023e - The War With Hannibal

Hello, and welcome to the History of Rome, episode 23e, The War with Hannibal. Though neither side was aware of it, the long war between Rome and Carthage was marching inexorably towards a final conclusion. For the Romans, the scourge of Hannibal seemed a virus they would never be able to purge from their body. Not strong enough to conquer the Romans, yet too strong to just be driven off, Hannibal had wrecked havoc in Italy for a decade, and there was no indication he would ever leave. The Fabian strategy of countering Hannibal's political moves without risking open battle was by now firmly entrenched. Even those commanders who broke from this tradition found themselves chasing after a ghost. Hannibal would never fight a battle not of his own devising, and stayed forever one step ahead of Roman pursuit.

Hannibal himself knew that things could not go on like this forever. The Carthaginian Senate was growing weary of the war. Supplies and reinforcements were produced in ever-shrinking amounts after ever more cajoling. If things kept going in this direction, Hannibal would find himself isolated in enemy territory abandoned by his country. It was fast turning into a replay of his father's war in Sicily. Hannibal could see the writing on the wall. He did not have the money or manpower to launch a decisive offensive, even if the shell-shocked Romans still went to bed in fear of the Carthaginian army pouring through the gates while they slept. But entering 207 BC, the eleventh year since Hannibal had left New Carthage for Italy, the Carthaginian commander still had hope of a successful conclusion. His brother Hasdrubal had left Spain after tangling with young Scipio, and was making his way across Gaul, through the Alps, and would soon be in Italy with an army of 30,000. If the two brothers were able to link up, they would form an army that could overrun anything the Romans sent against them.

The Romans were not ignorant of the threat they faced from this second invading army. When Hasdrubal passed into the Po Valley, he was immediately shadowed by two Roman legions, led by one of the consuls for the year, Marcus Livius. Livius kept to the high ground, not having enough troops to openly confront Hasdrubal, but hoping to at least forestall the Carthaginians if they attempted to move further south. Hasdrubal, knowing there was no army in the area who could match him, moved confidently through the Italian countryside, picking up Gallic allies and waiting for word from his brother on where to meet up.

The other consul for the year, Gaius Claudius Nero, was encamped with his army some 250 miles south, keeping watch on Hannibal. He knew that neither his army, nor Livius' in the north, could halt the movement of the Carthaginian armies they each shadowed, only if they were able to concentrate Roman force against one or the other, who they hoped to prevent the disaster of a combined Carthaginian army. So Nero made a snap decision and embarked on an incredibly risky adventure. Leaving a token force encamped to keep up appearances, he ordered the bulk of his army out in the middle of the night and force marched them north to link up with Livius and hopefully annihilate Hasdrubal before Hannibal caught wind of the plan. Roman luck held and Nero was able to close the 250-mile gap in a mere seven days, with his troops left behind tending multiple fires and manning round-the-clock guard duty so Hannibal would believe a full Roman army was still encamped. Nero linked up with Livius and marched his troops into his colleague's camp at night. Though the Romans tried to keep this arrival secret, word soon leaked to Hasdrubal of the numerically superior enemy he now faced and he attempted to withdraw, making his way along the Metaurus River. The two consular armies took off at once in pursuit and were soon able to trap Hasdrubal's tired army against the river. The battle that followed turned from an equal engagement into a rout when Nero led a portion of his troops around behind the Carthaginians and surprised their rear. Hasdrubal, knowing the end was near, charged at it in the middle of the battle and died fighting. The hope of a Carthaginian super-army died there on the banks of the Metaurus. Hannibal's last best hope to conquer the Romans died with it.

The Romans were ecstatic at the news. It was the first major battle in Italy the Romans had actually won. And to young Scipio, returning from his command in Spain, word of the victory was music to his ears. The high spirits of his countrymen and low threat level now posed by Hannibal produced the exact psychological environment Scipio needed to ensure a receptive audience for his plan of a North African invasion. In 205 BC, Scipio went before the Senate and pitched his idea. The time had come, he argued, to return to the original strategy abandoned at the outset of the war. The fight had to be taken to the Carthaginians. Hannibal would not be driven off by direct action. The only way to be rid of him was to attack Carthage and force the Carthaginian Senate to recall Hannibal to protect the mother city.

