¹ And more than all, who wear shirts under their inner tunics, that they may not even when they fall in battle show their nakedness to their enemies? . . .”
[12.26b] When Gelo promised to help the Greeks with twenty thousand land forces and two hundred decked ships, if they would concede to him the chief command either by land or sea, they say that the congress of Greeks, sitting at Corinth, gave Gelo’s envoys a most spirited answer. They urged Gelo to come to their aid with his forces, and observed that the logic of facts would give the command to the bravest. This is not the language of men depending for succour on the Syracusans, as a last resource; but of men who felt confidence in themselves, and challenged all comers to a rivalry of courage and for the crown of valour. In spite of this, Timaeus spends such a wealth of rhetoric and earnestness on these points, in his desire to exalt the importance of Sicily above all the rest of Greece, to represent its history as the most splendid and glorious of all the world, its men as the wisest of all who have been great in philosophy, and the Syracusans as the most consummate and divine of statesmen, that he could scarcely be surpassed by the cleverest schoolboy declaimers when undertaking to prove such paradoxes as that “Thersites was an excellent man,” or “Penelope a bad wife,” or other thesis of that description.
[12.26c] However, the only effect of such extravagant exaggeration is to bring ridicule upon the men and the transactions which it is his intention to champion; while he himself incurs the same discredit as ill-trained disputants in the Academy; some of whom, in their desire to embarrass their opponents on all subjects, possible or impossible alike, carry their paradoxical and sophistical arguments to such a length as to dispute whether it is possible for people at Athens to smell eggs cooking at Ephesus: and to offer to maintain that, while they are discussing these points, they are lying on their couches at home and carrying on a second discussion on other subjects. This extravagance of paradox has brought the whole school into such disrepute, that even reasonable discussions have lost credit with the world. And apart from their own futility, these persons have inspired our young men with so depraved a taste, that they pay no attention whatever to questions of ethics and politics, which bring benefit to those who study them; but spend their lives in pursuit of an empty reputation for useless and paradoxical verbiage.
[12.26d] This is just the case with Timaeus and his imitators in history. Paradoxical and tenacious, he has dazzled the multitude by skill in words; and has forced attention to himself by a show of veracity, or has conciliated confidence by a pretence of producing proof of his assertions. The most conspicuous instances of his success in inspiring this confidence are those parts of his work which treat of colonies, founding of cities, and the relationships of nations. In these points he makes such a parade of minute accuracy, and inveighs so bitterly when refuting others, that people came to imagine that all other historians have been mere dreamers, and have spoken at random in describing the world; and that he is the only man who has made accurate investigations, and unravelled every history with intelligence.
[12.26e] As a matter of fact, his books contain much that is sound, but also much that is false. Those, however, who have spent much time on his earlier books, in which the passages I have alluded to occur, when the confidence which they have fully given to his exaggerated professions is disturbed by some one pointing out that Timaeus is obnoxious to the same reproaches which he has brought with such bitterness against others (as, for instance, in the misstatements as to the Locrians, and other instances lately mentioned by me), become angry and obstinate in controversy, and difficult to convince. And that, I might almost say, is all the benefit which the most diligent students of his history get from their reading. While those who devote their attention to his speeches, and generally to the didactic part of his work, become pedantic, sophistical, and wholly insensible to truth, for reasons which I have already stated.
[12.27] Moreover, when he comes to deal with facts in his history, we find a combination of all the faults which I have mentioned. The reason I will now proceed to state. It will not, perhaps, to most people seem to his credit, and it is in truth the real source of his errors. For whereas he is thought to have possessed great and wide knowledge, a faculty for historical inquiry, and extraordinary industry in the execution of his work, in certain cases he appears to have been the most ignorant and indolent person that ever called himself an historian. And the following considerations will prove it. Nature has bestowed on us two instruments of inquiry and research, hearing and sight. Of these sight is, according to Heracleitus, by far the truer; for eyes are surer witnesses than ears. And of these channels of learning Timaeus has chosen the pleasanter and the worse; for he entirely refrained from looking at things with his own eyes, and devoted himself to learning by hearsay. But even the ear may be instructed in two ways, reading and answers to personal inquiries: and in the latter of these he was very indolent, as I have already shown. The reason of his preference for the other it is easy to divine. Study of documents involves no danger or fatigue, if one only takes care to lodge in a city rich in such records, or to have a library in one’s neighbourhood. You may then investigate any question while reclining on your couch, and compare the mistakes of former historians without any fatigue to yourself. But personal investigation demands great exertion and expense; though it is exceedingly advantageous, and in fact is the very corner-stone of history. This is evident from the writers of history themselves. Ephorus says, “if writers could only be present at the actual transactions, it would be far the best of all modes of learning.” Theopompus says, “the best military historian is he who has been present at the greatest number of battles; the best speech maker is he who has been engaged in most political contests.” The same might be said of the art of healing and of steering. Homer has spoken even more emphatically than these writers on this point. For when he wishes to describe what the man of light and leading should be, he introduces Odysseus in these words—
“Tell me, oh Muse, the man of many shifts
Who wandered far and wide.”
and then goes on—
“And towns of many saw, and learnt their mind,
And suffered much in heart by land and sea.”
and again⁶²—
“Passing through wars of men and grievous waves.”
[12.28] It is such a man that the dignity of history appears to me to require. Plato says that “human affairs will not go well until either philosophers become kings or kings become philosophers.”⁶³ So I should say that history will never be properly written, until either men of action undertake to write it (not as they do now, as a matter of secondary importance; but, with the conviction that it is their most necessary and honourable employment, shall devote themselves through life exclusively to it), or historians become convinced that practical experience is of the first importance for historical composition. Until that time arrives there will always be abundance of blunders in the writings of historians. Timaeus, however, quite disregarded all this. He spent his life in one place, of which he was not even a citizen; and thus deliberately renounced all active career either in war or politics, and all personal exertion in travel and inspection of localities: and yet, somehow or another, he has managed to obtain the reputation of a master in the art of history. To prove that I have not misrepresented him, it is easy to bring the evidence of Timaeus himself. In the preface to his sixth book he says that “some people suppose that more genius, industry, and preparation are required for rhetorical than for historical composition.” And that “this opinion had been formerly advanced against Ephorus.” Then because this writer had been unable to refute those who held it, he undertakes himself to draw a comparison between history and rhetorical compositions: a most unnecessary proceeding altogether. In the first place he misrepresents Ephorus. For in truth, admirable as Ephorus is throughout his whole work, in style, treatment, and argumentative acuteness, he is never more brilliant than in his digressions and statements of his personal views: in fact, whenever he is adding anything in the shape of a commentary or a note. And it so happens that his most elegant and convincing digression is on this very subject of a comparison between historians and speech-writers. But Timaeus is anxious not to be thought to follow Ephorus. Therefore, in addition to misrepresenting him and condemning the rest, he enters upon a long, confused, and in every way inferior, discussion of what had been already sufficiently handled by others; and expected that no one living would detect him.
[12.28a] However, he wished to exalt history; and, in order to do so, he says that “history differs from rhetorical composition as much as real buildings differ from those represented in scene-paintings.” And again, that “to collect the necessary materials for writing history is by itself more laborious than the whole process of producing rhetorical compositions.” He mentions, for instance, the expense and labour which he underwent in collecting records from Assyria, and in studying the customs of the Ligures, Celts, and Iberians. But he exaggerates these so much, that he could not have himself expected to be believed. One would be glad to ask the historian which of the two he thinks is the more expensive and laborious,—to remain quietly at home and collect records and study the customs of Ligures and Celts, or to obtain personal experience of all the tribes possible, and see them with his own eyes? To ask questions about manœuvres on the field of battle and the sieges of cities and fights at sea from those who were present, or to take personal part in the dangers and vicissitudes of these operations as they occur? For my part I do not think that real buildings differ so much from those in stage - scenery, nor history from rhetorical compositions, as a narrative drawn from actual and personal experience differs from one derived from hearsay and the report of others. But Timaeus had no such experience: and he therefore naturally supposed that the part of an historian’s labour which is the least important and lightest, that namely of collecting records and making inquiries from those who had knowledge of the several events, was in reality the most important and most difficult. And, indeed, in this particular department of research, men who have had no personal experience must necessarily fall into grave errors. For how is a man, who has no knowledge of such things, to put the right questions as to manœuvering of troops, sieges of cities, and fights at sea? And how can he understand the details of what is told him? Indeed, the questioner is as important as the narrator for getting a clear story. For in the case of men who have had experience of real action, memory is a sufficient guide from point to point of a narrative: but a man who has had no such experience can neither put the right questions, nor understand what is happening before his eyes. Though he is on the spot, in fact, he is as good as absent.

## Book XIII

[13.1] From the unbroken continuity of their wars, and the extravagance of their daily lives, the Aetolians became involved in debt, not only without others noticing it, but without being sensible of it themselves. Being therefore naturally disposed to a change in their constitution, they elected Dorimachus and Scopas to draw out a code of laws, because they saw that they were not only innovators by disposition, but were themselves deeply involved in private debt. These men accordingly were admitted to the office and drew up the laws. . . .
[13.1] When they produced them they were opposed by Alexander of Aetolia, who tried to show by many instances that innovation was a dangerous growth which could not be checked, and invariably ended by inflicting grave evils upon those who fostered it. He urged them therefore not to look solely to the exigencies of the hour, and the relief from their existing contracts, but to the future also. For it was a strange inconsistency to be ready to forfeit their very lives in war to preserve their children, and yet in their deliberations to be entirely careless of the future. . . .
[13.2] Having failed to obtain the office, for the sake of which he had had the boldness to draw up these laws, Scopas turned his hopes to Alexandria, in the expectation of finding means there of restoring his broken fortunes, and satisfying to a fuller extent his grasping spirit. He little knew that it is impossible to assuage the ever-rising desires of the soul without correcting this passion by reason, any more than it is to stay or quench the thirst of the dropsical body by supplying it with drink, without radically restoring its healthy condition. Scopas, indeed, is a conspicuous example of this truth; for though on his arrival at Alexandria, in addition to his military pay, which he possessed independently as commander-in-chief, the king assigned him ten minae a day, and one mina a day to those next him in rank, still he was not satisfied; but continued to demand more, until he disgusted his paymasters by his cupidity, and lost his life and his gold together.

### Philip’s Treacherous Conduct, B. C. 204

[13.3] Philip now entered upon a course of treachery which no one would venture to say was worthy of a king; but which some would defend on the ground of its necessity in the conduct of public affairs, owing to the prevailing bad faith of the time. For the ancients, so far from using a fraudulent policy towards their friends, were scrupulous even as to using it to conquer their enemies; because they did not regard a success as either glorious or secure, which was not obtained by such a victory in the open field as served to break the confidence of their enemies. They therefore came to a mutual understanding not to use hidden weapons against each other, nor such as could be projected from a distance; and held the opinion that the only genuine decision was that arrived at by a battle fought at close quarters, foot to foot with the enemy. It was for this reason also that it was their custom mutually to proclaim their wars, and give notice of battles, naming time and place at which they meant to be in order of battle. But nowadays people say that it is the mark of an inferior general to perform any operation of war openly. Some slight trace, indeed, of the old-fashioned morality still lingers among the Romans; for they do proclaim their wars, and make sparing use of ambuscades, and fight their battles hand to hand and foot to foot. So much for the unnecessary amount of artifice which it is the fashion for commanders in our days to employ both in politics and war.
[13.4] Philip gave Heracleides a kind of problem to work out, —how to circumvent and destroy the Rhodian fleet. At the same time he sent envoys to Crete to excite and provoke them to go to war with the Rhodians. Heracleides, who was a born traitor, looked upon the commission as the very thing to suit his plans; and after revolving various methods in his mind, presently started and sailed to Rhodes. He was by origin a Tarentine, of a low family of mechanics, and he had many qualities which fitted him for bold and unscrupulous undertakings. His boyhood had been stained by notorious immorality; he had great acuteness and a retentive memory; in the presence of the vulgar no one could be more bullying and audacious; to those in high position no one more insinuating and servile. He had been originally banished from his native city from a suspicion of being engaged in an intrigue to hand over Tarentum to the Romans: not that he had any political influence, but being an architect, and employed in some repairs of the walls, he got possession of the keys of the gate on the landward side of the town. He thereupon fled for his life to the Romans. From them, being detected in making communications by letters and messages with Tarentum and Hannibal, he again fled for fear of consequences to Philip. With him he obtained so much credit and influence that he eventually was the most powerful element in the overthrow of that great monarchy.
[13.5] The Prytanies of Rhodes were now distrustful of Philip, owing to his treacherous policy in Crete,⁶⁴ and they began to suspect that Heracleides was his agent. . . .
[13.5] But Heracleides came before them and explained the reasons which had caused him to fly from Philip. . . .
[13.5] Philip was anxious above everything that the Rhodians should not discover his purpose in these transactions; whereby he succeeded in freeing Heracleides from suspicion. . . .
[13.5] Nature, as it seems to me, has ordained that Truth should be a most mighty goddess among men, and has endowed her with extraordinary power. At least, I notice that though at times everything combines to crush her, and every kind of specious argument is on the side of falsehood, she somehow or another insinuates herself by her own intrinsic virtue into the souls of men. Sometimes she displays her power at once; and sometimes, though obscured for a length of time, she at last prevails and overpowers falsehood. Such was the case with Heracleides when he came from king Philip to Rhodes.⁶⁵ . . .
[13.5] Damocles, who was sent with Pythio as a spy upon the Romans, was a person of ability, and possessed of many endowments fitting him for the conduct of affairs. . . .

