The army was now moving through the passes of the Pyrenees. The labour was great; no army had ever before crossed this mountain barrier; roads had to be made, streams bridged, and rocks blasted away, to allow the passage of the elephants and baggage wagons. Opinions have differed as to the explosives used by the Carthaginian miners, but it is certain that they possessed means of blasting rocks. The engineers of Hannibal's force possessed an amount of knowledge and science vastly in excess of that attained by the Romans at that time, and during the campaign the latter frequently endeavoured, and sometimes with success, by promises of high rewards, to induce Hannibal's engineers to desert and take service with them. A people well acquainted with the uses of sulphur and niter, skilled in the Oriental science of chemistry, capable of manufacturing Greek fire—a compound which would burn under water—may well have been acquainted with some mixture resembling gunpowder.
The art of making this explosive was certainly known to the Chinese in very remote ages, and the Phoenicians, whose galleys traversed the most distant seas to the east, may have acquired their knowledge from that people.
The wild tribes of the mountains harassed the army during this difficult march, and constant skirmishes went on between them and Hannibal's light armed troops. However, at last all difficulties were overcome, and the army descended the slopes into the plains of Southern Gaul.
Already Hannibal's agents had negotiated for an unopposed passage through this country; but the Gauls, alarmed at the appearance of the army, and at the news which had reached them of the conquest of Catalonia, assembled in arms. Hannibal's tact and a lavish distribution of presents dissipated the alarm of the Gauls, and their chiefs visited Hannibal's camp at Elne, and a treaty was entered into for the passage of the army.
A singular article of this treaty, and one which shows the esteem in which the Gauls held their women, was that all complaints on the part of the natives against Carthaginian troops should be carried to Hannibal himself or the general representing him, and that all complaints of the Carthaginians against the natives should be decided without appeal by a council composed of Gaulish women. This condition caused much amusement to the Carthaginians, who, however, had no cause to regret its acceptance, for the decisions of this singular tribunal were marked by the greatest fairness and impartiality. The greater part of the tribes through whose country the army marched towards the Rhone observed the terms of the treaty with good faith; some proved troublesome, but were wholly unable to stand against the Carthaginian arms.
The exact route traversed by the army has been a subject of long and bitter controversy; but, as no events of very great importance occurred on the way, the precise line followed in crossing Gaul is a matter of but slight interest. Suffice that, after marching from the Pyrenees at a high rate of speed, the army reached the Rhone at the point where Roquemaure now stands, a short distance above Avignon.
This point had been chosen by Hannibal because it was one of the few spots at which the Rhone runs in a single stream, its course being for the most part greatly broken up by islands. Roquemaure lies sixty-five miles from the sea, and it was necessary to cross the Rhone at some distance from its mouth, for Rome was now thoroughly alarmed, and Scipio, with a fleet and powerful army, was near Marseilles waiting to engage Hannibal on the plains of Gaul.
During the last few days' march no inhabitants had been encountered. The Arecomici, who inhabited this part of the country, had not been represented at the meeting, and at the news of the approach of the Carthaginians had deserted their country and fled across the Rhone, where, joined by the tribes dwelling upon the further bank, they prepared to offer a desperate opposition to the passage of the river. The appearance of this mass of barbarians, armed with bows and arrows and javelins, on the further side of the wide and rapid river which had to be crossed, was not encouraging.
“It was bad enough crossing the Pyrenees,” Malchus said to Trebon, “but that was nothing to this undertaking; it is one thing to climb a precipice, however steep, to the assault of an enemy, another to swim across at the head of the army under such a shower of missiles as we shall meet with on the other side.”
Hannibal, however, had prepared to overcome the difficulty. Messengers had been sent up and down the river to all the people living on the right bank, offering to buy from them at good prices every barge and boat in their possession, promising them freedom from all exactions and hard treatment, and offering good pay to those who would render assistance to the army in the passage. Hannibal's offers were accepted without hesitation. That the army, which could, had it chosen, have taken all their boats by force and impressed their labour, should offer to pay liberally for both, filled them with admiration, and they were, moreover, only too glad to aid this formidable army of strangers to pass out of their country.
The dwellers upon the Rhone at this period carried on an extensive commerce, not only with the tribes of the upper river, but with Marseilles and the ports of Spain and Northern Italy, consequently a large number of vessels and barges of considerable tonnage were at once obtained.