But Scipio was not without detractors in the Senate, chief amongst them old Marcus Fabius, now 70 years old. What Scipio pitched was the exact opposite of everything Fabius stood for. The old warhorse argued that with Hasdrubal's defeat, the Romans should stick with the limited objective of re-securing the Po Valley and continuing the war of attrition against Hannibal, that though lacking the flash of Scipio's bold plan, had proved so successful. Generational tensions played out, with Scipio accusing old Fabius of being too cautious and stuck in his ways, and Fabius reminding young Scipio that had it not been for caution, Rome would have fallen a decade earlier. But the aura of Scipio carried the day, and, with reservations attached, he was more or less given the go-ahead for his invasion.

The young Roman general embarked for Sicily, where he began to make his preparations, building a fleet and gathering troops. Of vital importance was a mission he assigned to Laelius, the naval commander who had been in Scipio's confidence at the siege of New Carthage. The most formidable part of the Carthaginian army everyone knew was the Numidian cavalry. They could not be matched in speed or skill, and as long as they remained in the opposing line, the legions would always be in danger. Scipio knew something of North African politics, though, and hoped to turn a clear weakness into an advantage. Laelius' mission was to sail to North Africa and turn the Numidians to the Roman side. The Numidians, you must understand, were not Carthaginians. They were a client state of Carthage, and had long chafed under Carthaginian rule. Though the leadership seemed more or less content to stick with Carthage, there was an undercurrent of dissatisfaction that always threatened to come to the surface. In North Africa, Laelius made contact with the exiled Numidian prince Massinissa, who had fought against Scipio in Spain, and confirmed that he was ready and willing to lead his followers in revolt, both against his own king and the Carthaginians. In the years to come, Massinissa would remain a staunch ally of Rome, matching in many ways the friendship of Hyrule. Certainly in longevity, a young man at the time of the Second Punic War, Massinissa would reign over Numidia for fifty years, nipping in the bud any trouble posed to the Romans from Africa.

Scipio sailed from North Africa in 203 BC, with a force of about 35,000. His aim was to end the war, or die trying. When the Romans landed, they immediately swept through the land west of Carthage, taking prisoners and sacking towns. Scipio had his eye on the major city of Utica, and in the autumn of 203 he besieged the city. The Carthaginians sent a massive army against Scipio, reportedly in excess of 70,000 troops, to drive the Romans off. Scipio prudently withdrew, and, to throw the Carthaginians off, he opened peace negotiations. While the talks commenced though, Scipio scouted his enemy and formulated a plan to beat them without having to take the field against a far larger army. The fake talks concluded, Scipio sent a portion of his troops back to Utica to feign a return to the siege. However, while the unsuspecting Carthaginians slept, content to arise the next morning and overwhelm the Roman pest, Scipio dispatched the bulk of his army towards the enemy camp. Under cover of darkness, they started fires all over the camp, and waited by the exits. The alarm was raised, and when the panicked soldiers came pouring out of the gates, they were slaughtered by the Romans. Those who were not killed by the Romans died in the fire. It was a horrible and bloody affair, but just like that, Scipio had destroyed most of the Carthaginian army in North Africa. The Carthaginians regrouped, however, and made one last go of it. But at a place called Great Plains, Scipio routed them, and Carthage found itself suddenly without an army in the field, not unlike the Romans had found themselves after Cannae so many years before.

At this point, the Carthaginian Senate was left with no choice. Hannibal had to be recalled. Envoys were sent to Italy in 202 to bring him back. With tears streaming from his one good eye, Hannibal reluctantly ordered his army to board the ship sent to retrieve them. After sixteen years, the death of his brothers, and an endless series of maneuvers designed to bring the Romans to their knees, he was being pulled out of Italy no closer to his goal than when he started. His life's work had been for naught. It was an exhausted and psychologically wounded Hannibal who returned to North Africa. He would fight bravely there, and no historian faults any of the decisions he made while battling Scipio. But clearly the imaginative genius who had so flummoxed the Romans early in the war was gone. All the vital energy was in the confident hands of Scipio, and both of them seemed to know it.

