Sir Walter Ralegh’s The History of the World was entered in the Stationers’ Register on 15 April 1611. Three years later, in 1614, it was printed as a massive folio in London by William Stansby for Walter Burre. Ralegh had planned to write the story of Creation and everything which followed with the ultimate aim of illuminating the history of ‘this our renowned island of Great Britain’ (sig. A1). But the work remained unfinished: the narrative stops at 168 BC, and Ralegh abandoned his intention of completing a second and third volume. The History was nevertheless his greatest achievement during his eleven-year imprisonment in the Tower of London, a time when he also wrote political, naval, and military treatises, undertook chemical and medicinal experiments, planned his ill-fated voyage to Guiana, and campaigned intermittently to secure his own release.
The History was popular enough to be printed in ten seventeenth-century editions and was admired by, among others, John Milton, Oliver Cromwell, and John Locke. The circumstances surrounding its printing have been the source of much discussion among bibliographers, just as the personal and political motivations that drove Ralegh to produce it have stimulated discussion among historians and literary scholars. Ralegh’s methods of composition have also provoked a great deal of interest, not least because parts of The History may have been the result of collaboration with other writers. The extent of Jonson’s involvement remains a matter for debate. Most scholars agree that he probably had a hand in the description of the war between the Carthaginians and their own mercenary forces which broke out after the conclusion of the First Punic War in 242 BC, although Ralegh may have revised the narrative before publication. The description is based on the histories of Polybius, and appears in the first and third sections of Book 5, Chapter 2. The second section comprises a series of digressions on tyranny and the role of mercenaries in warfare which can be attributed without difficulty to Ralegh (see Firth, 1938 [first published 1918]). The account of the mercenaries’ war is unusually long and detailed, and the apparent separateness of these two sections from the main narrative of The History allowed them to be reprinted as a self-contained episode, again under Ralegh’s name, as A Notable and Memorable Story of the Cruel War between the Carthaginians and their Own Mercenaries (1647).
Jonson’s personal connections with Ralegh are well-established. In the spring of 1612, he was appointed tutor to Ralegh’s son, Wat, and travelled with him to Europe. The tour is best remembered for Drummond’s account of the prank the ‘knavishly inclined’ Wat played on Jonson while they were both in Paris, getting him ‘dead drunk, so that he knew not where he was’ and, in a gesture offensive to the Parisian Catholic majority, parading him through the street as he lay stretched out on a cart, ‘a more lively image of the crucifix than any they had’ (Informations¸ 227-32). After Ralegh’s execution for high treason in 1618, his widow, Bess, remained friends with Jonson (see Life Records, 70). He was called as a witness to support her claim in the Court of Chancery against the jeweller Peter Van Lore in 1623 and declared that he ‘very well knoweth’ her (Beer, 2004, 244). Jonson and Ralegh were also literary associates. In his survey of contemporary writers in Discoveries, Jonson remarked that Ralegh was ‘not to be contemned either for judgement or style’ (653-4), and later scholars have detected metrical similarities in their verse. Stansby and Burre, the printer and bookseller of The History, were both closely involved with the publication of Jonson’s folio Works in 1616. Burre owned the copyrights to a substantial majority of the texts included, with Stansby owning others and undertaking the printing. Ralegh and Jonson were therefore using the same publishing syndicate at more or less the same time, and it is possible that Ralegh chose Stansby and Burre on the basis of Jonson’s recommendation (H&S, 1.13-4; Beer, 1994, 442; Beer, 1997, 34 and 57, n. 18). The formidable task of handling the vast text of The History may indeed have delayed Stansby’s printing of Jonson’s Works (H&S, 1.64; Bland, 1998b). Ralegh and Jonson also shared an interest in Roman history: Jonson had already worked his reading of Tacitus into Sejanus and Sallust and Cicero into Catiline, and, as Herford and Simpson remark, ‘there is nothing unreasonable in supposing that an episode in Polybius might have seemed to him a fitting subject for a drama’ (H&S, 1.162, n. 198). The Earl of Northampton seemingly interpreted Sejanus as a satire on his own rivalry at court with Ralegh, although recent scholarship on the dating of this play makes it difficult to accept the earlier critical consensus that Ralegh’s trial for treason in 1603 inspired Jonson’s dramatisation of the trial of the military commander Caius Silius (see Sejanus, Introduction; Sejanus, ed. Ayres, 1990, 16-22; and Dutton, 1991, 10-12).
Finally Jonson and Ralegh are linked through the patronage of Prince Henry. Jonson addressed Henry in his dedication to the 1609 quarto of The Masque of Queens, devised Barriers for his investiture as Prince of Wales in January 1610, and honoured him again with Oberon (1611) and Love Restored (1612) (Wilson, 1946, 70-80; J. W. Williamson, 1978, 64-6, 91-102). Ralegh had become acquainted with Henry around 1608, perhaps through their shared interest in exploration, empire, and the English navy, and the Prince interceded with his father when James planned to bestow Ralegh’s estate of Sherbourne on Sir Robert Carr. Among the works Ralegh may have written with Henry in mind are Of the Art of War by Sea (which survives only in manuscript fragments and also deals with the history of Carthage), two tracts about marriage, and a treatise on shipbuilding entitled Observations on the Navy. Ralegh suggests towards the end of the Preface to The History, written in 1614, that he had been writing ‘for the service of that inestimable Prince Henry, the succesive hope, and one of the greatest of the Christian World’ (sig. C4v) (see Beer, 1994, 435-40). Whether or not Henry’s early death in November 1612 caused Ralegh to cease work on The History, as he claimed, it certainly closed off one potential source of support for both Ralegh and Jonson.
Jonson’s contribution to The History is recognised thanks to the remarks he made in January 1619 to his Scottish host, William Drummond, three months after Ralegh’s death:
That Sir W. Ralegh esteemed more of fame than conscience. The best wits of England were employed for making of his History. Ben himself had written a piece to him of the Punic War, which he altered and set in his book. (Informations, 148-50)
The irritated tone of these statements has suggested to some scholars Jonson’s resentment that Ralegh had included his work without due acknowledgement (Latham, 1964, 27; McCollum, 1964, 3-4). Jonson’s name was also omitted from his other contribution to The History, a commendatory poem entitled ‘The Mind of the Frontispiece to a Book’ (later printed with some alterations as Underwood 24) which interprets the elaborate allegory of the engraved frontispiece and elucidates its blend of Ciceronian style and Christian historiography. Given the sensitivity of the authorities to historical writing, and James’s particularly keen sense of historical analogy, Jonson may have had good reasons for being reluctant to have his name closely associated with the volume (see Brushfield, 1887, 410). Shortly after James’s coronation Ralegh had been tried and convicted on charges of treason, suspected of plotting against the life of the King. His lands, titles, and privileges having been confiscated, he was confined to the Tower in 1603 under a suspended death sentence and remained there until March 1616. Jonson’s own fortunes were less than secure in 1611, the year The History was entered into the Stationers’ Register, for the royal coffers were by now growing less able to bear the regular cost of elaborate court masques which had become his livelihood. The same year, the King’s Men’s performance of Catiline was poorly received (see Catiline, Introduction). The absence of Jonson’s name from Book 5, Chapter 2, of The History does not therefore undermine his claim to authorship. Indeed Jonson and others among the ‘best wits of England’ may have been even less willing, after Ralegh’s execution in 1618, to associate themselves with his sometimes incendiary interpretation of history (Centerwall, 2000, 540).