To add to the means of transport the whole army were set to work, and, assisted by the natives, the soldiers cut down trees, and, hollowing them out roughly, formed canoes capable of carrying two or three men. So industriously did the troops work that in two days enough canoes were made to carry the army across the river; but there was still the opposition of the natives to be overcome, and when the canoes were finished Hannibal ordered Hanno, one of his best generals, to start with a division at nightfall up the bank of the river.
Hanno marched five miles, when he found a spot where the river was smooth and favourable for the passage. The troops set to at once to cut trees; rafts were formed of these, and the troops passed over. The Spanish corps, accustomed to the passage of rivers, simply stripped, and putting their broad shields of hides beneath them, passed the river by swimming. Once across Hanno gave his men twenty-four hours' rest, and then, calculating that Hannibal's preparations would be complete, he marched down the river until he reached a hill, whose summit was visible from Hannibal's camp at daybreak. Upon this he lit a signal fire.
The moment the smoke was seen in the camp Hannibal gave orders for the troops to embark. The light infantry took to their little canoes, the cavalry embarked in the larger vessels, and, as these were insufficient to carry all the horses, a great many of the animals were made to enter the river attached by ropes to the vessels. The heavier craft started highest up, in order that they might to some extent break the roughness of the waves and facilitate the passage of the canoes.
The din was prodigious. Thousands of men tugged at the oars, the roughly made canoes were dashed against each other and often upset, while from the opposite bank rose loudly the defiant yells of the natives, prepared to dispute to the last the landing of the flotilla. Suddenly these cries assumed a different character. A mass of smoke was seen to rise from the tents of the enemy's camp, and Hanno's division poured down upon their rear. The Arecomici, taken wholly by surprise, were seized with a panic, and fled hastily in all directions, leaving the bank clear for the landing of Hannibal. The whole of the army were brought across at once and encamped that night on the river.
In the morning Hannibal sent off five hundred Numidian horse to reconnoitre the river below, and ascertain what Scipio's army, which was known to have landed at its mouth, was doing. He then assembled his army and introduced to them some chiefs of the tribes beyond the Alps, who had a day or two before arrived in the camp with the agents he had sent to their country. They harangued the soldiers, an interpreter translating their speeches, and assured them of the welcome they would meet in the rich and fertile country beyond the Alps, and of the alacrity with which the people there would join them against the Romans.
Hannibal himself then addressed the soldiers, pointed out to them that they had already accomplished by far the greatest part of their journey, had overcome every obstacle, and that there now remained but a few days' passage over the mountains, and that Italy, the goal of all their endeavours, would then lie before them.
The soldiers replied with enthusiastic shouts, and Hannibal, after offering up prayers to the gods on behalf of the army, dismissed the soldiers, and told them to prepare to start on the following day. Soon after the assembly had broken up the Numidian horse returned in great confusion, closely pressed by the Roman cavalry, who had been sent by Scipio to ascertain Hannibal's position and course. The hostile cavalry had charged each other with fury. A hundred and forty of the Romans and two hundred of the Numidians were slain.
Hannibal saw that there was no time to be lost. The next morning, at daybreak, the whole of his cavalry were posted to the south to cover the movements of the army and to check the Roman advance. The infantry were then set in motion up the bank of the river and Hannibal, with a small party, remained behind to watch the passage of the elephants, which had not yet been brought across.
The elephants had not been trained to take to the water, and the operation was an extremely difficult one. Very strong and massive rafts were joined together until they extended two hundred feet into the river, being kept in their place by cables fastened to trees on the bank above them. At the end of this floating pier was placed another raft of immense size, capable of carrying four elephants at a time. A thick covering of earth was laid over the whole, and on this turf was placed. The elephants were then led forward.
So solid was the construction that they advanced upon it without hesitation. When four had taken their place on the great raft at the end, the fastenings which secured it to the rest of the structure were cut, and a large number of boats and barges filled with rowers began to tow the raft across the river. The elephants were seized with terror at finding themselves afloat, but seeing no way of escape remained trembling in the centre of the raft until they reached the other side. When it was safely across, the raft and towing boats returned, and the operation was repeated until all the elephants were over.
Some of the animals, however, were so terrified that they flung themselves from the rafts into the river and made their way to shore, keeping their probosces above the surface of the water. The Indians who directed them were, however, all swept away and drowned. As soon as the elephants were all across Hannibal called in his cavalry, and with them and the elephants followed the army.