### Nabis, Tyrant of Sparta, B.C. 207-192

[13.6] Nabis, tyrant of Sparta, being now in the third year of his reign, ventured upon no undertaking of importance, owing to the recent defeat of Machanidas by the Achaeans; but employed himself in laying the foundations of a long and grinding tyranny. He destroyed the last remains of the old Spartan nobles; drove into banishment all men eminent for wealth or ancestral glory; and distributed their property and wives among the chief men of those who remained, or among his own mercenary soldiers. These last were composed of murderers, housebreakers, foot-pads, and burglars. For this was, generally speaking, the class of men which he collected out of all parts of the world, whose own country was closed to them owing to their crimes and felonies. As he put himself forward as the patron and king of such wretches, and employed them as attendants and bodyguards, there is evidently no cause for surprise that his impious character and reign should have been long remembered. For, besides this, he was not content with driving the citizens into banishment, but took care no place should be secure, and no refuge safe for the exiles. Some he caused to be pursued and killed on the road, while others he dragged from their place of retreat and murdered. Finally, in the cities where they were living, he hired the houses next door to these banished men, wherever they might be, by means of agents who were not suspected; and then sent Cretans into these houses, who made breaches in the party walls, and through them, or through such windows as already existed, shot down the exiles as they stood or lay down in their own houses; so that there was no place of retreat, and no moment of security for the unfortunate Lacedaemonians.
[13.7] When he had by these means put the greater number of them out of the way, he next had constructed a kind of machine, if machine it may be called, which was the figure of a woman, clothed in costly garments, and made to resemble with extraordinary fidelity the wife of Nabis. Whenever then he summoned one of the citizens with a view of getting some money from him, he used first to employ a number of arguments politely expressed, pointing out the danger in which the city stood from the threatening attitude of the Achaeans, and explaining what a number of mercenaries he had to support for their security, and the expenses which fell upon him for the maintenance of the national religion and the needs of the State. If the listeners gave in he was satisfied; but if they ever refused to comply with his demand, he would say, “Perhaps I cannot persuade you, but I think this lady Apéga will succeed in doing so.” Apéga was the name of his wife. Immediately on his saying these words, the figure I have described was brought in. As soon as the man offered his hand to the supposed lady to raise her from her seat, the figure threw its arms round him and began drawing him by degrees towards its breasts. Now its arms, hands, and breasts were full of iron spikes under its clothes. When the tyrant pressed his hands on the back of the figure, and then by means of the works dragged the man by degrees closer and closer to its breasts, he forced him under this torture to say anything. A good number of men who refused his demands he destroyed in this way.⁶⁶
[13.8] The rest of his conduct was on a par with this beginning. He made common cause with the Cretan pirates, and kept temple-breakers, highway-robbers, and murderers all over the Peloponnese; and as he shared in the profits of their nefarious trades, he allowed them to use Sparta as their base of operations. Moreover, about this time some visitors from Boeotia, who happened to be staying at Lacedaemon, enticed one of his grooms to make off with them, taking a certain white horse which was considered the finest in the royal stud. They were pursued by a party sent by Nabis as far as Megalopolis, where the tyrants found the horse and groom, and took them off without any one interfering. But they then laid hands on the Boeotians, who at first demanded to be taken before the magistrate; but as no attention was paid to the demand, one of them shouted out “Help!” Upon a crowd of the people of the place collecting and protesting that the men should be taken before the magistrate, Nabis’s party were obliged to let them go and retire. Nabis, however, had been long looking out for a ground of complaint and a reasonable pretext for a quarrel, and having seized on this one, he harried the cattle belonging to Proagoras and some others; which was a commencement of the war.⁶⁷ . . .

### Antiochus in Arabia, B.C. 205-204

[13.9] Labae, like Sabae, is a city of Chattenia, which is a territory of the Gerraei. . . . In other respects, Chattenia is a rugged country, but the wealth of the Gerraei who inhabit it has adorned it with villages and towers. It lies along the Arabian Sea, and Antiochus gave orders to spare it. . . .
[13.9] In a letter to Antiochus the Gerraei demanded that he should not destroy what the gods had given them—perpetual peace and freedom; and this letter having been interpreted to him he granted the request. . . .
[13.9] Their freedom having been confirmed to the Gerraei, they presented King Antiochus at once with five hundred talents of silver, one thousand of frankincense, and two hundred of oil of cinnamon, called stactè, all of them spices of the country on the Arabian Sea. He then sailed to the island of Tylos, and thence to Seleucia. . . .