If Jonson had doubts about the likelihood of The History finding favour with James, they proved well-founded. Documentary evidence shows that the first edition caused offence to the King, and that the authorities intended to call it in (see Arber, 1875-94, 5.lxxvii). The absence of Ralegh’s name from the preliminaries to this edition suggests official interference, but his authorship could not have been much doubted. His achievements as soldier and adventurer are inscribed on the elaborate frontispiece showing a map of the world, and numerous historical episodes in the main narrative provided him with opportunities to draw from his own military and political experience. Ralegh’s voice is moreover clearly discernible in his famously polemical Preface, sometimes now called ‘A Premonition to Princes’, especially the closing paragraph, which alludes to his aggrieved and imprisoned state. While James may have found the work objectionable on a number of counts, he is particularly likely to have taken exception to the passage in the Preface dealing with the perils of absolute monarchical authority, as well as to the description of Henry VIII as a ‘merciless prince’ (sig. A4v). According to John Chamberlain, The History was suppressed ‘for diverse exceptions, but specially for being too saucy in censuring princes’; James later wrote to Sir Robert Carr of ‘Sir Walter Ralegh’s description of the kings that he hates, of whom he speaketh but evil’ (see Chamberlain, 1939, 1.568; C. Williams, 1934, 221). Ralegh was not wrong when he remarked wryly in The History that ‘whoever in writing a modern history shall follow truth too near the heels, it may haply strike out his teeth’ (sig. C4v). Yet the calling-in of The History appears either to have been ineffective or imperfectly enforced. Remaining copies were sold off after Ralegh’s temporary release from the Tower in 1616, and the controversy did not prevent Stansby and Burre from releasing the work again in 1617 in a reprint which followed the first edition page for page except for an inserted leaf in the preliminaries and some altered catchwords (see Racin, 1964, 205). No effort was made to conceal Ralegh’s identity in this second edition, which named him on the title-page and included his portrait.
The precise nature and degree of assistance Ralegh received from Jonson and others while preparing The History remains a matter for debate. Certainly Ralegh would himself have been capable of writing the story of the mercenaries’ war, and he made extensive use of Polybius elsewhere in The History (Racin, 1974, 21). He was a voracious reader and an accomplished scholar of classical, patristic, medieval, and rabbinical works. His political, military, and commercial achievements regularly inform his discussion, and he enjoyed the advantage (if such it can be called) of ‘an eleven years’ leisure’ (sig. C4v) enforced by incarceration. He was permitted to employ secretaries and amanuenses, and had access to books. At the same time, however, a magisterial project like The History could not have been written unaided. Like many contemporary chroniclers, including Holinshed, Ralegh relied heavily on existing accounts by Greek and Roman historians, Old Testament historiography, and numerous Catholic and Protestant commentaries (Tennenhouse, 1981, 249). Although he was fluent in Latin and French, and probably read and spoke Italian and Spanish, Ralegh knew little Greek or Hebrew. He depended upon Latin translations of Greek writers, and admitted that he ‘borrowed the interpretation of [divers Hebrew words]’ (sig. C4) from learned friends. Ralegh seems indeed to have enlisted the help of several associates, including the lawyer, scholar, and poet John Hoskyns, Sir Robert Cotton, from whom he borrowed books; and Thomas Harriot, whom he consulted on geographical, chronological, and mathematical questions (Racin, 1974, 5 and 21-3). The widow of Robert Burhill, Ralegh’s chaplain, claimed to John Aubrey that her late husband was responsible for ‘all or the greatest part of the drudgery of [Ralegh’s] book, for criticisms, chronology, and reading of Greek and Hebrew authors’ (see Bodleian Library, Oxford, MS. Wood F. 39, fol. 206v; Racin, 1974, 24-5). Jonson was probably among Ralegh’s visitors in the Tower, though scholars remain divided over the extent of his involvement.
The historian Charles Firth observed in 1918 that the revolt of the mercenaries against Carthage would have had a particular appeal to a dramatist. He therefore surmised that Ralegh had accepted some help from Jonson at this point, contending nonetheless that Ralegh had made some alterations to Jonson’s contribution. Firth’s attribution to Jonson of the first and third sections of Book 5, Chapter 2, was accepted by both G. Gregory Smith in his 1919 biography of Jonson and by Herford and Simpson in the first volume of the Oxford edition of Jonson’s works (Centerwall, 2000, 545). In a recent article, however, Brandon S. Centerwall observes that although Firth’s ideas were reproduced by Herford and Simpson in 1925, by the time they came to publish Jonson’s prose works in 1947 ‘it had become obvious that their vote of confidence had not been seconded’ (546). Centerwall retains the theory that ‘The Mercenaries’ War’ (as he terms it) is from the pen of Jonson, though he argues that it was never intended for publication. He suggests that Jonson had ‘shaped his notes into an essay and presented it as a private gift to Ralegh’, which he was then ‘presumably both surprised and irritated’ to find printed without attribution in The History (546, 553). Centerwall therefore contends that ‘The Mercenaries’ War’ does what no other example of Jonson’s writing can: ‘it takes us into Jonson’s workshop… [where] we can watch the master as he goes through the initial steps of adapting his historical material to the stage’ (553). Comparing ‘The Mercenaries’ War’ with its source in Polybius, Centerwall argues that the former expands its classical precedent, filling out the characters of the main protagonists and injecting dramatic urgency into the narrative. His argument, while at times speculative, lays the groundwork for a reconsideration of Jonson’s contribution.
In the opposing camp, Charles G. Salas has recently taken issue with Firth’s attributions, arguing that Book 5 of The History ‘is Ralegh’s most mature historical writing’, and that it contains pointed references to the politics of his own age (Salas, 1996, 195-9). His discussion of this section of The History regards it as the product of a unified vision that consistently reveals Rome in a problematic light. This representation of Rome, Salas contends, is a quasi-allegorical reflection of the Jacobean regime responsible for Ralegh’s incarceration in the Tower. Although Salas acknowledges Ralegh’s connections with Jonson, he disputes Firth’s claims for Jonson’s authorship on the grounds that ‘the hostility there to the Roman Republic is not what we would expect from Jonson’. While he allows that the first section of Chapter 2 contains ‘an unusually long oration based loosely on Polybius but with no real counterpart in the sources’, Salas points to another ‘imaginative oratio recta also based upon Polybius’ in a later section of The History (Book 5, Chapter 3, Section 19) which may be attributed more securely to Ralegh. He also points out the use of the present tense in the first section, ‘a distinctive rhetorical strategy employed elsewhere in The History’, which suggests Ralegh’s style more clearly than Jonson’s (Salas, 1996, 210).
Ultimately, both Salas’s and Centerwall’s arguments are speculative and interpret the same evidence to opposite ends. The later publication in quarto of the sections of The History thought to be Jonson’s does nevertheless lend support to Centerwall’s hypothesis that a manuscript version may have been circulating independently from the various printed editions. A Notable and Memorable Story of the Cruel War between the Carthaginians and their Own Mercenaries (1647) departs in several respects from the text which appears in all earlier editions of The History. As well as omitting Ralegh’s general discussion of mercenaries, A Notable and Memorable Story appears without chapter divisions, introduces new paragraph breaks, and omits a long footnote dealing with the history and location of the city of Utica. Perhaps more significantly, two portions of text are missing. The first is a moralising passage of some seventeen lines relating to the inclination of wrongdoers to commit greater offences if they believe themselves beyond hope of pardon (1614, sig. 5K3). The second, longer passage is a fifty-three line digression on the practice of employing two generals in one army ‘the better to restrain the ambition of anyone’ (1614, sigs. 5K3v-4). Perhaps the compositor of A Notable and Memorable Story was working from an earlier edition of The History, in which case these two passages, particularly the first dealing with ‘the errors of Princes and Governors’, may have been excised in the politically volatile climate of 1647. But it is also possible that A Notable and Memorable Story was set from an independent manuscript source containing only Jonson’s own shorter version of the text. The missing passage dealing with the employment of generals has indeed previously been identified as Ralegh’s brief interpolation into a contribution which otherwise appears Jonsonian (Firth, 1938). Short of finding a Jonson holograph annotated by the hand of Ralegh, however, we will never know for certain the depth of Jonson’s contribution or the degree of alteration it received at the latter’s hand.