The Romans did not arrive at the spot until three days after the Carthaginians had left. Scipio was greatly astonished when he found that Hannibal had marched north, as he believed that the Alps were impassable for an army, and had reckoned that Hannibal would certainly march down the river and follow the seashore. Finding that the Carthaginians had left he marched his army down to his ships again, re-embarked them, and sailed for Genoa, intending to oppose Hannibal as he issued from the defiles of the Alps, in the event of his succeeding in making the passage.
Four days' march up the Rhone brought Hannibal to the point where the Isere runs into that river. He crossed it, and with his army entered the region called by Polybius “The Island,” although the designation is an incorrect one, for while the Rhone flows along one side of the triangle and the Isere on the other, the base is formed not by a third river, but by a portion of the Alpine chain.
Malchus and his band had been among the first to push off from the shore when the army began to cross the Rhone. Malchus was in a roughly constructed canoe, which was paddled by Nessus and another of his men. Like most of the other canoes, their craft soon became waterlogged, for the rapid and angry current of the river, broken and agitated by so large a number of boats, splashed over the sides of the clumsy canoes, which were but a few inches above the water. The buoyancy of the wood was sufficient to float them even when full, but they paddled slowly and heavily.
The confusion was prodigious. The greater part of the men, unaccustomed to rowing, had little control over their boats. Collisions were frequent, and numbers of the boats were upset and their occupants drowned. The canoe which carried Malchus was making fair progress, but, to his vexation, was no longer in the front line. He was urging the paddlers to exert themselves to the utmost, when Nessus gave a sudden cry.
A horse which had broken loose from its fastenings behind one of the barges was swimming down, frightened and confused at the din. It was within a few feet of them when Nessus perceived it, and in another moment it struck the canoe broadside with its chest. The boat rolled over at once, throwing its occupants into the water. Malchus grasped the canoe as it upset, for he would instantly have sunk from the weight of his armour. Nessus a moment later appeared by his side.
“I will go to the other side, my lord,” he said, “that will keep the tree from turning over again.”
He dived under the canoe, and came up on the opposite side, and giving Malchus his hand across it, there was no longer any fear of the log rolling over. The other rower did not reappear above the surface. Malchus shouted in vain to some of the passing boats to pick him up, but all were so absorbed in their efforts to advance and their eagerness to engage the enemy that none paid attention to Malchus or the others in like plight. Besides, it seemed probable that all, if they stuck to their canoes, would presently gain one bank or other of the river. Malchus, too, had started rather low down, and he was therefore soon out of the flotilla.
The boat was nearly in midstream when the accident happened.
“The first thing to do,” Malchus said when he saw that there was no chance of their being picked up, “is to rid myself of my armour. I can do nothing with it on, and if the tree turns over I shall go down like a stone. First of all, Nessus, do you unloose your sword belt. I will do the same. If we fasten them together they are long enough to go round the canoe, and if we take off our helmets and pass the belts through the chin chains they will, with our swords, hang safely.”
This was with some difficulty accomplished.
“Now,” Malchus continued, “let us make our way to the stern of the canoe. I will place my hand on the tree there, and do you unfasten the shoulder and waist straps of my breast and backpieces. I cannot do it myself.”
This was also accomplished, and the two pieces of armour laid on the tree. They were now free to look round. The rapid stream had already taken them half a mile below the point where the army were crossing, and they were now entering a spot where the river was broken up by islands, and raced along its pent up channel with greater velocity than before, its surface broken with short angry waves, which rendered it difficult for them to retain their hold of the tree.
For a time they strove by swimming to give the canoe an impetus towards one bank or the other; but their efforts were vain. Sometimes they thought they were about to succeed, and then an eddy would take the boat and carry it into the middle of the stream again.
“It is useless, Nessus,” Malchus said at last. “We are only wearing ourselves out, and our efforts are of no avail whatever. We must be content to drift down the river until our good luck throws us into some eddy which may carry us near one bank or the other.”
It was a long time, indeed, before that stroke of fortune befell them, and they were many miles down the river before the current took them near the eastern bank at a point where a sharp curve of the river threw the force of the current over in that direction; but although they were carried to within a few yards of the shore, so numbed and exhausted were they by their long immersion in the cold water that it was with the greatest difficulty that they could give the canoe a sufficient impulsion to carry it to the bank.
At last, however, their feet touched the bottom, and they struggled to shore, carrying with them the arms and armour; then, letting the canoe drift away again, they crawled up the bank, and threw themselves down, utterly exhausted. It was some time before either of them spoke. Then Malchus said:
“We had best strip off our clothes and wring them as well as we can; after that they will soon dry on us. We have no means of drying them here, so we must lie down among some bushes to shelter us from this bitter wind which blows from the mountains.”