## Book XIV

[14.1a] Perhaps a resumé of events in each Olympiad may arrest the attention of my readers both by their number and importance, the transactions in every part of the world being brought under one view. However, I think the events of this Olympiad especially will do so; because in it the wars in Italy and Libya came to an end; and I cannot imagine any one not caring to inquire what sort of catastrophe and conclusion they had. For everybody, though extremely interested in details and particulars, naturally longs to be told the end of a story. I may add that it was in this period also that the kings gave the clearest indication of their character and policy. For what was only rumour in regard to them before was now become a matter of clear and universal knowledge, even to those who did not care to take part in public business. Therefore, as I wished to make my narrative worthy of its subject, I have not, as in former instances, included the history of two years in one book. . . .
[14.1a] Elected Consul for B.C. 205 (see 11, 33) Scipio had Sicily assigned as his provincia, with leave to cross to Africa if necessary (Livy, 28, 45). He sent Laelius to Africa in B.C. 205, but remained himself in Sicily. Next spring (B.C. 204) he crossed to Africa with a year’s additional imperium. In the course of this year he ravaged the Carthaginian territory and besieged Utica (Livy, 29, 35), and at the beginning of B.C. 203 his imperium was prolonged till he should have finished the war (id. 30, 1).
[14.1] While the Consuls were thus engaged,⁶⁸ Scipio in Libya learnt during the winter that the Carthaginians were fitting out a fleet; he therefore devoted himself to similar preparations as well as to pressing on the siege of Utica. He did not, however, give up all hopes of Syphax; but as their forces were not far apart he kept sending messages to him, convinced that he would be able to detach him from the Carthaginians. He still cherished the belief that Syphax was getting tired of the girl⁶⁹ for whose sake he had joined the Carthaginians, and of his alliance with the Punic people generally; for the Numidians, he knew, were naturally quick to feel satiety, and constant neither to gods nor men. Scipio’s mind, however, was distracted with various anxieties, and his prospects were far from seeming secure to him; for he shrank from an engagement in the open field on account of the enemy’s great superiority in numbers. He therefore seized an opportunity which now presented itself. Some of his messengers to Syphax reported to him that the Carthaginians had constructed their huts in their winter camp of various kinds of wood and boughs without any earth; while the old army of the Numidians made theirs of reeds, and the reinforcements which were now coming in from the neighbouring townships constructed theirs of boughs only, some of them inside the trench and palisade, but the greater number outside. Scipio therefore made up his mind that the manner of attacking them, which would be most unexpected by the enemy and most successful for himself, would be by fire. He therefore turned his attention to organising such an attack. Now, in his communications with Scipio, Syphax was continually harping upon his proposal that the Carthaginians should evacuate Italy and the Romans Libya; and that the possessions held by either between these two countries should remain in statu quo. Hitherto Scipio had refused to listen to this suggestion, but he now gave Syphax a hint by the mouth of his messengers that the course he wished to see followed was not impossible. Greatly elated at this, Syphax became much bolder than before in his communications with Scipio; the numbers of the messengers sent backwards and forwards, and the frequency of their visits, were redoubled; and they sometimes even stayed several days in each other’s camps without any thought of precaution. On these occasions Scipio always took care to send, with the envoys, some men of tried experience or of military knowledge, dressed up as slaves in rough and common clothes, that they might examine and investigate in security the approaches and entrances to both the entrenchments. For there were two camps, one that of Hasdrubal, containing thirty thousand infantry and three thousand cavalry; and another about ten stades distant from it of the Numidians, containing ten thousand cavalry and about fifty thousand infantry. The latter was the easier of approach, and its huts were well calculated for being set on fire, because, as I said before, the Numidians had not made theirs of timber and earth, but used simply reeds and thatch in their construction.
[14.2] By the beginning of spring Scipio had completed the reconnaissances necessary for this attempt upon the enemy; and he began launching his ships, and getting the engines on them into working order, as though with the purpose of assaulting Utica by sea. With his land forces he once more occupied the high ground overlooking the town, and carefully fortified it and secured it by trenches. He wished the enemy to believe that he was doing this for the sake of carrying on the siege; but he really meant it as a cover for his men, who were to be engaged in the undertaking described above, to prevent the garrison sallying out, when the legions were separated from their lines, assaulting the palisade which was so near to them, and attacking the division left in charge of it. Whilst in the midst of these preparations, he sent to Syphax inquiring whether, “in case he agreed to his proposals, the Carthaginians would assent, and not say again that they would deliberate on the terms?” He ordered these legates at the same time not to return to him, until they had received an answer on these points. When the envoys arrived, the Numidian king was convinced that Scipio was on the point of concluding the agreement, partly from the fact that the ambassadors said that they would not go away until they got his answer, and partly because of the anxiety expressed as to the disposition of the Carthaginians. He therefore sent immediately to Hasdrubal, stating the facts and urging him to accept the peace. Meanwhile he neglected all precautions himself, and allowed the Numidians, who were now joining, to pitch their tents where they were, outside the lines. Scipio in appearance acted in the same way, while in reality he was pushing on his preparations with the utmost care. When a message was returned from the Carthaginians bidding Syphax complete the treaty of peace, the Numidian king, in a state of great exaltation, communicated the news to the envoys; who immediately departed to their own camp to inform Scipio from the king of what had been done. As soon as he heard it, the Roman general at once sent fresh envoys to inform Syphax that Scipio was quite satisfied and was anxious for the peace; but that the members of his council differed from him, and held that they should remain as they were. The ambassadors duly arrived and informed the Numidians of this. Scipio sent this mission to avoid the appearance of a breach of truce, if he should perform any act of hostility while negotiations for peace were still going on between the parties. He considered that, by making this statement, he would be free to act in whatever way he chose without laying himself open to blame.
[14.3] Syphax’s annoyance at this message was great, in proportion to the hopes he had previously entertained of making the peace. He had an interview with Hasdrubal, and told him of the message he had received from the Romans; but though they deliberated long and earnestly as to what they ought to do, they neither had any idea or conjecture as to what was really going to happen. For they had no anticipation whatever as to the need of taking precautions, or of any danger threatening them, but were all eagerness and excitement to strike some blow, and thus provoke the enemy to descend into the level ground. Meanwhile Scipio allowed his army generally, by the preparations he was making and the orders he was issuing, to imagine that his aim was the capture of Utica; but summoning the most able and trusty Tribunes at noon, he imparted to them his design, and ordered them to cause their men to get their supper early, and then to lead the legions outside the camp as soon as the buglers gave the usual signal by a simultaneous blast of their bugles. For it is a custom in the Roman army for the trumpeters and buglers to sound a call near the commander’s tent at supper time, that the night pickets may then take up their proper positions. Scipio next summoned the spies whom he had sent at different times to reconnoitre the enemy’s quarters, and carefully compared and studied the accounts they gave about the roads leading to the hostile camps and the entrances to them, employing Massanissa to criticise their words and assist him with his advice, because he was acquainted with the locality.
[14.4] Everything being prepared for his expedition, Scipio left a sufficiently strong guard in the camp, and got the rest of the men on the march towards the end of the first watch, the enemy being about sixty stades distant. Arrived in the neighbourhood of the enemy, about the end of the third watch, he assigned to Gaius Laelius and Massanissa half his Roman soldiers and all his Numidians, with orders to attack the camp of Syphax, urging them to quit themselves like brave men and do nothing carelessly; with the clear understanding that, as the darkness hindered and prevented the use of the eyes, a night attack required all the more the assistance of a cool head and a firm heart. The rest of the army he took the command of in person, and led against Hasdrubal. He had calculated on not beginning his assault until Laelius’s division had set fire to the enemy’s huts; he therefore proceeded slowly. The latter meanwhile advanced in two divisions, which attacked the enemy simultaneously. The construction of the huts being as though purposely contrived to be susceptible of a conflagration, as I have already explained, as soon as the front rank men began to set light to them, the fire caught all the first row of huts fiercely, and soon got beyond all control, from the closeness of the huts to each other, and the amount of combustible material which they contained. Laelius remained in the rear as a reserve; but Massanissa, knowing the localities through which those who fled from the fire would be sure to retreat, stationed his own soldiers at those spots. Not a single Numidian had any suspicion of the true state of the case, not even Syphax himself; but thinking that it was a mere accidental conflagration of the rampart, some of them started unsuspiciously out of bed, others sprang out of their tents in the midst of a carouse and with the cup actually at their lips. The result was that numbers of them got trampled to death by their own friends at the exits from the camp; many were caught by the flames and burnt to death; while all those who escaped the flame fell into the hands of the enemy, and were killed, without knowing what was happening to them or what they were doing.
[14.5] At the same time the Carthaginians, observing the proportions of the conflagration and the hugeness of the flame that was rising, imagined that the Numidian camp had been accidentally set on fire. Some of them therefore started at once to render assistance, and all the rest hurried outside their own camp unarmed, and stood there gazing in astonishment at the spectacle. Everything having thus succeeded to his best wishes, Scipio fell upon these men outside their camp, and either put them to the sword, or, driving them back into the camp, set fire to their huts. The disaster of the Punic army was thus very like that which had just befallen the Numidians, fire and sword in both cases combining to destroy them. Hasdrubal immediately gave up all idea of combating the fire, for he knew from the coincidence of the two that the fire in the Numidian camp was not accidental, as he had supposed, but had originated from some desperate design of the enemy. He therefore turned his attention to saving his own life, although there was now little hope left of doing so. For the fire was spreading rapidly and was catching everywhere; while the camp gangways were full of horses, beasts of burden, and men, some of them half dead and devoured by the fire, and others in a state of such frantic terror and mad excitement that they prevented any attempts at making a defence, and by the utter tumult and confusion which they created rendered all chance of escape hopeless. The case of Syphax was the same as that of Hasdrubal, as it was also that of the other officers. The two former, however, did manage to escape, accompanied by a few horsemen: but all those myriads of men, horses, and beasts of burden, either met a miserable and pitiable death from the fire, or, if they escaped the violence of that, some of the men perished ignominiously at the hands of the enemy, cut down naked and defenceless, not only without their arms, but without so much as their clothes to cover them. The whole place was filled with yells of pain, confused cries, terror, and unspeakable din, mingled with a conflagration which spread rapidly and blazed with the utmost fierceness. It was the combination and suddenness of these horrors that made them so awful, any one of which by itself would have been sufficient to strike terror into the hearts of men. It is accordingly impossible for the imagination to exaggerate the dreadful scene, so completely did it surpass in horror everything hitherto recorded. Of all the brilliant achievements of Scipio this appears to me to have been the most brilliant and the most daring. . . .
[14.6] When day broke, and he found the enemy either killed or in headlong flight, Scipio exhorted his Tribunes to activity, and at once started in pursuit. At first the Carthaginian general seemed inclined to stand his ground, though told of Scipio’s approach, trusting in the strength of the town [of Anda]; but when he saw that the inhabitants were in a mutinous state, he shrank from meeting the attack of Scipio, and fled with the relics of his army, which consisted of as many as five hundred cavalry and about two thousand infantry. The inhabitants of the town thereupon submitted unconditionally to the Romans, and were spared by Scipio, who, however, gave up two neighbouring towns to the legions to plunder. This being done he returned to his original entrenchment. Baffled in the hopes which they had entertained of the course which the campaign would take, the Carthaginians were deeply depressed. They had expected to shut up the Romans on the promontory near Utica, which had been the site of their winter quarters, and besiege them there with their army and fleet both by sea and land. With this view all their preparations had been made; and when they saw, quite contrary to their calculations, that they were not only driven from the open country by the enemy, but were in hourly expectation of an attack upon themselves and their city, they became completely disheartened and panic-stricken. Their circumstances, however, admitted of no delay. They were compelled at once to take precautions and adopt some measures for the future. But the senate was filled with doubt and varied and confused suggestions. Some said that they ought to send for Hannibal and recall him from Italy, their one hope of safety being now centred in that general and his forces. Others were for an embassy to Scipio to obtain a truce and discuss with him the terms of a pacification and treaty. Others again were for keeping up their courage and collecting their forces, and sending a message to Syphax; who, they said, was at the neighbouring town of Abba, engaged in collecting the remnants of his army. This last suggestion was the one which ultimately prevailed. The Government of Carthage accordingly set about collecting troops, and sent a despatch to Syphax begging him to support them and abide by his original policy, as a general with an army would presently join him.
[14.7] Meanwhile the Roman commander was pressing on the siege of Utica. But when he heard that Syphax was still in position, and that the Carthaginians were once more collecting an army, he led out his forces and pitched his camp close under the walls of Utica. At the same time he divided the booty among the soldiers. . . .⁷⁰ The merchants who purchased them from the soldiers went away with very profitable bargains; for the recent victory inspired the soldiers with high hopes of a successful conclusion of the campaign, and they therefore thought little of the spoils already obtained, and made no difficulties in selling them to the merchants.
[14.7] The Numidian king and his friends were at first minded to continue their retreat to their own land. But while deliberating on this, certain Celtiberes, over four thousand in number, who had been hired as soldiers by the Carthaginians, arrived in the vicinity of Abba. Encouraged by this additional strength the Numidians stopped on their retreat. And when the young lady, who was daughter of Hasdrubal and wife of Syphax, added her earnest entreaties that he would remain and not abandon the Carthaginians at such a crisis, the Numidian king gave way and consented to her prayer. The approach of these Celtiberes did a great deal also to encourage the hopes of the Carthaginians: for instead of four thousand, it was reported at Carthage that they were ten thousand, and that their bravery and the excellency of their arms made them irresistible in the field. Excited by this rumour, and by the boastful talk which was current among the common people, the Carthaginians felt their resolution to once more take the field redoubled. And finally, within thirty days, they pitched a camp in conjunction with the Numidians and Celtiberes on what are called the Great Plains, with an army amounting to no less than thirty thousand.
[14.8] When news of these proceedings reached the Roman camp Scipio immediately determined to attack. Leaving orders, therefore, to the army and navy, which were besieging Utica, as to what they were to do, he started with all his army in light marching order. On the fifth day he reached the Great Plains, and during the first day after his arrival encamped on a piece of rising ground about thirty stades from the enemy. Next day he descended into the plain and drew up his army⁷¹ at a distance of seven stades from the enemy, with his cavalry forming an advanced guard. After skirmishing attacks carried on by both sides during the next two days, on the fourth both armies were deliberately brought out into position and drawn up in order of battle. Scipio followed exactly the Roman system, stationing the maniples of hastati in the front, behind them the principes, and lastly the triarii in the rear. Of his cavalry he stationed the Italians on the right wing, the Numidians and Massanissa on the left. Syphax and Hasdrubal stationed the Celtiberes in the centre opposite the Roman cohorts, the Numidians on the left, and the Carthaginians on the right. At the very first charge the Numidians reeled before the Italian cavalry, and the Carthaginians before those under Massanissa; for their many previous defeats had completely demoralised them. But the Celtiberes fought gallantly, for they had no hope of saving themselves by flight, being entirely unacquainted with the country; nor any expectation of being spared if they were taken prisoners on account of their perfidy to Scipio: for they were regarded as having acted in defiance of justice and of their treaty in coming to aid the Carthaginians against the Romans, though they had never suffered any act of hostility at Scipio’s hands during the campaigns in Iberia. When, however, the two wings gave way these men were surrounded by the principes and triarii, and cut to pieces on the field almost to a man. Thus perished the Celtiberes, who yet did very effective service to the Carthaginians, not only during the whole battle, but during the retreat also; for, if it had not been for the hindrance caused by them, the Romans would have pressed the fugitives closely, and very few of the enemy would have escaped. As it was, owing to the delay caused by these men, Syphax and his cavalry effected their retreat to his own kingdom in safety; while Hasdrubal with the survivors of his army did the same to Carthage.
[14.9] After making the necessary arrangements as to the booty and prisoners, Scipio summoned a council of war to consult as to what to do next. It was resolved that Scipio himself and one part of the army should stay in the country and visit the various towns; while Laelius and Massanissa, with the Numidians and the rest of the Roman legions, should pursue Syphax and give him no time to deliberate or make any preparations. This being settled the commanders separated; the two latter going with their division in pursuit of Syphax, Scipio on a round of the townships. Some of these were terrified into a voluntary submission to the Romans, others he promptly took by assault. The whole country was ripe for a change, owing to the constant series of miseries and contributions, under which it had been groaning from the protracted wars in Iberia.
[14.9] In Carthage meanwhile, where the panic had been great enough before, a still wilder state of excitement prevailed, after this second disaster, and the disappointment of the hopes of success which they had entertained. However, those of the counsellors who claimed the highest character for courage urged that they should go on board their ships and attack the besiegers of Utica, try to raise the blockade, and engage the enemy at sea, who were not in a forward state of preparation in that department; that they should recall Hannibal, and without delay test to the utmost this one more chance: for both these measures offered great and reasonable opportunities of securing their safety. Others declared that their circumstances no longer admitted of these measures: what they had to do was to fortify their town and prepare to stand a siege; for chance would give them many occasions of striking a successful blow if they only held together. At the same time they advised that they should deliberate on coming to terms and making a treaty, and see on what conditions and by what means they might extricate themselves from the danger. After a long debate, all these proposals were adopted together.
[14.10] Upon this decision being come to, those who were to sail to Italy went straight from the council chamber to the sea, while the Navarch went to prepare the ships. The rest began to take measures for securing the city, and remained in constant consultation on the measures necessary for the purpose.
[14.10] Meanwhile Scipio’s camp was getting gorged with booty; for he found no one to resist him, and everybody yielded to his attacks. He therefore determined to despatch the greater part of the booty to his original camp; while he advanced with his army in light marching order to seize the entrenchment near Tunes, and pitched his camp within the view of the inhabitants of Carthage, thinking that this would do more than anything else to strike terror into their hearts and lower their courage.
[14.10] The Carthaginians had in a few days manned and provisioned their ships, and were engaged in getting under sail and carrying out their plan of operations, when Scipio arrived at Tunes, and, the garrison flying at his approach, occupied the town, which is about a hundred stades from Carthage, of remarkable strength both natural and artificial, and visible from nearly every point of Carthage.
[14.10] Just as the Romans pitched their camp there, the Carthaginians were putting out to sea on board their ships to sail to Utica. Seeing the enemy thus putting out, and fearing some misfortune to his own fleet, Scipio was rendered exceedingly anxious, because no one there was prepared for such an attack, or had anything in readiness to meet the danger. He therefore broke up his camp and marched back in haste to support his men. There he found his decked ships thoroughly well fitted out for raising siege-engines and applying them to walls, and generally for all purposes of an assault upon a town, but not in the least in the trim for a sea-fight; while the enemy’s fleet had been under process of rigging for this purpose the whole winter. He therefore gave up all idea of putting to sea to meet the enemy and accepting battle there; but anchoring his decked ships side by side he moored the transports round them, three or four deep; and then, taking down the masts and yard-arms, he lashed the vessels together firmly by means of these, keeping a space between each sufficient to enable the light craft to sail in and out. . . .
[14.11] Philo was a parasite of Agathocles, the son of Oenanthe, and the friend of king Philopator. . . . Many statues of Cleino, the girl who acted as cupbearer to Ptolemy Philadelphus, were set up at Alexandria, draped in a single tunic and holding a cup in the hands. And are not the most splendid houses there those which go by the names of Murtium, Mnesis, and Pothine? And yet Mnesis was a flute-girl, as was Pothine, and Murtium was a public prostitute. And was not Agathocleia, the mistress of king Ptolemy Philopator, an influential personage,—she who was the ruin of the whole kingdom? . . .

### Ptolemy Philopator, B.C. 222-205

[14.12] The question may be asked, perhaps, why I have chosen to give a sketch of Egyptian history here, going back a considerable period; whereas, in the case of the rest of my history, I have recorded the events of each year in the several countries side by side? I have done so for the following reasons: Ptolemy Philopator, of whom I am now speaking, after the conclusion of the war for the possession of Coele-Syria,⁷² abandoned all noble pursuits and gave himself up to the life of debauchery which I have just described. But late in life he was compelled by circumstances to engage in the war I have mentioned,⁷³ which, over and above the mutual cruelty and lawlessness with which it was conducted, witnessed neither pitched battle, sea fight, siege, or anything else worth recording. I thought, therefore, that it would be easier for me as a writer, and more intelligible to my readers, if I did not touch upon everything year by year as it occurred, or give a full account of transactions which were insignificant and undeserving of serious attention; but should once for all sum up and describe the character and policy of this king.