THE HISTORY OF THE WORLD
At London Printed for WALTER
BVRRE
1614
[ . . . ]
[p. 309]
THE FIRST PART
OF
THE HISTORIE OF THE WORLD:
intreating to the times
from
the setled rule of Alexanders
Successors
in the East, vntill the Romans,
preuailing
ouer all, made Conquest of Asia and
macedon.
THE FIFT BOOKE.
[ . . . ]
[p. 371, sig.
5H6r]
CHAP. II.
Of diuers actions paβing
betweene the first and second
Punick
Warres.
§. I.
Of the cruell
warre begunne betweene the Carthaginians and their owne
Mercinaries.
THE Romans, hauing partly by force, and partly by composition, thrust the Carthaginians out of Sicil, and all the little Ilands thereunto adjacent, gaue them rather meanes and leisure to helpe themselues in a following warre, than cause to hold themselues contented with the present peace. It is a true rule, Quòd leges à victoribus dicuntur, accipiuntur à victis; That lawes are giuen by the Conquerers, and receiued of the conquered. But the Romans had either forgotten the answer that was made vnto them, by one of the Priuernates; or else had forgotten to follow it, in this waightie businesse. For when one of Priuernum, after a rebellion, defending in the Senate the cause of his Citie, was demanded by a Senator; What peace the Romans might hope for, or assure themselues of, if they quitted their present aduantage ouer them; he answered in these wordes, Si bonam dederitis, & fidam & perpetuam; si malam, haud diuturnam; If the peace be good and faithfull that you giue vs, it will be perpetuall; if it be ill, then of little continuance. To this answere, the Senate, at that time, gaue such approbation, that it was said, Viri & liberi vocem auditam; an credi posse, vllum populum, aut hominem deniq[ue] in ea conditione, cuius eum poenitcat, diutius quàm necesse sit mansurum? That it was the speech of a manly, and a free man; for who could beleeue, that any people; or indeede any one man, would continue longer in an ouer-burdened estate, than meere neceβitie did enforce? Now if the Romans themselues could make this judgement, of those Nations, who had little else, besides their manly resolution, to defend their libertie; surely, they grosly flattered themselues, in presuming, that the Carthaginians, who neither in power nor in pride, were any way inferiour vnto themselues, would sit downe any longer by the losse and dishonour receiued than vntill they could recouer their legs, and the strength, which had a while failed them, to take reuenge. But Occasion, by whom (while well entertained) not only priuate men, but Kings and publique States, haue more preuailed, than by any proper prowesse or vertue; [p. 372] with-held the tempest from the Romans for a time, and turned it most fearefully vpon Africa, and the Carthaginians themselues.
For after that the first Punick Warre was ended; Amilcar, leauing Eryx, went to Lilybaeum, from whence most conueniently the Armie might bee transported into Africk: the care of which businesse he committed vnto Gesco, to whom, as to a man of approued sufficiencie, he deliuered ouer his charge. Gesco had an especiall consideration of the great summes, wherein Carthage was indebted vnto these Mercinaries; and, withall, of the great disabilitie to make paiment. Therefore he thought it the wisest way, to send them ouer (as it were) by handfulls, a few at a time; that so the first might haue their dispatch, and be gone, ere the second or third Companies arriued. Herein hee dealt prouidently. For it had not beene hard to perswade any small number, lodged within so great a Citie as Carthage, vnto some such reasonable composition, as the present emptinesse of the common Treasurie did require: so that the first might haue beene friendly discharged, and a good president left vnto the second and third, whilest their disiunction had made them vnable to recouer their whole due by force. But the Carthaginians were of a contrarie opinion. They thought to find, in the whole Armie, some that would be contented to gratifie the Publique state, by remitting a great part of their owne due: and hoped by such an example, to draw all the multitude to the like agreement and capitulation. So they detayned the first and second commers; telling them, they they would make an euen reckoning with all together. Thus euery day the number increased, and many disorders (a thing incident among Souldiers) were committed; which much disquieted the Citie, not accustomed vnto the like. In this regard it was thought fit, to remoue them all to some other place where they might be lesse troublesome. This must be done by some colourable wordes of perswasion: for their number was alreadie so great, that it was not safe to offend them too farre. Wherefore it is deuised, that they should all attend the comming of their fellowes, at Sicca: receiuing euery one a peece of gold, to beare his charges in the meane while. This motion is accepted, and the Souldiers beginne to dislodge; leauing behinde them their wiues, their children, and all their baggage, as meaning shortly to fetch away all, when they came back for their pay. But the Carthaginians haue no fancie to their returning into the Towne; and therefore compell them to trusse vp their fardells, that they might haue none occasion left, to make any errands thither. So to Sicca they remoued, with all their goods; and there lay waiting for newes of their fellowes arriuall, and their owne pay. Businesse they had none to doe, and therfore might easily be drawne to mutinie: the whole argument of their discourse inclining them to nothing else. Their daily talke was, how rich they should be, when all their monie came in; how much would fall to euery single share; and for how long time the Citie was behinde hand with them in reckoning. They were all growne Arithmeticians; and he was thought a man of worth, that could finde most reason to increase their demands, to the very highest, euen beyond their due. No part of their long seruice was forgotten; but the comfortable wordes and promises of their Captaines, leading them forth to any dangerous fight, were called to minde, as so many obligations, not to be cancelled, without satisfying their expectation by some vnordinarie largesse.
Thus the time passeth away; vntill the whole Armie being arriued, and lodged in Sicca, Hanno comes thither to cleare the accompt. Now is the day come, wherein they shall all be made rich; especially if they can hold together, in maintaining stoutly the common cause. So thinke they all; and assemble themselues to heare what good newes this messenger had brought: with a full resolution to helpe his memorie in case he should happen to forget any part of the many promises made vnto them; all which were to be considered in their Donatiue. Hanno begins a verie formall Oration; wherein he bewailes the pouertie of Carthage; tells them, how great a summe of mony is to be paid vnto the Romans; reckons vp the excessiue [p. 373] charges, whereat the common-wealth had beene in the late warre; and finally desires them to hold themselues contented with part of their pay, and out of the loue which they bare vnto the citie, to remit the rest. Few of them vnderstood his discourse: for the Carthaginian Armie was composed of sundry Nations, as Greekes, Africans, Gaules, Ligurians, Spaniards, and others, all of different languages. Yet they stared vpon him, and were (as I thinke) little pleased with his very gesture. But when such, as conceiued the whole tenour of his speach, had informed the rest what cold comfort hee brought; they were all inraged, and fared like mad men so that nothing would serue to appease them. Hanno would faine haue asswaged their furie, but he knew not how: for hee lesse vnderstood their dissonant lowde noises, than they did his Oration. An Armie collected out of many countries, that haue no one language common to all, or to the greater part of them, is neither easily stirred vp to mutinie, nor easily pacified, when once it is broken into outrage. The best that Hanno can doe, is to vse the helpe of Interpreters, and messengers. But these Interpreters mistake his meaning; some, for want of skill; others, of set purpose; and such as deliuer his errandes in the worst sense, are best beleeued. Finally, they thinke themselues much abused, by the Carthaginians, and resolue to demaund their owne, in peremptorie termes, at a nearer distance. In this moode they leaue Sicca, and march as farre as Tunis, that is within a little of Carthage, and there they incampe.