The clothes were wrung until the last drop was extracted from them and then put on again. They were still damp and cold, but Malchus and his companion had been accustomed to be drenched to the skin, and thought nothing of this. They were still too exhausted, however, to walk briskly, and therefore lay down among some thick bushes until they should feel equal to setting out on the long tramp to rejoin their companions. After lying for a couple of hours Malchus rose to his feet, and issuing from the bushes looked round. He had resumed his armour and sword. As he stepped out a sudden shout arose, and he saw within a hundred yards of him a body of natives some hundred strong approaching. They had already caught sight of him.
“Nessus,” he exclaimed, without looking round, “lie still. I am seen, and shall be taken in a minute. It is hopeless for me to try to escape. You will do me more good by remaining hid and trying to free me from their hands afterwards.”
So saying, and without drawing his sword, Malchus quietly advanced towards the natives, who were rushing down towards him with loud shouts. Flight or resistance would be, as he had at once seen, hopeless, and it was only by present submission he could hope to save his life.
The natives were a portion of the force which had opposed Hannibal's landing, and had already killed several Carthaginians who had, like Malchus, struggled to the bank after being upset in the passage. Seeing that he attempted neither to fly nor to defend himself, they rushed upon him tumultuously, stripped him of his arms and armour, and dragged him before their leader. The latter briefly ordered him to be brought along, and the party continued their hurried march, fearing that the Carthaginian horse might at any moment pursue them. For the rest of the afternoon they marched without a halt, but at nightfall stopped in a wood.
No fires were lit, for they knew not how close the Carthaginians might be behind them. Malchus was bound hand and foot and thrown down in their midst. There was no sleep that night. Half the party remained on watch, the others sat together round the spot where Malchus lay and discussed the disastrous events of the day—the great flotilla of the Carthaginians, the sudden attack in their rear, the destruction of their camp, the capture of the whole of their goods, and the slaughter and defeat which had befallen them.
As their dialect differed but little from that of the Gauls in the Carthaginian service, Malchus was enabled to understand the greater part of their conversation, and learned that the only reason why he was not put to death at once was that they wished to keep him until beyond the risk of pursuit of the Carthaginians, when he could be sacrificed to their gods formally and with the usual ceremonies.
All the time that they were talking Malchus listened anxiously for any sudden outbreak which would tell that Nessus had been discovered. That the Numidian had followed on their traces and was somewhere in the neighbourhood Malchus had no doubt, but rescue in his present position was impossible, and he only hoped that his follower would find that this was so in time and would wait for a more favourable opportunity. The night passed off quietly, and in the morning the natives continued their march. After proceeding for three or four hours a sudden exclamation from one of them caused the others to turn, and in the distance a black mass of horsemen was seen approaching. At a rapid run the natives started off for the shelter of a wood half a mile distant. Malchus was forced to accompany them. He felt sure that the horsemen were a party of Hannibal's cavalry, and he wondered whether Nessus was near enough to see them, for if so he doubted not that he would manage to join them and lead them to his rescue.
Just before they reached the wood the natives suddenly stopped, for, coming from the opposite direction was another body of cavalry. It needed not the joyous shouts of the natives to tell Malchus that these were Romans, for they were coming from the south and could only be a party of Scipio's cavalry. The natives halted at the edge of the wood to watch the result of the conflict, for the parties evidently saw each other, and both continued to advance at full speed. The Roman trumpets were sounding, while the wild yells which came up on the breeze told Malchus that Hannibal's cavalry were a party of the Numidians.
The Romans were somewhat the most numerous; but, had the cavalry opposed to them consisted of the Carthaginian horse, Malchus would have had little doubt as to the result; he felt, however, by no means certain that the light armed Numidians were a match for the Roman cavalry. The party had stopped but a quarter of a mile from the spot where the rival bands met, and the crash of bodies driven violently against each other and the clash of steel on armour could be plainly heard.
For a few minutes it was a wild confused melee, neither party appearing to have any advantage. Riderless steeds galloped off from the throng, but neither party seemed to give way a foot. The whole mass seemed interlaced in conflict. It was a moving struggling throng of bodies with arms waving high and swords rising and falling. The Romans fought in silence, but the wild yells of the Numidians rose shrill and continuous.
At last there was a movement, and Malchus gave a groan while the natives around him shouted in triumph as the Numidians were seen to detach themselves from the throng and to gallop off at full speed, hotly followed by the Romans, both, however, in greatly diminished numbers, for the ground on which the conflict had taken place was thickly strewn with bodies; nearly half of those who had engaged in that short but desperate strife were lying there.