## Book XV

[15.1] A slight success on the part of the Carthaginian fleet at Utica (14, 10) had been more than outweighed by the capture of Syphax by Laelius [Livy, 39, 11]. Negotiations for peace followed, and an armistice, in the course of which occurred the incident referred to in the first extract of this book.
[15.1] The Carthaginians having seized the transports as prizes of war, and with them an extraordinary quantity of provisions, Scipio was extremely enraged, not so much at the loss of the provisions, as by the fact that the enemy had thereby obtained a vast supply of necessaries; and still more at the Carthaginians having violated the sworn articles of truce, and commenced the war afresh. He therefore at once selected Lucius Sergius, Lucius Baebius, and Lucius Fabius to go to Carthage, to remonstrate on what had taken place, and at the same time to announce that the Roman people had ratified the treaty; for he had lately received a despatch from home to that effect. Upon their arrival in Carthage these envoys first had an audience of the Senate, and then were introduced to a meeting of the people. On both occasions they spoke with great freedom on the situation of affairs, reminding their hearers that “Their ambassadors who had come to the Roman camp at Tunes, on being admitted to the council of officers, had not been content with appealing to the gods and kissing the ground, as other people do, but had thrown themselves upon the earth, and in abject humiliation had kissed the feet of the assembled officers; and then, rising from the ground, had reproached themselves for breaking the existing treaty between the Romans and Carthaginians, and acknowledged that they deserved every severity at the hands of the Romans; but intreated to be spared the last severities, from a regard to the vicissitudes of human fortune, for their folly would be the means of displaying the generosity of the Romans. Remembering all this, the general and the officers then present in the council were at a loss to understand what had encouraged them to forget what they then said, and to venture to break their sworn articles of agreement. Plainly it was this—they trusted in Hannibal and the forces that had arrived with him. But they were very ill advised. All the world knew that he and his army had been driven these two years past from every port of Italy, and had retreated into the neighbourhood of the Lacinian promontory, where they had been so closely shut up and almost besieged, that they had barely been able to get safe away home. Not that, even if they had come back,” he added, “as conquerors, and were minded to engage us who have already defeated you in two consecutive battles, ought you to entertain any doubt as to the result, or to speculate on the chance of victory. The certainty of defeat were a better subject for your reflections: and when that takes place, what are the gods that you will summon to your aid? And what arguments will you use to move the pity of the victors for your misfortunes? You must needs expect to be debarred from all hope of mercy from gods and men alike by your perfidy and folly.”
[15.2] After delivering this speech the envoys retired. Some few of the citizens were against breaking the treaty; but the majority, both of the politicians and the Senate, were much annoyed by its terms, and irritated by the plain speaking of the envoys; and, moreover, could not make up their minds to surrender the captured transports and the provisions which were on board them. But their main motive was a confident hope that they might yet conquer by means of Hannibal. The people therefore voted to dismiss the envoys without an answer. Moreover, the political party, whose aim it was to bring on the war at all hazards, held a meeting and arranged the following act of treachery. They gave out that it was necessary to make provision for conducting the envoys back to their camp in safety. They therefore at once caused two triremes to be got ready to convoy them; but at the same time sent a message to the Navarch Hasdrubal to have some vessels ready at no great distance from the Roman camp, in order that, as soon as the convoys had taken leave of the Roman envoys, he might bear down upon their ships and sink them; for the Carthaginian fleet was stationed at the time close under Utica. Having made this arrangement with Hasdrubal, they despatched the envoys, with instructions to the officers of the convoys to leave them and return, as soon as they had passed the mouth of the River Macara; for it was from this point that the enemy’s camp came into sight. Therefore, according to their instructions, as soon as they had passed this point, the officers of the convoys made signs of farewell to the Roman envoys and returned. Lucius and his colleagues suspected no danger, and felt no other annoyance at this proceeding than as regarding it as a mark of disrespect. But no sooner were they left thus alone, than three Carthaginian vessels suddenly started out to attack them, and came up with the Roman quinquereme. They failed, indeed, to stave her in, because she evaded them; nor did they succeed in boarding her, because the men resisted them with great spirit. But they ran up alongside of the vessel, and kept attacking her at various points, and managed to wound the marines with their darts and kill a considerable number of them; until at last the Romans, observing that their forage parties along the shore were rushing down to the beach to their assistance, ran their ships upon land. Most of the marines were killed, but the envoys had the unexpected good fortune to escape with their lives.
[15.3] This was the signal for the recommencement of the war in a fiercer and more angry spirit than before. The Romans on their part, looking upon themselves as having been treated with perfidy, were possessed with a furious determination to conquer the Carthaginians; while the latter, conscious of the consequences of what they had done, were ready to go all lengths to avoid falling under the power of the enemy. With such feelings animating both sides, it was quite evident that the result would have to be decided on the field of battle. Consequently everybody, not only in Italy and Libya, but in Iberia, Sicily, and Sardinia, was in a state of excited expectation, watching with conflicting feelings to see what would happen. But meanwhile Hannibal, finding himself too weak in cavalry, sent to a certain Numidian named Tychaeus, who was a friend of Syphax, and was reputed to possess the most warlike cavalry in Libya, urging him “to lend his aid, and not let the present opportunity slip; as he must be well aware that, if the Carthaginians won the day, he would be able to maintain his rule; but if the Romans proved victorious, his very life would be in danger, owing to the ambition of Massanissa.” This prince was convinced by these arguments, and joined Hannibal with two thousand horsemen.
[15.4] Having secured his fleet, Scipio left Baebius in command of it in his place, while he himself went a round of the cities. This time he did not admit to mercy those who voluntarily surrendered, but carried all the towns by force, and enslaved the inhabitants, to show his anger at the treachery of the Carthaginians. To Massanissa he sent message after message, explaining to him how the Punic government had broken the terms, and urging him to collect the largest army he was able and join him with all speed. For as soon as the treaty had been made, Massanissa, as I have said, had immediately departed with his own army and ten Roman cohorts, infantry and cavalry, accompanied by some commissioners from Scipio, that he might not only recover his own kingdom, but secure the addition of that of Syphax also, by the assistance of the Romans. And this purpose was eventually effected.
[15.4] It happened that just at this time the envoys from Rome arrived at the naval camp. Those of them who had been sent by the Roman government, Baebius at once caused to be escorted to Scipio, while he retained those who were Carthaginians. The latter were much cast down, and regarded their position as one of great danger; for when they were informed of the impious outrage committed by their countrymen on the persons of the Roman envoys, they thought there could be no doubt that the vengeance for it would be wreaked upon themselves. But when Scipio learnt from the recently-arrived commissioners that the senate and people accepted with enthusiasm the treaty which he had made with the Carthaginians, and were ready to grant everything he asked, he was highly delighted, and ordered Baebius to send the envoys home with all imaginable courtesy. And he was very well advised to do so, in my opinion. For as he knew that his countrymen made a great point of respecting the rights of ambassadors, he considered in his own mind, not what the Carthaginians deserved to have done to them, but what it was becoming in Romans to inflict. Therefore, though he did not relax his own indignation and anger at what they had done, he yet endeavoured, in the words of the proverb, “to maintain the good traditions of his sires.” The result was that, by this superiority in his conduct, a very decided impression was made upon the spirits of the Carthaginians and of Hannibal himself.
[15.5] When the people of Carthage saw the cities in their territory being sacked, they sent a message to Hannibal begging him to act without delay, to come to close quarters with the enemy, and bring the matter to the decision of battle. He bade the messengers in answer “to confine their attention to other matters, and to leave such things to him, for he would choose the time for fighting himself.” Some days afterwards he broke up his quarters at Adrumetum, and pitched his camp near ZAMA, a town about five days’ march to the west of Carthage. From that place he sent spies to ascertain the place, nature, and strength of the Roman general’s encampment. These spies were caught and brought to Scipio, who, so far from inflicting upon them the usual punishment of spies, appointed a tribune to show them everything in the camp thoroughly and without reserve; and when this had been done, he asked the men whether the appointed officer had been careful to point out everything to them. Upon their replying that he had, he gave them provisions and an escort, and despatched them with injunctions to be careful to tell Hannibal everything they had seen. On their return to his camp, Hannibal was so much struck with the magnanimity and high courage of Scipio, that he conceived a lively desire for a personal interview with him. With this purpose he sent a herald to say that he was desirous of a parley to discuss the matters at issue. When the herald had delivered his message, Scipio at once expressed his consent, and said that he would himself send him a message when it suited him to meet, naming the time and place. The herald returned to Hannibal with this answer. Next day Massanissa arrived with six thousand infantry and about four thousand cavalry. Scipio received him with cordiality, and congratulated him on having added to his sway all those who had previously been subject to Syphax. Thus reinforced, he removed his camp to Naragara: selecting it as a place which, among other advantages, enabled him to get water within a javelin’s throw.
[15.6] From this place he sent to the Carthaginian general, informing him that he was ready to meet him, and discuss matters with him. On hearing this, Hannibal moved his quarters to within thirty stades of Scipio, and pitched his camp on a hill, which seemed a favourable position for his present purpose, except that water had to be fetched from a considerable distance, which caused his soldiers great fatigue.
[15.6] Next day both commanders advanced from their camps attended by a few horsemen. Presently they left these escorts and met in the intervening space by themselves, each accompanied by an interpreter. Hannibal was the first to speak, after the usual salutation. He said that “He wished that the Romans had never coveted any possession outside Italy, nor the Carthaginians outside Libya; for these were both noble empires, and were, so to speak, marked out by nature. But since,” he continued, “our rival claims to Sicily first made us enemies, and then those for Iberia; and since, finally, unwarned by the lessons of misfortune, we have gone so far that the one nation has endangered the very soil of its native land, and the other is now actually doing so, all that there remains for us to do is to try our best to deprecate the wrath of the gods, and to put an end, as far as in us lies, to these feelings of obstinate hostility. I personally am ready to do this, because I have learnt by actual experience that Fortune is the most fickle thing in the world, and inclines with decisive favour now to one side and now to the other on the slightest pretext, treating mankind like young children.
[15.7] “But it is about you that I am anxious, Scipio. For you are still a young man, and everything has succeeded to your wishes both in Iberia and Libya, and you have as yet never experienced the ebb tide of Fortune; I fear, therefore, that my words, true as they are, will not influence you. But do look at the facts in the light of one story, and that not connected with a former generation, but our own. Look at me! I am that Hannibal who, after the battle of Cannae, became master of nearly all Italy; and presently advancing to Rome itself, and pitching my camp within forty stades of it, deliberated as to what I should do with you and your country; but now I am in Libya debating with you, a Roman, as to the bare existence of myself and my countrymen. With such a reverse as that before your eyes, I beg you not to entertain high thoughts, but to deliberate with a due sense of human weakness on the situation; and the way to do that is among good things to choose the greatest, among evils the least. What man of sense, then, would deliberately choose to incur the risk which is now before you. If you conquer, you will add nothing of importance to your glory or to that of your country; while, if you are worsted, you will have been yourself the means of entirely cancelling all the honours and glories you have already won. What then is the point that I am seeking to establish by these arguments? It is that the Romans should retain all the countries for which we have hitherto contended—I mean Sicily, Sardinia, and Iberia; and that the Carthaginians should engage never to go to war with Rome for these; and also that all the islands lying between Italy and Libya should belong to Rome. For I am persuaded that such a treaty will be at once safest for the Carthaginians, and most glorious for you and the entire people of Rome.”
[15.8] In reply to this speech of Hannibal, Scipio said “That neither in the Sicilian nor Iberian war were the Romans the aggressors, but notoriously the Carthaginians, which no one knew better than Hannibal himself. That the gods themselves had confirmed this by giving the victory, not to those who struck the first and unprovoked blow, but to those who only acted in self-defence. That he was as ready as any one to keep before his eyes the uncertainty of Fortune, and tried his best to confine his efforts within the range of human infirmity. But if,” he continued, “you had yourself quitted Italy before the Romans crossed to Libya with the offer of these terms in your hands, I do not think that you would have been disappointed in your expectation. But now that your departure from Italy has been involuntary, and we have crossed into Libya and conquered the country, it is clear that matters stand on a very different footing. But above all, consider the point which affairs have reached now. Your countrymen have been beaten, and at their earnest prayer we arranged a written treaty, in which, besides the offer now made by you, it was provided that the Carthaginians should restore prisoners without ransom, should surrender all their decked vessels, pay five thousand talents, and give hostages for their performance of these articles. These were the terms which I and they mutually agreed upon; we both despatched envoys to our respective Senates and people,—we consenting to grant these terms, the Carthaginians begging to have them granted. The Senate agreed: the people ratified the treaty. But though they had got what they asked, the Carthaginians annulled the compact by an act of perfidy towards us. What course is left to me? Put yourself in my place and say. To withdraw the severest clauses of the treaty? Are we to do this, say you, not in order that by reaping the reward of treachery they may learn in future to outrage their benefactors, but in order that by getting what they ask for they may be grateful to us? Why, only the other day, after obtaining what they begged for as suppliants, because your presence gave them a slender hope of success, they at once treated us as hated foes and public enemies. In these circumstances, if a still severer clause were added to the conditions imposed, it might be possible to refer the treaty back to the people; but, if I were to withdraw any of these conditions, such a reference does not admit even of discussion. What then is the conclusion of my discourse? It is, that you must submit yourselves and your country to us unconditionally, or conquer us in the field.”
[15.9] After these speeches Hannibal and Scipio parted without coming to any terms; and next morning by daybreak both generals drew out their forces and engaged. To the Carthaginians it was a struggle for their own lives and the sovereignty of Libya; to the Romans for universal dominion and supremacy. And could any one who grasped the situation fail to be moved at the story? Armies more fitted for war than these, or generals who had been more successful or more thoroughly trained in all the operations of war, it would be impossible to find, or any other occasion on which the prizes proposed by destiny to the combatants were more momentous. For it was not merely of Libya or Europe that the victors in this battle were destined to become masters, but of all other parts of the world known to history,—a destiny which had not to wait long for its fulfilment.
[15.9] Scipio placed his men on the field in the following order: the hastati first, with an interval between their maniples; behind them the principes, their maniples not arranged to cover the intervals between those of the hastati as the Roman custom is, but immediately behind them at some distance, because the enemy was so strong in elephants. In the rear of these he stationed the triarii. On his left wing he stationed Gaius Laelius with the Italian cavalry, on the right Massanissa with all his Numidians. The intervals between the front maniples he filled up with maniples of velites, who were ordered to begin the battle; but if they found themselves unable to stand the charge of the elephants, to retire quickly either to the rear of the whole army by the intervals between the maniples, which went straight through the ranks, or, if they got entangled with the elephants, to step aside into the lateral spaces between the maniples.
[15.10] These dispositions made, he went along the ranks delivering an exhortation to the men, which, though short, was much to the point in the circumstances in which they were placed. He called upon them, “Remembering their former victories, to show themselves to be men of mettle and worthy their reputation and their country. To put before their eyes that the effect of their victory would be not only to make them complete masters of Libya, but to give them and their country the supremacy and undisputed lordship of the world. But if the result of the battle were unfavourable, those who fell fighting gallantly would have the record of having died for their country, while those that saved themselves by flight would spend the rest of their days as objects of pitying contempt and scorn. For there was no place in Libya which could secure their safety if they fled; while, if they fell into the hands of the Carthaginians, no one who looked facts in the face could doubt what would happen to them. May none of you,” he added, “learn that by experience! Since, then, Fortune puts before us the most glorious of rewards, in whichever way the battle is decided, should we not be at once the most mean-spirited and foolish of mankind if we abandon the most glorious alternative, and from a paltry clinging to life deliberately choose the worst of misfortunes? Charge the enemy then with the steady resolve to do one of two things, to conquer or to die! For it is men thus minded who invariably conquer their opponents, since they enter the field with no other hope of life.”
[15.11] Such was Scipio’s address to his men. Meanwhile Hannibal had put his men also into position. His elephants, which numbered more than eighty, he placed in the van of the whole army. Next his mercenaries, amounting to twelve thousand, and consisting of Ligurians, Celts, Baliarians, and Mauretani; behind them the native Libyans and Carthaginians; and on the rear of the whole the men whom he had brought from Italy, at a distance of somewhat more than a stade. His wings he strengthened with cavalry, stationing the Numidian allies on the left wing, and the Carthaginian horsemen on the right. He ordered each officer to address his own men, bidding them rest their hopes of victory on him and the army he had brought with him; while he bade their officers remind the Carthaginians in plain terms what would happen to their wives and children if the battle should be lost. While these orders were carried out by the officers, Hannibal himself went along the lines of his Italian army and urged them “to remember the seventeen years during which they had been brothers-in-arms, and the number of battles they had fought with the Romans, in which they had never been beaten or given the Romans even a hope of victory. Above all, putting aside minor engagements and their countless successes, let them place before their eyes the battle of the River Trebia against the father of the present Roman commander; and again the battle in Etruria against Flaminius; and lastly that at Cannae against Aemilius, with none of which was the present struggle to be compared, whether in regard to the number or excellence of the enemy’s men. Let them only raise their eyes and look at the ranks of the enemy; they would see that they were not merely fewer, but many times fewer than those with whom they had fought before, while, as to their soldierly qualities, there was no comparison. The former Roman armies had come to the struggle with them untainted by memories of past defeats: while these men were the sons or the remnants of those who had been beaten in Italy, and fled before him again and again. They ought not therefore,” he said, “to undo the glory and fame of their previous achievements, but to struggle with a firm and brave resolve to maintain their reputation of invincibility.”