Now begin the Carthaginians, to finde their owne errour. It is a good rule,
Curandum inprimis, ne magna iniuria fiat
Fortibus & miseris:
Haue speciall care, that valiant pouerite
Be not opprest with too great iniurie.
But this proude citie, hauing neglected the rule, hath also beene carelesse in prouiding to secure her selfe against the inconuenience that might followe. She had suffered the whole multitude, whereunto shee was like to giue cause of discontent, to ioyne it selfe into one bodie, when the seuerall troupes might easily haue beene dispersed: shee hath turned out of her gates the wiues, children, and goods of these poore men, which had shee retained in shewe of kindnesse, shee might haue vsed them, as Hostages, for her owne safetie; and by imploying a miserable pennie-father, in her negotiation with men of warre, shee hath weakened the reputation of her brauest Captaines, that might best haue serued to free her from the threatning danger. Yet likely enough it is, that Amilcar had no desire to be vsed as an instrument in defrauding his owne souldiours of their wages: especially considering, that as he best could beare witnesse of their merits, so was hee not ignorant, that meanes to content them were not wanting, if the Citizens had beene willing thereunto. Hereto may be added a probable coniecture, that Hanno, with his complices, who at this very time was a bitter enemie to Amilcar, had the boldnesse to impose the blame of his owne wretched counsaile, vpon the liberall promises made by the Captaines Amilcar therefore did wisely, in suffering those that maligned him, to haue the managing of their own plot, and to deale the cards which themselues had shuffled. This they continue to doe as foolishly, as they had at first begunne. They furnish a market at Tunis, for the souldiours; whom they suffer to buy what they list, and at what price they list. They send euer and anone some of their Senatours into the Campe; who promise to satisfie all demands, as farre foorth as it should be possible. And thus, by shifting from one extreame to another, they make the souldiours vnderstand, into what feare the city was driuen; which cannot but adde much insolencie to the passions alreadie stirred vp.
This sudden change of weather, and the true cause of it, is quickly found by the [p. 374] Armie, which thereupon growes wise, and finding the season fit, labours to make a great harvest. Monie must be had, and without any abatement. This is granted. Many haue lost their horses, in publique seruice of the state. The state shall pay for them. They had liued some yeares, by making hard shift, without receiuing their allowance of victualls from Carthage. If they had liued, they wanted not meat; therefore what was this to the Carthaginians? Was it not all one, whether the ships did bring in prouision; or their Captaine direct them where to fetch it? But this would not serue. They said that they had beene sometimes driuen to buy; and that (since they could not remember, how much, or at what rate they bought) they would be paid for their prouision, during the whole time, and according to the dearest price that wheat had borne, whilest the warre lasted. Such are now the demands of these Mutiners; who might easily haue beene satisfied with farre lesse charges, and farre more honour, by receiuing their due at the first. But now they make none end of crauing. For whilest the Carthaginians are perplexed, about this corne-monie; the Souldiers haue deuised many more tricks, whereby to extort a greater summe of monie, without all regard of shame. Since therefore no good end could bee found of these controuersies, which daily did multiply, it was thought conuenient, that one of the Carthaginians, which had commanded in Sicil, should be chosen by the Souldiers, to reconcile all differences. Hereunto the Armie condescended, and made choice of Gesco: partly out of good liking to him, who had shewed himselfe at all times a friendly man to them, and carefull of their good, especially when they were to be transported into Africk: partly out of a dislike which they had conceiued of Amilcar; for that hee had not visited them in all this busie time. So Gesco comes among them; and, to please them the better, comes not without monie: which might giue better countenance to his proceedings, than barren eloquence had done to the negotiation of Hanno. Hee calles vnto him first of all, the Captaines, and then, the seuerall Nations apart; rebuking them gently for that which had passed; aduising them temperately concerning the present; and exhorting them to continue their loue vnto the State, which had long entertained them, and would alwaies be mindfull of their good seruices. After this he beganne to put hand to his purse: offering to giue them their whole paie in hand; and then after to consider of other reckonings, at a more conuenient time. This had beene well accepted, and might haue serued to bring all to a quiet passe; if two seditious ring-leaders of the multitude had not stood against it.
There was in the Campe one Spendius, a sturdie fellowe, and audacious, but a slaue; that in the late warre had fled from a Roman whome hee serued, and therefore stood in feare, lest hee should be deliuered backe to his Master; at whose hands hee could expect no lesse, than to be whipt and crucified. This wretch could finde no better way to prolong his owne life, than by raising such troubles, as might serue to withdrawe men from care of priuate matters, and make his owne restitution impossible, were his Master neuer so importunate. With Spendius there associated himselfe one Matho; an hote-headed man, that had been so forward in stirring vp the tumult, as hee could not choose but feare, lest his owne death should bee made an example, to deterre others from the like seditious behauiour. This Matho deales with his countrimen, the Africans; telling them, that they were in farre worse condition, than either the Gaules, the Greekes, the Spaniards, or any forreyne mercinaries. For (saith he) these our companions haue no more to doe, than to receiue their wages, and so get them gone; but wee, that are to stay behinde in Africa shall bee called to another manner of accompt, when wee are left alone; so that wee shall haue cause to wish, that wee had returned home beggars, rather than loaden with the monie, which (little though it be) shall breake our backes. Yee are not ignorant, how tyrannically these our haughtie Masters of CARTHAGE doe reigne ouer vs. They thinke it reasonable, that our liues and goods should bee at their disposition; which they haue at other times beene accustomed to take away from vs, euen without apparent cause, as it were to [p. 375] declare their Souereigntie: what will they now doe, seeing that we haue demeaned our selues as free men, and beene bold to set a good face on the matter, demanding our owne, as others haue done? Ye all doe knowe, that it were a very shame for vs, if hauing beene as forward in euerie danger of warre, as any other men, we should now stand quaking like slaues, and not dare to open our mouthes, when others take libertie to require their due. This notwithstanding yee may assure your selues, that we are like to be taught better manners, as soone as our fellowes are gone: in regard of whom they are contented to shadow their indignation with a good, but a forced countenance. Let us therefore be wise; and consider, that they hate and feare vs. Their hatred will shew it selfe, when their feare is once past: vnlesse wee now take our time, and, whilst we are the stronger, enfeeble them so greatlie, that their hatred shall not be able to doe vs wrong. All their strength consisteth in monie, wherewithall they haue hired others against vs, and vs against others. At the present they haue neither monie nor friends. The best Armie that euer serued them, whereof wee are no small part, lies at their gates, readie to helpe vs if we be men. A better opportunitie cannot be expected: for were our swords once drawne, all AFRICK would rise on our side. As for the CARTHAGINIANS, whether can they send for helpe? The case it selfe is plaine: but we must quickely resolue. Either we must preuent the diligence of GESCO, by incensing these GAVLES and SPANIARDES, and procuring them to draw blood; or else it behoueth vs to please our good masters, by ioyning with them against our fellowes, yea by offering to forgiue vnto them all our wages, if so (peraduenture) they may bee wonne to forgiue vs, or not ouer-cruelly to punish our faults alreadie committed. He is worthily a wretched slaue, that neither hath care to winne his Masters loue, nor courage to attempt his owne libertie.