After his victories near the coast, and with the knowledge of Hannibal's return, Scipio did not make for Carthage, but rather marched inland. The interior of North Africa was hostile territory, not just for the Romans, but for the Carthaginians as well. The land was populated with subject people of dubious Carthaginian loyalty, but nonetheless they were a critical source of supplies for the city. Scipio hoped to draw Hannibal into unfriendly territory by threatening Carthage with starvation. Hannibal himself despaired at the situation. He had to make a move against Scipio, but the troops he had at his disposal were not even close to a match for the Romans. He had his corps of veterans, but the rest were recent recruits, ill-trained and passionless. He argued against leading such a weak army out, but was overruled by the Senate who ordered him to track down Scipio and defeat him, and, always the good soldier, Hannibal did as he was told. The two armies met at Zama, a hundred or so miles southwest of Carthage. Prior to any armed confrontation, the two great generals met. Hannibal attempted to secure a favorable peace, knowing his own troops were ill-equipped to deal with the Romans, but Scipio would have none of it. After acknowledging the respect each had for the other, they departed back to their own tents to prepare for the final battle.

Lining up in the morning, Hannibal placed his raw recruits in the front line with his veterans behind. This way, the new troops would have no place to run if they tried to retreat, and, if Hannibal was lucky, they would tire the legionaries out and allow the Carthaginian veterans to sweep through. He also placed his war elephants, the old Carthaginian juggernaut, at the head of the army, but Scipio was well prepared for the elephants and positioned his men so that lanes were open all the way through the lines. When the elephants charged, they passed by harmlessly. The battle begun. Rome scored a victory that had eluded them the entire war. Massinissa's allied Numidian cavalry was able to drive off their Carthaginian counterparts, suddenly leaving Hannibal, rather than the Romans, without support. Just as he predicted, the experienced Romans cut through Hannibal's new soldiers, but a total rout was prevented by the strength of his veterans who blunted the Romans' advance. The war hung in the balance as two of the greatest strategic and tactical geniuses in history oversaw an unimaginative clash of brute force. When the Roman cavalry returned to attack the Carthaginian rear, the battle turned decisively against Hannibal. His army was broken and the great Carthaginian general was forced to withdraw in defeat. The Battle of Zama was over. So too was the Second Punic War.

Carthage offered no further resistance and accepted punishing terms. While allowed to keep possessions in North Africa, the dream of a Carthaginian empire overseas was crushed and all holdings forfeited to the Romans. Carthage was not allowed to equip an army or a navy, nor allowed to engage in any hostilities with their neighbors without explicit Roman permission. For his loyalty, Massinissa was granted control over an independent Numidian kingdom that would be the dominant force in North Africa for years to come. Finally, a huge punitive fine was laid on Carthage to be paid off in no less than 50 years. In a final irony, it was Hannibal who put a stop to any call for further resistance and demanded that the Senate accept Roman terms. Carthage was defeated. There was nothing left to be said about it.

The Romans had paid an enormous price for their victory. The population of Rome declined by something like 17% over the course of the war and the treasury was all but empty. But they had won an immeasurably valuable prize, uncontested control of the entire western Mediterranean. The Roman Empire as we now know it, the greatest power in the ancient world and one of the farthest reaching land empires in history, was born on that day at Zama in 202 BC.

Some also claim, as I said at the outset of this series of episodes, that the victory over Carthage also marked the death of old Roman virtue. Certainly, there is much to be said for the theory that the Republic was not long for this world after Rome lost its greatest enemy. Over the course of the war, the power of the Senate had grown to far exceed the people's assemblies and democracy, such as it had existed, was a thing of the past. The Republic was now a true aristocratic oligarchy. The Senate was firmly in control of Rome and would be for the rest of the life of the Republic. But soon the egos of the foremost families in Rome began to grow unchecked and men emerged every day who had no truck with the old restraint shown by their forefathers. Scipio had inadvertently introduced the cult of personality to the Romans and the coming age of troubles would revolve around powerful men who put their own ambition above that of some withered sense of propriety. The Gracchi brothers, Marius, Sulla, Julius Caesar, Pompey, and finally Augustus would drive Roman politics in the coming years. They took their cues from Scipio, who was nearly deified in his lifetime, rather than the string of forgotten consuls who preserved tradition in anonymity. Further, these latter-day Roman leaders never dealt with the humility of facing an external threat that checked their boundless egos. Control of Rome now meant control of the whole world. What chance did the Republic have when absolute power was at stake?

I will be out of town next week, so we will leave the Romans here at the moment of their greatest triumph. Next time, in two weeks, we will enter a new era of Roman history as Rome looks east to the great civilizations of Greece. Contact with Greece would forever alter the character of the Romans, as they were introduced to the luxury, philosophy, art, and science of the East. The marriage of East and West would be proposed on the battlefield, but it would be consummated in the minds of the victorious Romans, who became open to ideas that would have made their frugal and virtuous ancestors shudder.