[15.11] Such were the addresses of the two commanders.
[15.12] All arrangements for the battle being complete, and the two opposing forces of Numidian cavalry having been for some time engaged in skirmishing attacks upon each other, Hannibal gave the word to the men on the elephants to charge the enemy. But as they heard the horns and trumpets braying all round them, some of the elephants became unmanageable and rushed back upon the Numidian contingents of the Carthaginian army; and this enabled Massanissa with great speed to deprive the Carthaginian left wing of its cavalry support. The rest of the elephants charged the Roman velites in the spaces between the maniples of the line, and while inflicting much damage on the enemy suffered severely themselves; until, becoming frightened, some of them ran away down the vacant spaces, the Romans letting them pass harmlessly along, according to Scipio’s orders, while others ran away to the right under a shower of darts from the cavalry, until they were finally driven clear off the field. It was just at the moment of this stampede of the elephants, that Laelius forced the Carthaginian cavalry into headlong flight, and along with Massanissa pressed them with a vigorous pursuit. While this was going on, the opposing lines of heavy infantry were advancing to meet others with deliberate step and proud confidence, except Hannibal’s “army of Italy,” which remained in its original position. When they came within distance the Roman soldiers charged the enemy, shouting as usual their war-cry, and clashing their swords against their shields: while the Carthaginian mercenaries uttered a strange confusion of cries, the effect of which was indescribable, for, in the words of the poet,⁷⁴ the
“voice of all was not one —
nor one their cry:
But manifold their speech as was their race.”
[15.13] The whole affair being now a trial of strength between man and man at close quarters, as the combatants used their swords and not their spears, the superiority was at first on the side of the dexterity and daring of the mercenaries, which enabled them to wound a considerable number of the Romans. The latter, however, trusting to the steadiness of their ranks and the excellence of their arms, still kept gaining ground, their rear ranks keeping close up with them and encouraging them to advance; while the Carthaginians did not keep up with their mercenaries nor support them, but showed a thoroughly cowardly spirit. The result was that the foreign soldiers gave way: and, believing that they had been shamelessly abandoned by their own side, fell upon the men on their rear as they were retreating, and began killing them; whereby many of the Carthaginians were compelled to meet a gallant death in spite of themselves. For as they were being cut down by their mercenaries they had, much against their inclination, to fight with their own men and the Romans at the same time; and as they now fought with desperation and fury they killed a good many both of their own men and of the enemy also. Thus it came about that their charge threw the maniples of the hastati into confusion; whereupon the officers of the principes caused their lines to advance to oppose them. However, the greater part of the mercenaries and Carthaginians had fallen either by mutual slaughter or by the sword of the hastati. Those who survived and fled Hannibal would not allow to enter the ranks of his army, but ordered his men to lower their spears and keep them back as they approached; and they were therefore compelled to take refuge on the wings or make for the open country.
[15.14] The space between the two armies that still remained in position was full of blood, wounded men, and dead corpses; and thus the rout of the enemy proved an impediment of a perplexing nature to the Roman general. Everything was calculated to make an advance in order difficult,—the ground slippery with gore, the corpses lying piled up in bloody heaps, and with the corpses arms flung about in every direction. However Scipio caused the wounded to be carried to the rear, and the hastati to be recalled from the pursuit by the sound of a bugle, and drew them up where they were in advance of the ground on which the fighting had taken place, opposite the enemy’s centre. He then ordered the principes and triarii to take close order, and, threading their way through the corpses, to deploy into line with the hastati on either flank. When they had surmounted the obstacles and got into line with the hastati, the two lines charged each other with the greatest fire and fury. Being nearly equal in numbers, spirit, courage, and arms, the battle was for a long time undecided, the men in their obstinate valour falling dead without giving way a step; until at last the divisions of Massanissa and Laelius, returning from the pursuit, arrived providentially in the very nick of time. Upon their charging Hannibal’s rear, the greater part of his men were cut down in their ranks; while of those who attempted to fly very few escaped with their life, because the horsemen were close at their heels and the ground was quite level. On the Roman side there fell over fifteen hundred, on the Carthaginian over twenty thousand, while the prisoners taken were almost as numerous.
[15.15] Such was the end of this battle, fought under these famous commanders: a battle on which everything depended, and which assigned universal dominion to Rome. After it had come to an end, Scipio pushed on in pursuit as far as the Carthaginian camp, and, after plundering that, returned to his own. Hannibal, escaping with a few horsemen, did not draw rein until he arrived safely at Adrumetum. He had done in the battle all that was to be expected of a good and experienced general. First, he had tried by an interview with his opponent to see what he could do to procure a pacification; and that was the right course for a man, who, while fully conscious of his former victories, yet mistrusts Fortune, and has an eye to all the possible and unexpected contingencies of war. Next, having accepted battle, the excellence of his dispositions for a contest with the Romans, considering the identity of the arms on each side, could not have been surpassed. For though the Roman line is hard to break, yet each individual soldier and each company, owing to the uniform tactic employed, can fight in any direction, those companies, which happen to be in nearest contact with the danger, wheeling round to the point required. Again, the nature of their arms gives at once protection and confidence, for their shield is large and their sword will not bend: the Romans therefore are formidable on the field and hard to conquer.
[15.16] Still Hannibal took his measures against each of these difficulties in a manner that could not be surpassed. He provided himself with those numerous elephants, and put them in the van, for the express purpose of throwing the enemy’s ranks into confusion and breaking their order. Again he stationed the mercenaries in front and the Carthaginians behind them, in order to wear out the bodies of the enemy with fatigue beforehand, and to blunt the edge of their swords by the numbers that would be killed by them; and moreover to compel the Carthaginians, by being in the middle of the army, to stay where they were and fight, as the poet says⁷⁵—
“That howsoe'er unwilling fight he must.”
But the most warlike and steady part of his army he held in reserve at some distance, in order that they might not see what was happening too closely, but, with strength and spirit unimpaired, might use their courage to the best advantage when the moment arrived. And, if in spite of having done everything that could be done, he who had never been beaten before failed to secure the victory now, we must excuse him. For there are times when chance thwarts the plans of the brave; and there are others again, when a man
“Though great and brave has met a greater still.”⁷⁶
And this we might say was the case with Hannibal on this occasion. . . .
[15.17] Manifestations of emotion which go beyond what is customary among a particular people, if they are thought to be the result of genuine feeling evoked by extraordinary disasters, excite pity in the minds of those who see or hear them; and we are all in a manner moved by the novelty of the spectacle. But when such things appear to be assumed for the purpose of taking in the spectators and producing a dramatic effect, they do not provoke pity, but anger and dislike. And this was the case in regard to the Carthaginian envoys. Scipio deigned to give a very brief answer to their prayers, saying that “They, at any rate, deserved no kindness at the hands of the Romans, since they had themselves confessed that they were the aggressors in the war, by having, contrary to their treaty obligations, taken Saguntum and enslaved its inhabitants, and had recently been guilty of treachery and breaking the terms of a treaty to which they had subscribed and sworn. It was from a regard to their own dignity, to the vicissitudes of Fortune, and to the dictates of humanity that the Romans had determined to treat them with lenity and behave with magnanimity. And of this they would be convinced if they would take a right view of the case. For they ought not to consider it a hardship if they found themselves charged to submit to any punishment, to follow a particular line of conduct, or to give up this or that; they ought rather to regard it as an unexpected favour that any kindness was conceded to them at all; since Fortune, after depriving them of all right to pity and consideration, owing to their own unrighteous conduct, had put them in the power of their enemies.” After this preamble he mentioned the concessions to be made to them, and the penalties to which they were to submit.
[15.18] The following are the heads of the terms offered them:—The Carthaginians to retain the towns in Libya, of which they were possessed before they commenced the last war against Rome, and the territory which they also heretofore held, with its cattle, slaves, and other stock: and from that day should not be subject to acts of hostility, should enjoy their own laws and customs, and not have a Roman garrison in their city. These were the concessions favourable to them. The clauses of an opposite character were as follows:—The Carthaginians to pay an indemnity to the Romans for all wrongs committed during the truce; to restore all captives and runaway slaves without limit of time; to hand over all their ships of war except ten triremes, and all elephants; to go to war with no people outside Libya at all, and with none in Libya without consent from Rome; to restore to Massanissa all houses, territory, and cities belonging to him or his ancestors within the frontiers assigned to that king; to supply the Roman army with provisions for three months, and with pay, until such time as an answer shall be returned from Rome on the subject of the treaty; to pay ten thousand talents of silver in fifty years, two hundred Euboic talents every year; to give a hundred hostages of their good faith, —such hostages to be selected from the young men of the country by the Roman general, and to be not younger than fourteen or older than thirty years.
[15.19] This was the nature of Scipio’s answer to the envoys, who hastened home and communicated its terms to their countrymen. It was then that the story goes that, upon a certain Senator intending to speak against accepting the terms and actually beginning to do so, Hannibal came forward and pulled the man down from the tribune; and when the other senators showed anger at this breach of custom, Hannibal rose again and “owned that he was ignorant of such things; but said that they must pardon him if he acted in any way contrary to their customs, remembering that he had left the country when he was but fourteen, and had only returned when now past forty-five. Therefore he begged them not to consider whether he had committed a breach of custom, but much rather whether he were genuinely feeling for his country’s misfortunes; for that was the real reason for his having been guilty of this breach of manners. For it appeared to him to be astonishing, and, indeed, quite unaccountable, that any one calling himself a Carthaginian, and being fully aware of the policy which they had individually and collectively adopted against the Romans, should do otherwise than adore the kindness of Fortune for obtaining such favourable terms, when in their power, as a few days ago no one—considering the extraordinary provocation they had given—would have ventured to mention, if they had been asked what they expected would happen to their country, in case of the Romans proving victorious. Therefore he called upon them now not to debate, but unanimously to accept the terms offered, and with sacrifices to the gods to pray with one accord that the Roman people might confirm the treaty.” His advice being regarded as both sensible and timely, they resolved to sign the treaty on the conditions specified; and the senate at once despatched envoys to notify their consent. . . .
[15.19] The intrigues of Philip V. and Antiochus the Great to divide the dominions of the infant king of Egypt, Ptolemy Epiphanes, B. C. 204.
[15.20] Is it not astonishing that while Ptolemy Philopator was alive and did not need such assistance, these two kings were ready with offers of aid, but that as soon as he was dead, leaving his heir a mere child, whose kingdom they were bound by the ties of nature to have defended, they then egged each other on to adopt the policy of partitioning the boy’s kingdom between themselves, and getting rid entirely of the heir; and that too without putting forward any decent pretext to cover their iniquity, but acting so shamelessly, and so like beasts of prey, that one can only compare their habits to those ascribed to fishes, among which, though they may be of the same species, the destruction of the smaller is the food and sustenance of the larger. This treaty of theirs shows, as though in a mirror, the impiety to heaven and cruelty to man of these two kings, as well as their unbounded ambition. However, if a man were disposed to find fault with Fortune for her administration of human affairs, he might fairly become reconciled to her in this case; for she brought upon those monarchs the punishment they so well deserved, and by the signal example she made of them taught posterity a lesson in righteousness. For while they were engaged in acts of treachery against each other, and in dismembering the child’s kingdom in their own interests, she brought the Romans upon them, and the very measures which they had lawlessly designed against another, she justly and properly carried out against them. For both of them, being promptly beaten in the field, were not only prevented from gratifying their desire for the dominions of another, but were themselves made tributary and forced to obey orders from Rome. Finally, within a very short time Fortune restored the kingdom of Ptolemy to prosperity; while as to the dynasties and successors of these two monarchs, she either utterly abolished and destroyed them, or involved them in misfortunes which were little short of that. . . .
[15.21] There was a certain man at Cius named Molpagoras, a ready speaker and of considerable ability in affairs, but at heart a mere demagogue and selfish intriguer. By flattering the mob, and putting the richer citizens into its power, he either got them put to death right out, or drove them into exile and distributed their confiscated goods among the common people, and thus rapidly secured for himself a position of despotic power. . . .
[15.21] The miseries which befel the Cians were not so much owing to Fortune or the aggressions of their neighbours, as to their own folly and perverse policy. For by steadily promoting their worst men, and punishing all who were opposed to these, that they might divide their property among themselves, they seemed as it were to court the disasters into which they fell. These are disasters into which, somehow or another, though all men fall, they yet not only cannot learn wisdom, but seem not even to acquire the cautious distrust of brute beasts. The latter, if they have once been hurt by bait or trap, or even if they have seen another in danger of being caught, you would find it difficult to induce to approach anything of the sort again: they are shy of the place, and suspicious of everything they see. But as for men, though they have been told of cities utterly ruined by their policy, and see others actually doing so before their eyes, yet directly any one flatters their wishes by holding out to them the prospect of recruiting their fortunes at the cost of others, they rush thoughtlessly to the bait: although they know quite well that no one, who has ever swallowed such baits, has ever survived; and that such political conduct has notoriously been the ruin of all who have adopted it.
[15.22] Philip was delighted at taking the city, as though⁷⁷ he had performed a glorious and honourable achievement; for while displaying great zeal in behalf of his brother-in-law (Prusias), and overawing all who opposed his policy, he had secured for himself in fair warfare a large supply of slaves and money. But the reverse of this picture he did not see in the least, although it was quite plain. In the first place, that he was assisting his brother-in-law, who, without receiving any provocation, was treacherously assailing his neighbours. In the second place, that by involving a Greek city without just cause in the most dreadful misfortunes, he was sure to confirm the report, which had been widely spread, of his severity to his friends; and by both of these actions would justly gain throughout Greece the reputation of a man reckless of the dictates of piety. In the third place, that he had outraged the envoys from the above-mentioned states,⁷⁸ who had come with the hope of saving the Cians from the danger which threatened them, and who, after being day after day mocked by his professions, had been at length compelled to witness what they most abhorred. And lastly, that he had so infuriated the Rhodians, that they would never henceforth listen to a word in his favour: a circumstance for which Philip had to thank Fortune as well as himself.
[15.23] For it happened that just when his ambassador was defending his master before the Rhodians in the theatre,—enlarging on “the magnanimity of Philip,” and announcing that “though already in a manner master of Cius, he conceded its safety to the wishes of the Rhodian people; and did so because he desired to refute the calumnies of his enemies, and to establish the honesty of his intentions in the eyes of Rhodes,”—just then a man entered the Prytaneum who had newly arrived in the island, and brought the news of the enslavement of the Cians and the cruelty which Philip had exercised upon them. The Prytanis coming into the theatre to announce this news, while the ambassador was absolutely in the middle of his speech, the Rhodians could scarcely make up their minds to believe a report which involved such monstrous treachery.
[15.23] He had then betrayed himself quite as grossly as the Cians; and so blind or misguided had he become as to the principles of right and wrong, that he boasted of actions of which he ought to have been most heartily ashamed, and plumed himself upon them as though they were to his credit. But the people of Rhodes from that day forth regarded Philip as their enemy, and made their preparations with that view. And no less by this course had he gained the hatred of the Aetolians. He had but lately made terms with, and held out the hand of friendship to that nation: no excuse for a breach had arisen; and the Lysimachians, Calchedonians, and Cianians were friends and allies of the Aetolians. Nevertheless only a short time before he had separated Lysimachia from the Aetolian alliance, and induced it to submit to him: then he had done the same to Calchedon: and lastly he had enslaved the Cians, though there was an Aetolian officer actually in Cius and conducting the government. Prusias, however, in so far as his policy was accomplished, was delighted; but inasmuch as another was in possession of the prizes of the operations, while he himself got as his share nothing but the bare site of a city, was extremely annoyed, but was yet unable to do anything. . . .
[15.24] During his return voyage Philip engaged in one act of treachery after another, and among others put in about midday at the town of Thasos, and though it was on good terms with him, took it and enslaved its inhabitants. . . .
[15.24] The Thasians answered Philip’s general Metrodorus, that they would surrender their city, on condition that he would guarantee them freedom from a garrison, tribute, or billeting of soldiers, and the enjoyment of their own laws. Metrodorus having declared the king’s consent to this, the whole assembly signified their approval of the words by a loud shout, whereupon they admitted Philip into the town. . . .
[15.24] All kings perhaps at the beginning of their reign dangle the name of liberty before their subjects’ eyes, and address as friends and allies those who combine in pursuing the same objects as themselves; but when they come to actual administration of affairs they at once cease to treat these as allies, and assume the airs of a master. Such persons accordingly find themselves deceived as to the honourable position they expected to occupy, though as a rule not as to the immediate advantage which they sought. But if a king is meditating undertakings of the greatest importance, and only bounding his hopes by the limits of the world, and has as yet had nothing to cast a damp upon his projects, would it not seem the height of folly and madness to proclaim his own fickleness and untrustworthiness in matters which are of the smallest consequence, and lie at the very threshold of his enterprise? . . .