By such perswasions Matho winnes the African souldiers to his owne purpose. They are not now so greedie of monie, as of quarrell; which hee that seekes will not misse to finde. When Gesco therefore offered to pay them their whole stipend presently, but referred their other demandes, for horses and victuailes, to some other more conuenient time; they breake into great outrage, and say that they will haue all, euen all at once, and that out of hand. In this tumult, the whole Armie flocke together about Matho and Spendius; whose diligence is not wanting, to adde more fuell to the fire alreadie blazing. Matho and Spendius are the onelie men to whom the souldiours will hearken: if any other stand vp to make a speach, a showre of stones, flying about his eares, puts him to silence, that hee shall neuer afterwards speake word more. Neither stay they to consider what it is that any man would say: enough hath beene saide alreadie by these good spokesmen; so that no other word (though perhaps to the same purpose) can bee heard, saue onely throwe, throwe.
Now the Rebellion beginnes to take forme. Matho and Spendius are chosen Captaines; who, follwed by a desperate crew of Ruffians, will suffer no man to make his owne peace, but pursue their owne ends, vnder faire pretence of the common cause. All which notwithstanding, Gesco is not wanting to the good of his countrie, but aduentures himselfe vpon their furie. One while hee deales with the Captaines, and other principall men; taking them by the hand, and giuing gentle wordes: another while he workes with the seuerall Nations; putting them all in hope of their owne hearts desire, if any reason would content them. None of them are so sullen, as the Africans: indeed none of them had so good cause. They require him peremptorilie, to giue them their owne, and not to feed them with wordes. The truth is, that they are not so couetous as they seeme: but will be more glad of an ill answere, than of a good paiment. This is more then Gesco knowes: he sees not that Matho hath any more than bare words, to bestow vpon them. Wherefore, as rebuking their inconsiderate heat, he telles them, That they may doe well, if they stand in want of monie, to seeke it of their Captaine, Matho. This is enough. Shall he both defraud them and deride them? They stay no longer, but lay violent hands vpon the treasure that he had brought; yea vpon him also, and al that are with him: [p. 376] as intending to take this in part of paiment, and, for the rest, to take another course. Matho and Spendius are glad of this. It had little pleased them to see their fellowes beginne to grow calme, by his faire language: wherefore they cast into bonds both him, and all the Carthaginians, that they can finde; that so the Armie may be freed from danger of good admonition, which they call Treason. After this followes open warre. Matho sollicites all Africk; and his Embassadours are euerie where well entertained. Neither is it needefull to vse perswasion: the verie fame of this rebellion sufficeth to drawe the whole countrie into it. Now must the Carthaginians bee plagued for those oppressions, with which they haue plagued others. It is true that aduersitie hath neuer beene vntold of her errours: and as she is euer assured to heare her owne, so commonly with her owne shee vndergoes those of other men. The Africans, finding the Carthaginians hang vnder the wheele, tell them boldly, that their Impositions were mercilesse; that they tooke from them the one halfe of their corne, that they doubled their tributes in all things else; and that they inflicted vpon their vassals the greatest punishments for the least offences. These cruelties the Carthaginians themselues haue forgotten: but the people, that haue suffered so much, retaine all in perfect memorie. Wherfore not onely such as can beare armes, are readie to doe seruice in this great Commotion; but the verie women bring forth their iewels, and other ornaments, offering all to sale for maintenance of so iust a quarrell. By this great forwardnesse, and liberall contribution, Matho and Spendius are supplied with a strong aide of threescore and tenne thousand Africans: and are moreouer furnished with monie, not onely to satisfie the present appetite of their men, but sufficient to continue the warre begunne, though it should bee of long endurance.
[p. 386]
§III.
How the warre against the Mercinarie was diuerslie mannaged
by HANNO and
AMILCAR, with
variable successe. The bloodie counsailes of the
Mercinaries; and their finall destruction.
BEing now to returne vnto those Mercinaries, from whome I haue thus farre digressed, I cannot readilie find, by what name henceforth I should call them. They are no longer in pay with the Carthaginians; neither care they to pretend, that they seeke their wages alreadie due so that they are neither Mercinaries, nor Mutiners. Had they all beene subiects vnto Carthage, then might they iustly haue beene termed Rebels: but Spendius, and others, that were the principall part of them, ought none allegeance to that State, which they endeuoured to subuert. Wherefore I will borrowe the name of their late occupation, and still call them Mercinaries, as Polybius also doth.
[p. 387] These vsing the aduantage of their present strength, besieged* Vtica, and Hippagreta, Cities of great importance, as being seated vpon the westerne Hauen of Carthage, where it is diuided by a necke of land; Hippagreta standing inwards vpon the great Lake; Vtica further out vpon the Sea. Neither was the Campe at Tunes abandoned, which lay fitly to hinder the Carthaginians, from passing vp intothe countrie: for Matho and Spendius wanted not men, to followe the warre in all parts at once.
How the Carthaginians were amazed with this vnexpected perill, any man may conceiue. But the businesse it selfe awakes them hastilie. They are hardly prest on all sides; and therefore trauailed their braines to the vttermost, how to shake off these furious dogges from their shoulders, who sometimes by night, sometimes by day, came vnto the very walles of their Citie. In this exigent Hanno was made their Generall: who failed not in his accustomed diligence of making all good preparation: but had gotten together whatsoeuer was needefull, as well to relieue a Towne besieged, as to batter and assaile any place defended against him. With these prouisions, and with an hundred Elephants, he came to Vtica; so suddenlie that the enemies, as men surprised, forsooke their Trenches, and retired themselues vnto a rising peece of woody ground, where they might be safe against the violence of his beasts. Hanno, thinking that he had to doe with Numidians, whose custome was, after any losse, to flie two or three whole daies iournie off; presently entred the Towne; to shew himselfe, after this his victory. But these good fellowes, against whom he was to warre, had learned of Amilcar, to retire and to fight againe, many times in one day, as neede required. Therefore as soone as they perceiued, that he knewe not how to vse a victorie; they assailed their owne Campe, and with great slaughter, draue the Carthaginians out of it, forcing them to hide themselues within Vtica; and got possession of all the store, that Hanno had brought for the reliefe of the Towne. This bad beginning Hanno followed with suteable indiscretion: loosing the benefite of many faire opportunities, and suffering the enemies to take possession, of all the entrance from Carthage to the firme land.
The Carthaginians, perceiuing this, were exceedingly troubled, and did therefore let fall their shete anchor; sending to the field their great Captaine, Amilcar, whom they furnished with ten thousand foote of supply, and seuentie Elephants. Amilcar had worke enough to doe, before he should be able to meet with the enemie vpon equal ground. For besides other places of aduantage that the Mercenaries had occupied, Hanno had suffered them to winne the onely Bridge, by which the Riuer Macar, or Bagradas, was passable vnto those, that were to trauaile into the Continent. This Riuer had not many foords, nor those easie for a single man to get ouer: but vpon them all was kept such guard, as gaue to Amilcar little hope of preuailing in seeking way by force. As for the Bridge it selfe, Matho & his followers were there lodged: and had there built a Towne, wherein to lie commodiously, intentiue onely to the custodie thereof. But Amilcar had obserued, that the very mouth of Bagradas vsed to be sometimes cloyed with sand and grauell, that was driuen in by certaine customarie windes, and could not be driuen out againe, by force of that slow Riuer, till the wind falling, or changing, suffered the weight of the waters, to disburden their channell. Hereof he made vse; and taking his opportunitie, passed the Riuer; contrarie to all expectation, either of the enemie, or of his owne Citizens.
There was no need to bid Spendius looke about him, when once it was heard, that Amilcar was come ouer Bagradas: all the Mercenaries were troubled with the newes; knowing that they were no longer to deale with the improuident grauitie of Hanno, but with an able spirit, euen with their owne Master in the Art of Warre; whome they admired, though they hated him. But this feare was soone changed into presumption; when more than fifteene thousand of their owne societie, were come from Vtica; and other tenne thousand from the gard of the Bridge. Their [p. 388] Armie was farre greater, than that of Amilcar; and they were, in their owne iudgement, the better men, vpon which confidence, they resolued to charge him on all sides, and beate him downe, in despight of his worth and reputation. With this resolution they attended vpon him; watching for some aduantage; and still exhorting one another to play the men, and giue the onset. Especiallie they that followed him in the Rere, had a great minde to begin the fight; whereunto their promptnesse was such, as tooke from them their former circumspection: Amilcar held his way towards the Bridge, keeping himselfe on plaine grounds, that were fittest for the seruice of his Elephants, which hee placed in front of his Armie. Neither made hee shewe of any desire to fight, but suffered the rashnesse of his enemies to increase, till it should breake into some disorder. At length perceiuing, that with more boldnesse than good heed, they followed him so neare, as would bee little for their good, if hee should turne vpon them, he hastened his march, euen to such a pace, as made a shewe little differing from plaine flight. The Mercinaries presentlie fell vpon his skirts; beleeuing, that for feare of them he was readie to runne away. But whilest they confusedly, as in sudden opinion of victorie, were driuing at the heeles of those that had the Reare; Amilcar wheeled about, and met them in the face, charging them hotely, but in very good order, so that amazed with the apprehension of inexpected danger, they fled without making any resistance. In this ouerthrowe, there were six thousand of the Mercinaries slaine, and about two thousand taken; the rest fled; some to the Campe at Vtica; others to the Towne at the Bridge; whither Amilcar followed them so fast, that he wanne the place easily: the enemies being thence also fled vnto Tunes, as not hauing recollected their spirits to make it good.
The fame of this victorie, together with the diligence of Amilcar in pursuing it, caused many Townes reuolted, partly by feare, partly by force, to returne to their former obedience. Yet was not Matho wanting to himselfe, in this dangerous time. He sent about Numidia and Africk, for new supplies; admonishing the people, now or neuer to doe their best, for the recouerie of their freedome; hee perswaded Spendius, and Autaritus that was Captaine of the Gaules, to wait vpon Amilcar, and alwaies to keepe the higher grounds, or at least the foot of some hill, where they might be safe from the Elephants; and hee himselfe continued to presse the Towne of Hippagreta with an hard siege. It was necessarie for Amilcar, in passing from place to place, as his businesse required, to take such waies as there were: for all the countrie lay not leuell. Therefore Spendius, who still coasted him, had once gotten a notable aduantage of ground: the Carthaginians lying in a Plaine, surrounded with hilles, that were occupied by the Mercinaries, with their Numidian and African succours. In this difficultie; the fame of Amilcar his personall worth did greatly benefit his countrie. For Narauasus, a yong gentleman commanding ouer the Numidians, was glad of this occasion seruing to get the acquaintance & loue of so braue a man, which he much desired: and therefore came vnto Amilcar, signifying his good affection to him, with offer to doe him all seruice. Amilcar ioyfully entertained this friend; promised vnto him his owne daughter in marriage; and so wanne from the enemies two thousand horse, that following Narauasus turned vnto the Carthaginians side. With this helpe hee gaue battaile vnto Spendius wherein the Numidian laboured to approue his owne valour, to his new friend. So the victorie was great: for there were slaine ten thousand of Spendius his fellowes, and foure thousand taken prisoners, but Spendius himselfe, with Autaritus the Gaule, escaped to doe more mischiefe. Amilcar dealt very gently with his prisoners: pardoning all offences past, and dismissing as many, as were vnwilling to become his followers; yet with condition, that they should neuer more beare armes against the Carthaginians; threatning to take sharpe reuenge vpon all, that should breake this Couenant.
This humanitie was vehemently suspected by Matho, Spendius, and Autaritus, as [p. 389] tending to winne from them, the hearts of their souldiers. Wherefore they resolued to take such order, that not a man among them should dare, to trust in the good nature of Amilcar, nor to hope for any safetie, whilest Carthage was able to doe him hurt. They counterfeited letters of aduertisement, wherein was contained, that some of their companie, respectiue onely of their priuate benefit, and carelesse of the generall good, had a purpose to betraie them all vnto the Carthaginians, with whom they held intelligence; and that it was needfull, to looke well vnto Gesco, and his companions, whom these traitours had a purpose to enlarge. Vpon this Theme Spendius makes an Oration to the souldiours, exhorting them to fidelitie; and shewing with many words, that the seeming humanitie of Amilcar, toward some, was none other then a baite, wherewith to entrap them all at once together; as also telling them, what a dangerous enemie Gesco would prooue, if hee might escape their hands. While hee is yet in the midst of his tale; were lettets [sic] come, to the same purpose. Then steps forth Autaritus, and speakes his minde plainly: saying, that it were the best, yea the onely way, for the common safetie, to cut off all hope of reconciliation with Carthage; that if some were diuising to make their owne peace, it would goe hard with those, that had a care of the warre; that it were better to make an end of Gesco his life, than to trouble themselues with looking to his custodie; that by such a course euerie one should be ingaged in the present Action, as hauing none other hope left, than in victorie alone; finally, that such as would speake here against, were worthie to bee reputed Traitors. This Autaritus was in great credit with the souldiours, and could speake sundrie languages, in such sort that he was vnderstood by all. According to his motion therefore it was agreed, that Gesco, and all the other prisoners, should forthwith be put to horrible death, by torments, Neuerthelesse there were some, that for loue of Gesco, sought to alter this intended crueltie; but they were forthwith stoned to death, as a Document vnto others; and so the Decree was put in execution. Neither were they herewithall contented; but further ordained, that all Carthaginian prisoners which they tooke, should be serued in like sort: and that the subiects or friends of Carthage, should loose their hands, and so be sent home: which rule they obserued euer afterwards.
Of this crueltie I need say no more, then that it was most execrable feritie. As for the counsaile of vsing it, it was like vnto the counsaile of ACHILOPHEL; [sic] All Israel shall heare, that thou art abhorred of thy father; then shall the hands of all that are with thee, be strong. Such are the fruits of desperation. He that is past all hope of pardon, is afraid of his owne fellowes, if they bee more innocent; and to auoide the punishment of lesse offences, committeth greater. The cowardize of offenders, and the revengefull spirits of those that haue beene wronged, are breeders of this desperation: to which may be added, some deficiencie of Lawes, in distinguishing the punishments of malefactors, according to their decree of the seueral crimes. A coward thinkes all prouision too little, for his owne securitie. If PHOCAS be a coward (saide the Emperour MAVRITIVS) then is he murderous. To be stedfast and sure, in taking reuenge; is thought a point of honour, and a defensatiue against new iniuries. But wrongfully: for it is oposite to the rule of Christianitie; and such a qualitie discouered, makes them deadly enemies, who otherwise would haue repented, and sought to make amends, for the wrong done in passion. This was it, which wrought so much woe to the Carthaginians; teaching Matho, and his Africans, to suspect euen their gentlenesse, as the introduction to extreame rigour. Like vnto the errours of Princes and Gouernours, are the errours of Lawes. Where one and the same punishment, is awarded vnto the lesse offence, an vnto the greater, he that hath aduentured to robbe a man, is easily tempted to kill him, for his owne securitie.