### Egypt

[15.24a] My plan being to narrate under each year all the events in the several parts of the world which were contemporary, it is clear that in some cases it will be necessary to mention the end before the beginning; when, that is to say, that particular part of the subject calls for mention, first, as being in place in the general course of my narrative, and the events which embrace the end of an episode fit in sooner than those which belong to its beginning and first conception. . . .
[15.25] Sosibius, the unfaithful guardian of Ptolemy Epiphanes, was a creature of extraordinary cunning, who long retained his power, and was the instrument of many crimes at court: he contrived first the murder of Lysimachus, son of Arsinoe, daughter of Ptolemy and Berenice; secondly, that of Maga, son of Ptolemy and Berenice the daughter of Maga; thirdly, that of Berenice the mother of Ptolemy Philopator; fourthly, that of Cleomenes of Sparta; and fifthly, that of Arsinoe the daughter of Berenice. . . .
[15.25] Three or four days after the death of Ptolemy Philopator, having caused a platform to be erected in the largest court of the palace, Agathocles and Sosibius summoned a meeting of the foot-guards and the household, as well as the officers of the infantry and cavalry. The assembly being formed, they mounted the platform, and first of all announced the deaths of the king and queen, and proclaimed the customary period of mourning for the people. After that they placed a diadem upon the head of the child, Ptolemy Epiphanes, proclaimed him king, and read a forged will, in which the late king nominated Agathocles and Sosibius guardians of his son. They ended by an exhortation to the officers to be loyal to the boy and maintain his sovereignty. They next brought in two silver urns, one of which they declared contained the ashes of the king, the other those of Arsinoe. And in fact one of them did really contain the king’s ashes, the other was filled with spices. Having done this they proceeded to complete the funeral ceremonies. It was then that all the world at last learnt the truth about the death of Arsinoe. For now that her death was clearly established, the manner of it began to be a matter of speculation. Though rumours which turned out to be true had found their way among the people, they had up to this time been disputed; now there was no possibility of hiding the truth, and it became deeply impressed in the minds of all. Indeed there was great excitement among the populace: no one thought about the king; it was the fate of Arsinoe that moved them. Some recalled her orphanhood; others the tyranny and insult she had endured from her earliest days; and when her miserable death was added to these misfortunes, it excited such a passion of pity and sorrow that the city was filled with sighs, tears, and irrepressible lamentation. Yet it was clear to the thoughtful observer that these were not so much signs of affection for Arsinoe as of hatred towards Agathocles.
[15.25] The first measure of this minister, after depositing the urns in the royal mortuary, and giving orders for the laying aside of mourning, was to gratify the army with two months’ pay; for he was convinced that the way to deaden the resentment of the common soldiers was to appeal to their interests. He then caused them to take the oath customary at the proclamation of a new king; and next took measures to get all who were likely to be formidable out of the country. Philammon, who had been employed in the murder of Arsinoe, he sent out as governor of Cyrene, while he committed the young king to the charge of Oenanthe and Agathocleia. Next, Pelops the son of Pelops he despatched to the court of Antiochus in Asia, to urge him to maintain his friendly relations with the court of Alexandria, and not to violate the treaty he had made with the young king’s father. Ptolemy, son of Sosibius, he sent to Philip to arrange for a treaty of inter-marriage between the two countries, and to ask for assistance in case Antiochus should make a serious attempt to play them false in any matter of importance.
[15.25] He also selected Ptolemy, son of Agesarchus, as ambassador to Rome: not with a view of his seriously prosecuting the embassy, but because he thought that, if he once entered Greece, he would find himself among friends and kinsfolk, and would stay there; which would suit his policy of getting rid of eminent men. Scopas the Aetolian also he sent to Greece to recruit foreign mercenaries, giving him a large sum in gold for bounties. He had two objects in view in this measure: one was to use the soldiers so recruited in the war with Antiochus; another was to get rid of the mercenary troops already existing, by sending them on garrison duty in the various forts and settlements about the country; while he used the new recruits to fill up the numbers of the household regiments with new men, as well as the pickets immediately round the palace, and in other parts of the city. For he believed that men who had been hired by himself, and were taking his pay, would have no feelings in common with the old soldiers, with whom they would be totally unacquainted; but that, having all their hopes of safety and profit in him, he would find them ready to co-operate with him and carry out his orders.
[15.25] Now all this took place before the intrigue of Philip, though it was necessary for the sake of clearness to speak of that first, and to describe the transactions which took place, both at the audience and the dispatch of the ambassadors.
[15.25] To return to Agathocles: when he had thus got rid of the most eminent men, and had to a great degree quieted the wrath of the common soldiers by his present of pay, he returned quickly to his old way of life. Drawing round him a body of friends, whom he selected from the most frivolous and shameless of his personal attendants or servants, he devoted the chief part of the day and night to drunkenness and all the excesses which accompany drunkenness, sparing neither matron, nor bride, nor virgin, and doing all this with the most offensive ostentation. The result was a widespread outburst of discontent; and when there appeared no prospect of reforming this state of things, or of obtaining protection against the violence, insolence and debauchery of the court, which on the contrary grew daily more outrageous, their old hatred blazed up once more in the hearts of the common people, and all began again to recall the misfortunes which the kingdom already owed to these very men. But the absence of any one fit to take the lead, and by whose means they could vent their wrath upon Agathocles and Agathocleia, kept them quiet. Their one remaining hope rested upon Tlepolemus, and on this they fixed their confidence.
[15.25] As long as the late king was alive Tlepolemus remained in retirement; but upon his death he quickly propitiated the common soldiers, and became once more governor of Pelusium. At first he directed all his actions with a view to the interest of the king, believing that there would be some council of regency to take charge of the boy and administer the government. But when he saw that all those who were fit for this charge were got out of the way, and that Agathocles was boldly monopolising the supreme power, he quickly changed his purpose; because he suspected the danger that threatened him from the hatred which they mutually entertained. He therefore began to draw his troops together, and bestir himself to collect money, that he might not be an easy prey to any one of his enemies. At the same time he was not without hope that the guardianship of the young king, and the chief power in the state might devolve upon him; both because, in his own private opinion, he was much more fit for it in every respect than Agathocles, and because he was informed that his own troops and those in Alexandria were looking to him to put an end to the minister’s outrageous conduct. When such ideas were entertained by Tlepolemus, it did not take long to make the quarrel grow, especially as the partisans of both helped to inflame it. Being eager to secure the adhesion of the generals of divisions and the captains of companies, he frequently invited them to banquets; and at these assemblies, instigated partly by the flattery of his guests and partly by his own impulse (for he was a young man and the conversation was over the wine), he used to throw out sarcastic remarks against the family of Agathocles. At first they were covert and enigmatic, then merely ambiguous, and finally undisguised, and containing the bitterest reflections. He proposed the health of the scribbler of pasquinades, the sackbut-girl and waiting-woman; and spoke of his shameful boyhood, when as cupbearer of the king he had submitted to the foulest treatment. His guests were always ready to laugh at his words and add their quota to the sum of vituperation. It was not long before this reached the ears of Agathocles: and the breach between the two thus becoming an open one, Agathocles immediately began bringing charges against Tlepolemus, declaring that he was a traitor to the king, and was inviting Antiochus to come and seize the government. And he brought many plausible proofs of this forward, some of which he got by distorting facts that actually occurred, while others were pure invention. His object in so doing was to excite the wrath of the common people against Tlepolemus. But the result was the reverse; for the populace had long fixed their hopes on Tlepolemus, and were only too delighted to see the quarrel growing hot between them. The actual popular outbreak which did occur began from the following circumstances. Nicon, a relation of Agathocles, was in the lifetime of the late king commander of the navy. . . .
[15.26a] Another murder committed by Agathocles was that of Deinon, son of Deinon. But this, as the proverb has it, was the fairest of his foul deeds. For the letter ordering the murder of Arsinoe had fallen into this man’s hands, and he might have given information about the plot and saved the Queen; but at the time he chose rather to help Philammon, and so became the cause of all the misfortunes which followed; while, after the murder was committed, he was always recalling the circumstances, commiserating the unhappy woman, and expressing repentance at having let such an opportunity slip: and this he repeated in the hearing of many, so that Agathocles heard of it, and he met with his just punishment in losing his life. . . .
[15.26b] The first step of Agathocles was to summon a meeting of the Macedonian guards. He entered the assembly accompanied by the young king and his own sister Agathocleia. At first he feigned not to be able to say what he wished for tears; but after again and again wiping his eyes with his chlamys he at length mastered his emotion, and, taking the young king in his arms, spoke as follows: “Take this boy, whom his father on his death-bed placed in this lady’s arms” (pointing to his sister) “and confided to your loyalty, men of Macedonia! That lady’s affection has but little influence in securing the child’s safety: it is on you that that safety now depends; his fortunes are in your hands. It has long been evident to those who had eyes to see, that Tlepolemus was aiming at something higher than his natural rank; but now he has named the day and hour on which he intends to assume the crown. Do not let your belief of this depend upon my words; refer to those who know the real truth and have but just come from the very scene of his treason.” With these words he brought forward Critolaus, who deposed that he had seen with his own eyes the altars being decked, and the victims being got ready by the common soldiers for the ceremony of a coronation.
[15.26b] When the Macedonian guards had heard all this, far from being moved by his appeal, they showed their contempt by hooting and loud murmurs, and drove him away under such a fire of derision that he got out of the assembly without being conscious how he did it. And similar scenes occurred among other corps of the army at their meetings. Meanwhile great crowds kept pouring into Alexandria from the up-country stations, calling upon kinsmen or friends to help the movement, and not to submit to the unbridled tyranny of such unworthy men. But what inflamed the populace against the government more than anything else was the knowledge that, as Tlepolemus had the absolute command of all the imports into Alexandria, delay would be a cause of suffering to themselves.
[15.27] Moreover, an action of Agathocles himself served to heighten the anger of the multitude and of Tlepolemus. For he took Danae, the latter’s mother-in-law, from the temple of Demeter, dragged her through the middle of the city unveiled, and cast her into prison. His object in doing this was to manifest his hostility to Tlepolemus; but its effect was to loosen the tongues of the people. In their anger they no longer confined themselves to secret murmurs: but some of them in the night covered the walls in every part of the city with pasquinades; while others in the day time collected in groups and openly expressed their loathing for the government.
[15.27] Seeing what was taking place, and beginning to fear the worst, Agathocles at one time meditated making his escape by secret flight; but as he had nothing ready for such a measure, thanks to his own imprudence, he had to give up that idea. At another time he set himself to drawing out lists of men likely to assist him in a bold coup d'état, by which he should put to death or arrest his enemies, and then possess himself of absolute power. While still meditating these plans he received information that Moeragenes, one of the bodyguard, was betraying all the secrets of the palace to Tlepolemus, and was co-operating with him on account of his relationship with Adaeus, at that time the commander of Bubastus. Agathocles immediately ordered his secretary Nicostratus to arrest Moeragenes, and extract the truth from him by every possible kind of torture. Being promptly arrested by Nicostratus, and taken to a retired part of the palace, he was at first examined directly as to the facts alleged; but, refusing to confess anything, he was stripped. And now some of the torturers were preparing their instruments, and others with scourges in their hands were just taking off their outer garments, when just at that very moment a servant ran in, and, whispering something in the ear of Nicostratus, hurried out again. Nicostratus followed close behind him, without a word, frequently slapping his thigh with his hand.
[15.28] The predicament of Moeragenes was now indescribably strange. There stood the executioners by his side on the point of raising their scourges, while others close to him were getting ready their instruments of torture: but when Nicostratus withdrew they all stood silently staring at each other’s faces, expecting him every moment to return; but as time went on they one by one slipped away, until Moeragenes was left alone. Having made his way through the palace, after this unhoped-for escape, he rushed in his half-clothed state into a tent of the Macedonian guards which was situated close to the palace. They chanced to be at breakfast, and therefore a good many were collected together; and to them he narrated the story of his wonderful escape. At first they would not believe it, but ultimately were convinced by his appearing without his clothes. Taking advantage of this extraordinary occurrence, Moeragenes besought the Macedonian guards with tears not only to help him to secure his own safety, but the king’s also, and above all their own. “For certain destruction stared them in the face,” he said, “unless they seized the moment when the hatred of the populace was at its height, and every one was ready to wreak vengeance on Agathocles. That moment was now, and all that was wanted was some one to begin.”