Against these inconueniences, Mercie and Seueritie, vsed with due respect, are the best remedies. In neither of which Amilcar failed. For as long as these his own souldiours were any way likely to bee recalimed, by gentle courses; his humanitie [p. 390] was readie to inuite them. But when theywere transported with beastly outrage, beyond all regard of honestie and shame, he rewarded their villanie with answerable vengeance; casting them vnto wilde beasts, to be deuoured.
Vntil this time Hanno, with the Armie vnder his command, had kept himselfe apart from Amilcar, and done little, as may seeme, for that nothing is remembred of him, since his late losses. Neither was Amilcar sorie to want his helpe; as being able to doe better without him. But when the warre grewe to such extremitie, as threatned vtter ruine to the one or the other side: then was Hanno sent for, and came to Amilcar, with whom hee ioyned his forces. By this accesse of strength Amilcar was not enabled, to doe more than in former times: rather he could now performe nothing; such was the hatred betweene him and his vnworthie Colleague. The Townes of Vtica and Hippagreta, that had stood alwaies firme on the Carthaginian partie, did now reuolt vnto the enemie, murdering all the souldiours that they had in Garrison, and casting their bodies forth, without suffering them to be buried. The prouisions brought by sea, for maintenance of the Armie, were lost in foule weather: and Carthage it selfe stood in danger of being besieged, about which Matho and Spendius consulted, whilst one of the Carthaginian Generals did (as it were) binde the others hands.
It hath in all Ages beene vsed, as the safest course, to send forth in great Expeditions, two Generals of one Armie. This was the common practise of those two mightie Cities, Athens and Rome; which other States and Princes haue often imitated; perswading themselues, that great Armies are not so well conducted by one, as by two: who out of emulation to excell each other, will vse the greater diligence. They haue also ioyned two chiefe Commanders in equall commission, vpon this further consideration; the better to restraine the ambition of any one, that should be trusted with so great a strength. For heareof all Common-weales haue beene iealous, hauing beene taught by their examples, that haue made themselues Tyrants ouer those Cities and States that haue imployed them. In this point, the Venetians haue been so circumspect, as they haue, for the most part, trusted strangers, and not their owne, in all the warres which they haue made. It is true, that the equall authoritie of two commanding in chiefe, serueth well to bridle the ambition of one or both, from turning vpon the Prince or State that hath giuen them trust: but in mannaging the warre it selfe, it is commonly the cause of ill successe. In warres made neare vnto Rome it selfe, when two good friends were Consuls, or such two at least, as concurred in one desire of Triumph; which honor (the greatest of any that Rome could giue) was to be obtained by that one yeeres seruice; it is no meruaile, though each of the Consuls did his best, and referred all his thoughts vnto none other end than victorie. Yet in all dangerous cases, when the Consuls proceeded otherwise than was desired, one Dictator was appointed, whose power was neither hindered by any partner, nor by any great limitation. Neither was it indeed the manner, to send forth both the Consuls to one warre; but each went, whither his lot called him, to his owne Prouince; vnlesse one businesse seemed to require them both, and they also seemed fit to be ioyned in the administration. Now although it was so, that the Romans did many times preuaile with their ioynt Generals: yet was this neuer or seldome, without as much concord, as any other vertue of the Commanders. For their modestie hath often beene such, that the lesse able Captaine, though of equall authoritie, hath willingly submitted himselfe to the other, and obeyed his directions. This notwithstanding, they haue many times, by ordaining two Commaunders of one Armie, receiued great and most daungerous ouerthrowes; whereof in the second Punick warre wee shall finde examples. On the contrarie side, in their warres most remote, that were alwayes managed by one, they seldome failed to winne exceeding honour, as hereafter shall appeare. Now of those tenne Generals, which serued the Athenians at the Battaile of Marathon, it may truly be said, that had not their temper beene better, than the iudgment [p. 391] of the people that sent them forth, and had not they submitted thenselues to the conduction of Miltiades; their affaires had found the same successe which they found at other times, when they coupled Nicias and Alcibiades together in Sicil: the one being so ouer-warie, and the other so hastie, as all came to nought that they vndertooke; whereas Cimon alone, as also Aristides, and others, hauing sole charge of all, did their Countrie and Common-weale most remarkeable seruice. For it is hard to finde two great Captaines, of equall discretion and valour; but that the one hath more of furie than of iudgement, and so the contrarie, by which the best occasions are as often ouerslipt, as at other times many actions are vnseasonably vndertaken. I remember it well, that when the Prince of Condy was slaine after the Battaile of Iarnac, (which Prince, together with the Admirall Chastillon, had the conduct of the Protestant Armie) the Protestants did greatly bewaile the losse of the said Prince, in respect of his Religion, person, and birth; yet comforting themselues, they thought it rather an aduancement, than an hinderance to their affaires. For so much did the valour of the one, outreach the aduisednesse of the other, as whatsoeuer the Admirall intended to winne by attending the aduantage, the Prince aduentured to loose, by beeing ouer-confident in his owne courage.
But we need no better example, than of the Carthaginians in this present busines: who, though they were still sicke of their ill grounded loue to Hanno, and were vnwilling to disgrace him; yet seeing that all ranne towards ruine, through the discord of the Generals, committed the decision of their controuersies, vnto the Armie that serued vnder them. The iudgement of the Armie was, that Hanno should depart the Campe: which he did; and Hannibal was sent in his stead, one that would be directed by Amilcar; and that was enough.
After this, the affaires of Carthage began to prosper somewhat better. Matho and Spendius had brought their Armie neare vnto the Citie; and lay before it, as in a siege. They might well be bold, to hope and aduenture much; hauing in their Campe aboue fiftie thousand, besides those that lay abroad in Garrisons. Neuerthelesse, the Citie was too strong for them to winne by assault: and the entrance of victuailes they could not hinder, if any should bee sent in by friends from abroad.