[15.29] The passions of the Macedonians were roused by these words, and they finally agreed to do as Moeragenes advised. They at once went round to the tents, first those of their own corps, and then those of the other soldiers; which were all close together, facing the same quarter of the city. The wish was one which had for a long time been formed in the minds of the soldiery, wanting nothing but some one to call it forth, and with courage to begin. No sooner, therefore, had a commencement been made than it blazed out like a fire: and before four hours had elapsed every class, whether military or civil, had agreed to make the attempt.
[15.29] At this crisis, too, chance contributed a great deal to the final catastrophe. For a letter addressed by Tlepolemus to the army as well as some of his spies, had fallen into the hands of Agathocles. The letter announced that he would be at Alexandria shortly, and the spies informed Agathocles that he was already there. This news so distracted Agathocles that he gave up taking any measures at all or even thinking about the dangers which surrounded him, but departed at his usual hour to his wine, and kept up the carouse to the end in his usual licentious fashion. But his mother Oenanthe went in great distress to the temple of Demeter and Persephone, which was open on account of a certain annual sacrifice; and there first of all she besought the aid of those goddesses with bendings of the knee and strange incantations, and then sat down close to the altar and remained motionless. Most of the women present, delighted to witness her dejection and distress, kept silence: but the ladies of the family of Polycrates, and certain others of the nobility, being as yet unaware of what was going on around them, approached Oenanthe and tried to comfort her. But she cried out in a loud voice: “Do not come near me, you monsters! I know you well! Your hearts are always against us; and you pray the goddess for all imaginable evil upon us. Still I trust and believe that, God willing, you shall one day taste the flesh of your own children.” With these words she ordered her female attendants to drive them away, and strike them with their staves if they refused to go. The ladies availed themselves of this excuse for quitting the temple in a body, raising their hands and praying that she might herself have experience of those very miseries with which she had threatened her neighbours.
[15.30] The men having by this time decided upon a revolution, now that in every house the anger of the women was added to the general resentment, the popular hatred blazed out with redoubled violence. As soon as night fell the whole city was filled with tumult, torches, and hurrying feet. Some were assembling with shouts in the stadium; some were calling upon others to join them; some were running backwards and forwards seeking to conceal themselves in houses and places least likely to be suspected. And now the open spaces round the palace, the stadium, and the street were filled with a motley crowd, as well as the area in front of the Dionysian Theatre. Being informed of this, Agathocles roused himself from a drunken lethargy,—for he had just dismissed his drinking party,—and, accompanied by all his family, with the exception of Philo, went to the king. After a few words of lamentation over his misfortunes addressed to the child, he took him by the hand, and proceeded to the covered walk which runs between the Maeander garden and the Palaestra, and leads to the entrance of the theatre. Having securely fastened the two first doors through which he passed, he entered the third with two or three bodyguards, his own family, and the king. The doors, however, which were secured by double bars, were only of lattice work and could therefore be seen through.
[15.30] By this time the mob had collected from every part of the city in such numbers, that, not only was every foot of ground occupied, but the doorsteps and roofs also were crammed with human beings; and such a mingled storm of shouts and cries arose, as might be expected from a crowd in which women and children were mixed with men: for in Alexandria, as in Carthage, the children perform as conspicuous a part in such commotions as the men.
[15.31] Day now began to break and the uproar was still a confused babel of voices; but one cry made itself heard conspicuously above the rest, it was a call for THE KING. The first thing actually done was by the Macedonian guard: they left their quarters and seized the vestibule which served as the audience hall of the palace; then, after a brief pause, having ascertained whereabouts in the palace the king was, they went round to the covered walk, burst open the first doors, and, when they came to the next, demanded with loud shouts that the young king should be surrendered to them. Agathocles, recognising his danger, begged his bodyguards to go in his name to the Macedonians, to inform them that “he resigned the guardianship of the king, and all offices, honours, or emoluments which he possessed, and only asked that his life should be granted him with a bare maintenance; that by sinking to his original situation in life he would be rendered incapable, even if he wished it, of being henceforth oppressive to any one.” All the bodyguards refused except Aristomenes, who afterwards obtained the chief power in the state.
[15.31] This man was an Acarnanian, and, though far advanced in life when he obtained supreme power, he is thought to have made a most excellent and blameless guardian of the king and kingdom. And as he was distinguished in that capacity, so had he been remarkable before for his adulation of Agathocles in the time of his prosperity. He was the first, when entertaining Agathocles at his house, to distinguish him among his guests by the present of a gold diadem, an honour reserved by custom to the kings alone; he was the first too who ventured to wear his likeness on his ring; and when a daughter was born to him he named her Agathocleia.
[15.31] But to return to my story. Aristomenes undertook the mission, received his message, and made his way through a certain wicket-gate to the Macedonians. He stated his business in few words: the first impulse of the Macedonians was to stab him to death on the spot; but some of them held up their hands to protect him, and successfully begged his life. He accordingly returned with orders to bring the king or to come no more himself. Having dismissed Aristomenes with these words, the Macedonians proceeded to burst open the second door also. When convinced by their proceedings, no less than by the answers they had returned, of the fierce purpose of the Macedonians, the first idea of Agathocles was to thrust his hand through the latticed door,—while Agathocleia did the same with her breasts which she said had suckled the king,—and by every kind of entreaty to beg that the Macedonians would grant him bare life.
[15.32] But finding that his long and piteous appeals produced no effect, at last he sent out the young king with the bodyguards. As soon as they had got the king, the Macedonians placed him on a horse and conducted him to the stadium. His appearance being greeted with loud shouts and clapping of hands, they stopped the horse, and dismounting the child, ushered him to the royal stall and seated him there. But the feelings of the crowd were divided: they were delighted that the young king had been brought, but they were dissatisfied that the guilty persons had not been arrested and met with the punishment they deserved. Accordingly, they continued with loud cries to demand that the authors of all the mischief should be brought out and made an example. The day was wearing away, and yet the crowd had found no one on whom to wreak their vengeance, when Sosibius, who, though a son of the elder Sosibius, was at that time a member of the bodyguard, and as such had a special eye to the safety of the king and the State,—seeing that the furious desire of the multitude was implacable, and that the child was frightened at the unaccustomed faces that surrounded him and the uproar of the crowd, asked the king whether he would “surrender to the populace those who had injured him or his mother.” The boy having nodded assent, Sosibius bade some of the bodyguard announce the king’s decision, while he raised the young child from his seat and took him to his own house which was close by to receive proper attention and refreshment. When the message from the king was declared, the whole place broke out into a storm of cheering and clapping of hands. But meanwhile Agathocles and Agathocleia had separated and gone each to their own lodgings. Without loss of time soldiers, some voluntarily and others under pressure from the crowd, started in search of them.
[15.33] The beginning of actual bloodshed, however, was this. One of the servants and flatterers of Agathocles, whose name was Philo, came out to the stadium still flustered with wine. Seeing the fury of the multitude, he said to some bystanders that they would have cause to repent it again, as they had only the other day, if Agathocles were to come there. Of those who heard him some began to abuse him, while others pushed him about; and on his attempting to defend himself, some tore his cloak off his back, while others thrust their spears into him and wounded him mortally. He was dragged into the middle of the crowd breathing his last gasp; and, having thus tasted blood, the multitude began to look impatiently for the coming of the other victims. They had not to wait long. First appeared Agathocles dragged along bound hand and foot. No sooner had he entered than some soldiers rushed at him and struck him dead. And in doing so they were his friends rather than enemies, for they saved him from the horrible death which he deserved. Nicon was brought next, and after him Agathocleia stripped naked, with her two sisters; and following them the whole family. Last of all some men came bringing Oenanthe, whom they had torn from the temple of Demeter and Persephone, riding stripped naked upon a horse. They were all given up to the populace, who bit, and stabbed them, and knocked out their eyes, and, as soon as any one of them fell, tore him limb from limb, until they had utterly annihilated them all: for the savagery of the Egyptians when their passions are roused is indeed terrible. At the same time some young girls who had been brought up with Arsinoe, having learnt that Philammon, the chief agent in the murder of that Queen, had arrived three days before from Cyrene, rushed to his house; forced their way in; killed Philammon with stones and sticks; strangled his infant son; and, not content with this, dragged his wife naked into the street and put her to death.
[15.33] Such was the end of Agathocles and Agathocleia and their kinsfolk.
[15.34] I am quite aware of the miraculous occurrences and embellishments which the chroniclers of this event have added to their narrative with a view of producing a striking effect upon their hearers, making more of their comments on the story than of the story itself and the main incidents. Some ascribe it entirely to Fortune, and take the opportunity of expatiating on her fickleness and the difficulty of being on one’s guard against her. Others dwell upon the unexpectedness of the event, and try to assign its causes and probabilities. It was not my purpose, however, to treat this episode in this way, because Agathocles was not a man of conspicuous courage or ability as a soldier; nor particularly successful or worth imitating as a statesman; nor, lastly, eminent for his acuteness as a courtier or cunning as an intriguer, by which latter accomplishments Sosibius and many others have managed to keep one king after another under their influence to the last day of their lives. The very opposite of all this may be said of this man. For though he obtained high promotion owing to Philopator’s feebleness as a king; and though after his death he had the most favourable opportunity of consolidating his power, he yet soon fell into contempt, and lost his position and his life at once, thanks to his own want of courage and vigour.
[15.35] To such a story then no such dissertation is required, as was in place, for instance, in the case of the Sicilian monarchs, Agathocles and Dionysius, and certain others who have administered governments with reputation. For the former of these, starting from a plebeian and humble position—having been, as Timaeus sneeringly remarks, a potter—came from the wheel, clay, and smoke, quite a young man to Syracuse. And, to begin with, both these men in their respective generations became tyrants of Syracuse, a city that had obtained at that time the greatest reputation and the greatest wealth of any in the world; and afterwards were regarded as suzerains of all Sicily, and lords of certain districts in Italy. While, for his part, Agathocles not only made an attempt upon Africa, but eventually died in possession of the greatness he had acquired. It is on this account that the story is told of Publius Scipio, the first conqueror of the Carthaginians, that being asked whom he considered to have been the most skilful administrators and most distinguished for boldness combined with prudence, he replied, “the Sicilians Agathocles and Dionysius.” Now, in the case of such men as these, it is certainly right to try to arrest the attention of our readers, and, I suppose, to speak of Fortune and the mutability of human affairs, and in fact to point a moral: but in the case of such men as we have been speaking of, it is quite out of place to do so.
[15.36] For these reasons I have rejected all idea of making too much of the story of Agathocles. But another and the strongest reason was that all such wonderful and striking catastrophes are only worth listening to once; not only are subsequent exhibitions of them unprofitable to ear and eye, but elaborate harping upon them soon becomes simply troublesome. For those who are engaged on representing anything either to eye or ear can have only two objects to aim at,—pleasure and profit; and in history, more than in anything else, excessive prolixity on events of tragic interest fails of both these objects. For, in the first place, who would wish to emulate extraordinary catastrophes? And next, no one likes to be continually seeing and hearing things that are unnatural and beyond the ordinary conceptions of mankind. We are, indeed, eager to see and hear such things once and for the first time, because we want to know that a thing is possible which was supposed to be impossible: but when once convinced on that point no one is pleased at lingering on the Unnatural; but in fact would rather not come across it at all oftener than need be. In fact, the dwelling upon misfortunes which exceed the ordinary limits is more suitable to tragedy than to history. But perhaps we ought to make allowances for men who have studied neither nature nor universal history. They think, I presume, that the most important and astonishing events in all history are those which they happen to have come across themselves or to have heard from others, and they therefore give their attention exclusively to those. They accordingly do not perceive that they are making a mistake in expatiating on events which are neither novel,—for they have been narrated by others before,— nor capable of giving instruction or pleasure. So much on this point. . . .

### Antiochus

[15.37] King Antiochus, at the beginning of his reign, was thought to be a man of great enterprise and courage, and great vigour in the execution of his purposes; but as he grew older his character evidently deteriorated in itself, and disappointed the expectation of the world. . . .

## Notes

[1] Or “legion,” according to others. But as both Consuls are engaged in the business, it seems reasonable to refer it to the two consular armies of two legions each.
[2] That is “blaming Fortune or Providence.” Schw. quotes Xenophon Hellen. 7, 5, 12, ἔξεστι μὲν τὸ θεῖον αἰτιᾶσθαι.
[3] συμπέμψαι, a difficult word. See Strachan-Davidson’s note. It seems to me to be opposed to φυγεῖν or some such idea. Hannibal was not in flight, but kept the enemy with him, as it were, in a kind of procession, until the moment for striking.
[4] There is some word wanting in the text here which has been variously supplied. I have ventured to conjecture τὰ γὰρ δοκοῦντα παράβολον κ.τ.λ., and to translate accordingly: for it is the boldness and apparent rashness of Hannibal’s movement that Polybius seems to wish to commend.
[5] Cp. Homer, Odyss. 19, 471.
[6] Livy, 25, 40, calls him Mutines.
[7] See 3, 86, note. Cp. Cicero de Am. § 8, cum duobus ducibus de imperio in Italia decertatum est, Pyrrho et Annibale. Ab altero propter probitatem ejus non nimis alienos animos habemus; alterum propter crudelitatem semper haec civitas oderit.
[8] The paragraph “For the Aetolians. . . in Greece,” follows “the Messenians” in ch. 30, in the Greek texts. But it is evidently out of place there, and falls naturally into this position.
[9] Antigonus Doson.
[10] B.C. 211. See Livy, 26, 24-26.
[11] On the margin of one MS. is written “For such is the characteristic always maintained by the Athenian State.” But its relevancy is not very apparent; and at any rate it seems more likely to be a comment of the Epitomator, than a sentence from Polybius.
[12] Scopas (B.C. 211-210) must have gone out of office, i.e. it was after autumn of 210 B. C.
[13] That is, 10s. 3¾d. for about a bushel and a half. See on 2, 15.
[14] The port of Brundisium was known long before. See Herod. 4. 99. The Romans colonised the town in B. C. 244. See Livy, epit. 19.
[15] See on 3, 66.
[16] Dr. Arnold declares it “all but an impossibility that an army should have marched the distance (not less than 325 Roman miles) in a week.” Livy (26, 42) accepts the statement without question.
[17] Mr. Strachan-Davidson explains this to mean from the sea to the lake, as Scipio’s lines would not have extended right round the lake to the other sea.
[18] Escombrera (Σκομβραρία). I must refer my readers to Mr. Strachan-Davidson’s appendix on The Site of the Spanish Carthage for a discussion of these details. See above 2, 13; Livy, 26, 42.
[19] This seems to be the distinction between the words γερουσία and σύγκλητος. Cp. 36, 4. The latter is the word used by Polybius for the Roman Senate; for the nature of the first see Bosworth Smith, Carthage and the Carthaginians, p. 27. It was usually called “The Hundred.” Mommsen (Hist. of Rome,, vol. ii. p. 15) seems to doubt the existence of the larger council: its authority at any rate had been superseded by the oligarchical gerusia.
[20] This and the following chapter were formerly assigned to the description of Scipio’s proceedings in Spain and followed, ch. 20. Hultsch, however, seems right in placing them thus, and assigning them to the account of the tactics of Philopoemen.
[21] On the margin of one MS. the following is written, which may be a sentence from the same speech, or a comment of the Epitomator: “A confederacy with democratic institutions always stands in need of external support, owing to the fickleness of the multitude.”
[22] See 5, 44.
[23] This goddess is variously called Anaitis (Plut. Artax. 27) and Nanea (2 Macc. 1, 13). And is identified by Plutarch with Artemis, and by others with Aphrodite.
[24] This proverb perhaps arose from the frequent employment of the non-Hellenic Carians as mercenaries. Cp. Plato, Laches, 187 B; Euthydemus, 285 B; Euripides, Cyclops, 654.
[25] See 9, 11.
[26] This passage does not occur in the extant treatise of Aeneas; but is apparently referred to (ch. 7, § 4) as being contained in a preparatory treatise (παρασκευαστικὴ βίβλος).
[27] The grouping of these letters will be as follows:—
· 1 2 3 4 5 6
1 α ζ λ π φ
2 β η μ ρ χ
3 γ θ ν σ ψ
4 δ ι ξ τ ω
5 ε κ ο υ·
[28] Polybius confuses the Tanais (Don) with another Tanais or Iaxartes flowing into the south-east part of the Caspian.
[29] King of Bactria, see 11, 34.
[30] See Livy, 27, 39.
[31] Livy, 27, 44.
[32] There is nothing to show positively that a Rhodian is the speaker: but Livy mentions envoys from Rhodes and Ptolemy this year. For the special attempts of the Rhodians to bring about a peace between Philip and the Aetolians, see 5, 24, 100.
[33] The “Tarentines” were horsemen armed with light skirmishing javelins. See 4, 77; 16, 18; and cp. Arrian, Tact. 4, § 5; 18, § 2. Livy, 35, 28; 37, 40.
[34] See on 27, 4.
[35] The text is certainly corrupt here, and it is not clear what the general sense of the passage is beyond this,—that Philopoemen calculated on defeating the enemy, as he did, while struggling through the dyke: or on their exposing themselves to attack if they retreated from the dyke without crossing it.
[36] Or, according to another reading “five stades.” Livy, 28, 14, says quingentos passus.
[37] The text is imperfect.
[38] Handing it over to L. Lentulus and L. Manlius Acidinus, Livy, 28, 38.
[39] That is the Caucasus Indicus or Paropamisus: mod. Hindú Kúsh.
[40] Cp. a similar custom of the Lycians, Herod. 1, 173.
[41] He may have been referring to pre-Homeric times, cp. Herod. 6, 137, οὐ γὰρ εἶναι τοῦτον τὸν χρόνον σφίσι κω οὐδὲ τοῖσι ἄλλοισι Ἕλλησι οἰκέτας.
[42] The text is very imperfect here.
[43] For this title see on 22, 19. It is found in inscriptions in Thasos, Crete, and Cibyra. C. I. G. 2163, c; 2583; 4380, b.
[44] Both Curtius and Arrian seem to have found in their authorities that Darius crossed the Pinarus. Curt. 3, 8; Arrian, 2, 8.
[45] Reckoning the stade at 600 feet (Greek).
[46] See note to previous chapter.
[47] The Cilician gates.
[48] That is, sixteen or thirty-two deep.
[49] The text here is in hopeless confusion.
[50] Homer, who is generally spoken of as “the poet.” We may remember Horace (Ep. 1, 19, 6) Laudibus arguitur vini vinosus Homerus.
[51] See 3, 37. The point seems to be that the remark was too commonplace to put into the mouth of a hero.
[52] The text is again hopeless.
[53] The text is uncertain, and I am not at all sure of the meaning of ἐπ’ ὀνόματος, cp. 25 k, 27. These public harangues of doctors to attract patients are noticed in Xenophon, Memorab. 4, 2, 5.
[54] Tyrant of Salamis in Cyprus, B.C. 404-374. See Isocrates, Orat. x.
[55] For this proverb see Plutarch, Nicias, ch. 9, ἡδέως μεμνημένοι τοῦ εἰπόντος ὅτι τοὺς ἐν εἰρήνῃ καθεύδοντας οὐ σάλπιγγες ἀλλ’ ἀλεκτρυόνες ἀφυπνίζουσι.
[56] Ib. ch. 25.
[57] Homer, Il. 5. 890.
[58] Homer Il. 9, 63.
[59] Euripides, fr.
[60] Battle of the Crimesus. See Plutarch, Timol. ch. 27.
[61] He refers to the habit of Eastern nations thrusting their hands into long sleeves in the presence of their rulers. See Xenophon, Hellen. 2, 1, 8.
[62] Homer, Odyss. 1, 1-4; 8, 183.
[63] Republic, v. 473 C. vi. 499 B.
[64] The Rhodians had proclaimed war against the Cretan pirates. Philip had secretly commissioned one of his agents, the Aetolian Dicaearchus, to aid the Cretans. Diodor. fr. xxviii.
[65] Heracleides having gained credence at Rhodes by pretending to betray Philip’s intrigue with the Cretans, waited for an opportunity, and, setting fire to their arsenal, escaped in a boat. Polyaen. 5, 17, 2.
[66] The text of these last sentences is so corrupt that it is impossible to be sure of having rightly represented the meaning of Polybius.
[67] These raids on the territory of Megalopolis, however, did not lead to open war till B.C. 202. See 16, 16.
[68] Caepio was commanding in Bruttium, Servilius in Etruria and Liguria. Livy, 30, 1.
[69] Sophanisba, the daughter of Hasdrubal son of Gesco. Livy, 29, 23; 30, 12, 15.
[70] Some words are lost from the text.
[71] παρενέβαλλε, which Schweig. translates castra locavit: but though the word does sometimes bear that meaning, I cannot think that it does so here. Scipio seems to have retained his camp on the hill, only two and a half miles’ distant, and to have come down into the plain to offer battle each of the three days. Hence the imperfect.
[72] The war with Antiochus, B.C. 218-217. See 5, 40, 58-71, 79-87.
[73] A civil war, apparently in a rebellion caused by his own feeble and vicious character. It seems to be that referred to in 5, 107.
[74] Homer, Iliad, 4, 437.
[75] Homer, Iliad, 4, 300.
[76] A line of which the author is unknown; perhaps it was Theognis.
[77] See Livy, 31, 31; Strabo, 12, c. 4. Philip handed over Cius to Prusias.
[78] That is, from Rhodes and other states.