Hieron, King of Syracuse, though during the warres in Sicil he assisted the Romans, and still continued in their Alliance, yet now sent succours to the Carthaginians: fearing their fall, and consequently his owne; because if no other State gaue the Romans somewhat to trouble their digestion, the Principalitie of Syracuse would soone be deuoured by them. The Romans also gaue them some slender assistance, and for the present refused good offers made vnto them by the Mercinaries. This they did, to shew a kinde of noble disposition; which was indeed but counterfeit, as the sequele manifestly proued, [sic]
Whilest Matho and his followers were busily pressing the Citie, Amilcar was as diligent, in waiting at their backes, and cutting off all that came to their supply: so that finding themselues more straightly beseiged by him, than Carthage was by them, they purposed to desist from their vaine attempt, and try some other course. Hereupon they issue into the field: where Spendius, and one Zarcas an African Captaine assisting the rebellion, take vpon them to finde Amilcar worke; leauing Matho in Tunis, to negotiate with their friends, and take a generall care of the businesse. The Elephants of Carthage, and horse of Narauasus, made Spendius fearefull to descend into the Plaines. Wherefore hee betooke himselfe to his former method of warre; keeping the mountaines, and rough grounds, or occupying the straightest passages, wherein the desperate courage of his men might shew it selfe, with little disaduantage. But Amilcar had more skill in this Art, than could bee matched by the labour of Spendius. Hee drew the enemie to many skirmishes; in all which the successe was such, as added courage to his owne men, and abated the strength and spirit of the Rebels. Thus he continued, prouoking them night and [p. 392] day: still intrapping some of them, and sometimes giuing them the ouerthrow in plaine battaile: vntill at length he got them into a straight, whence ere they should get out, he meant to take of them a good account. Their iudgement was enough, to perceiue their owne disaduantage: and therefore they had the lesse stomach to fight; but awaited for helpe from Tunis. Amilcar prudently foreseeing, that necessitie might teach them to dare impossibilities, vsed the benefit of their present feare, and shut them close vp with Trench and Rampart. There they waited miserably for succour, that came not: and hauing spent all their victuailes, were so pinched with hunger, that they fed vpon the bodies of their prisoners. This they suffered patiently, as knowing that they had not deserued any fauour from Carthage; and hoping, that their friends at Tunis would not be vnmindfull of them. But when they were driuen to such extremitie, that they were faine to deuoure their owne companions, and yet saw none appearance or likelihood of reliefe: their obstinacie was broken; and they threatned their Captaines with what they had deserued, vnlesse they would goe foorth to Amilcar, and seeke such peace as might begotten. So Spendius, Zarxas, and Autaritus, fell to consultation, wherein it was resolued, to obey the multitude, and yeeld themselues, if it were so required, vnto the death, rather than to perish by the hands of their owne companions. Hereupon they send to craue parle, which is granted; and these three come forth to talke with Amilcar in person. What they could say vnto him, it is hard to coniecture: yet by the conditions which Amilcar granted, it seemes that they tooke the blame vpon themselues, and craued pardon for the multitude. The conditions were, that the Carthaginians should choose, out of the whole number of these enemies, any ten whom they pleased, to remaine at their discretion; and that the rest should all be dismissed, each in his shirt, or in one single coate. When the peace was thus concluded; Amilcar told these Ringleaders, that he choose them presently, as part of the ten, and so commanded to lay hands on them: the rest hee forthwith went to fetch, with his whole Armie in order. The Rebels, who knew not that peace was concluded vpon so gentle articles, thought themselues betraied: and therefore amazedly ranne to armes. But they wanted Captaines to order them; and the same astonishment, that made them breake the Couenants of peace, whereof they were ignorant, gaue vnto Amilcar both colour of iustice, in accomplishing reuenge, and ease in doing the execution. They were all slaine: being fortie thousand, or more, in number.
This was a famous exploit: and the newes thereof, exceeding welcome to Carthage; and terrible to the reuolted Cities of Africk. Henceforward Amilcar, with his Narauasus and Hannibal, carried the warre from Towne to Towne, and found all places readie to yeelde: Vtica, and Hippagreta, onely standing out, vpon fear of deserued vengeance; and Tunes [sic.], being held by Matho, with the remainder of his Armie. It was thought fit to begin with Tunis, wherein lay the chiefe strength of the enemie. Comming before this Towne, they brought forth Spendius, with his fellowes, in view of the defendants, and crucified them vnder the walles; to terrifie those of his olde companions, that were still in armes. With this rigour the seige began; as if speedie victorie had beene assured. Hannibal quartered on that part of Tunis which lay towards Carthage; Amilcar on the opposite side: too farre asunder to helpe one another in sudden accidents; and therefore it behoued each, to be the more circumspect.
Matho from the walles beheld his owne destinie, in the miserie of his companion, and knew not how to auoide it otherwise, than by a cast at dice with fortune. So he brake out vpon that part of the Carthaginian Armie, that lay secure, as if all danger were past, vnder the command of Hannibal: and with so great and vnexpected furie he sallied, that after an exceeding slaughter, he tooke Hannibal prisoner; on whom, and thirtie the most noble of the Carthaginian prisoners, he presently reuenged the death of Spendius by the same torture. Of this Amilcar knew nothing [p. 393] till it was toolate; neither had he strength enough remaining, after this great losse, to continue the seige; but was faine to breake it vp, and remoue vnto the mouth of the Riuer Bagradas, where he incamped.
The terrour was no lesse within Carthage, vpon the fame of this losse; than had beene the ioy of the late great victorie. All that could beare armes, were sent into the field, vnder Hanno; whom, it seemes, they thought the most able of their Captaines suruiuing the late accidents of Warre. If there were any Law among them, forbidding the imployment of one sole Generall, neare vnto their Citie (for they are knowne to haue trusted one man abroad) the time did not permit, in this hastie exigent, to deuise about repealing it. But thirtie principall men are chosen by the Senate, to bring Hanno to Amilcars campe, and by all good perswasions to reconcile them. This could not be effected in one day. It nearly touched Amilcar in his honour, that the carelesnesse of Hannibal seemed to be imputed vnto him, by sending his enemie to moderate his proceedings. Neuerthelesse after many conferences the authoritie of the Senatours preuailed; Amilcar and Hanno were made friends; and thenceforth, whilest this warre lasted, Hanno tooke warning by Hannibals calamities, to followe good directions, though afterwards hee returned to his old and deadly hatred.
In the meane season Matho was come abroad; as meaning to vse the reputation of his late successe, whilest it gaue some life vnto his businesse. He had reason to doe as he did: but he wanted skill to deale with Amilcar. The skirmishes, and light exercises of warre, wherein Amilcar trained his Carthaginians, did so farre abate the strength, and withall diminish the credit of Matho, that he resolued to trie the fortune of one battaile: wherein either his desires should be accomplished, or his cares ended. To this conclusion the Carthaginians were no lesse prone, than Matho: as being wearie of these long troubles, and insupportable expences; confident in the valour of their owne men, which had approued it selfe in many trials; and well assured of Amilcar his great worth, whereunto the enemie had not what to oppose. According to this determination, each part was diligent in making prouision: inuiting their friends to helpe; and drawing foorth into the fielde, all that lay in Garrison.
The issue of this Battaile mght haue beene foretold, without helpe of witchchraft. Matho, and his followers, had nothing whereon to presume, saue their daring spirits, which had beene well cooled by the many late skirmishes, wherein they had learned how to runne away. The Carthaginians had reason to dare, as hauing often beene victorious: and in all points else they had the better of their enemies; especially (which is worth all the rest) they had such a commander, as was not easily to be matched in that Age. Neither was it likely, that the desire of libertie should worke so much, in men accustomed to seruitude; as the honour of their State would, in Citizens, whose future and present good lay all at once ingaged in the aduenture. So the Carthaginians wanne a great victorie, wherein most of the Africans their enemies were slaine; the rest fled into a Towne, which was not to be defended, and therefore they all yeelded; and Matho himselfe was taken aliue. Immediatly vpon this victorie, all the Africans that had rebelled, made submission to their old masters; Vtica onely, and Hippagreta stood out, as knowing how little they deserued of fauour. But they were soone forced, to take what conditions best pleased the victours. Matho and his fellowes were led to Carthage in triumph; where they suffered all torments that could be deuised, in recompence of the mischiefes which they had wrought in this warre. The warre had lasted three yeeres, and about foure moneths, when it came to this good end: which the Cathaginians, whose subiects did not loue them, should with lesse expence, by contenting their Mercinaries, haue preuented in the beginning.