No sooner had the pursuers and pursued disappeared in the distance than the natives thronged down to the spot. Such of the Numidians as were found to be alive were instantly slaughtered, and all were despoiled of their clothes, arms, and ornaments. The Romans were left untouched, and those among them who were found to be only wounded were assisted by the natives, who unbuckled their armour, helped them into a sitting position, bound up their wounds, and gave them water.
Highly satisfied with the booty they obtained, and having no longer any fear of pursuit, the natives halted to await the return of the Romans. Malchus learned from their conversation that they had some little doubt whether the Romans would approve of their appropriating the spoils of the dead Numidians, and it was finally decided to hand over Malchus, whose rich armour proclaimed him to be a prisoner of importance, to the Roman commander.
The main body of the natives, with all the spoil which had been collected, moved away to the wood, while the chief, with four of his companions and Malchus, remained with the wounded Romans. It was late in the evening before the Romans returned, after having, as has been said, followed the Numidians right up to Hannibal's camp. There was some grumbling on the part of the Roman soldiers when they found that their allies had forestalled them with the spoil; but the officer in command was well pleased at finding that the wounded had been carefully attended to, and bade the men be content that they had rendered good service to the public, and that Scipio would be well satisfied with them. The native chief now exhibited the helmet and armour of Malchus, who was led forward by two of his men.
“Who are you?” the commander asked Malchus in Greek, a language which was understood by the educated both of Rome and Carthage.
“I am Malchus, and command the scouts of Hannibal's army.”
“You are young for such a post,” the officer said; “but in Carthage it is interest not valour which secures promotion. Doubtless you are related to Hannibal.”
“I am his cousin,” Malchus said quietly.
“Ah!” the Roman said sarcastically, “that accounts for one who is a mere lad being chosen for so important a post. However, I shall take you to Scipio, who will doubtless have questions to ask of you concerning Hannibal's army.”
Many of the riderless horses on the plain came in on hearing the sound of the Roman trumpets and rejoined the troop. Malchus was placed on one of these. Such of the wounded Romans as were able to ride mounted others, and a small party being left behind to look after those unable to move, the troops started on their way.
They were unable, however, to proceed far; the horses had been travelling since morning and were now completely exhausted; therefore, after proceeding a few miles the troop halted. Strong guards were posted, and the men lay down by their horses, ready to mount at a moment's notice, for it was possible that Hannibal might have sent a large body of horsemen in pursuit. As on the night before, Malchus felt that even if Nessus had so far followed him he could do nothing while so strong a guard was kept up, and he therefore followed the example of the Roman soldiers around him and was soon fast asleep.
At daybreak next morning the troops mounted and again proceeded to the south. Late in the afternoon a cloud of dust was seen in the distance, and the party presently rode into the midst of the Roman army, who had made a day's march from their ships and were just halting for the night. The commander of the cavalry at once hastened to Scipio's tent to inform him of the surprising fact that Hannibal had already, in the face of the opposition of the tribes, forced the passage of the Rhone, and that, with the exception of the elephants, which had been seen still on the opposite bank, all the army were across.
Scipio was greatly mortified at the intelligence, for he had deemed it next to impossible that Hannibal could carry his army across so wide and rapid a river in the face of opposition. He had little doubt now that Hannibal's intention was to follow the Rhone down on its left bank to its mouth, and he prepared at once for a battle. Hearing that a prisoner of some importance had been captured, he ordered Malchus to be brought before him. As the lad, escorted by a Roman soldier on each side, was led in, Scipio, accustomed to estimate men, could not but admire the calm and haughty self possession of his young prisoner. His eye fell with approval upon his active sinewy figure, and the knotted muscles of his arms and legs.
“You are Malchus, a relation of Hannibal, and the commander of the scouts of his army, I hear,” Scipio began.
Malchus bowed his head in assent.
“What force has he with him, and what are his intentions?”
“I know nothing of his intentions,” Malchus replied quietly, “as to his force, it were better that you inquired of your allies, who saw us pass the river. One of them was brought hither with me, and can tell you what he saw.”
“Know you not,” Scipio said, “that I can order you to instant execution if you refuse to answer my questions?”
“Of that I am perfectly well aware,” Malchus replied; “but I nevertheless refuse absolutely to answer any questions.”
“I will give you until tomorrow morning to think the matter over, and if by that time you have not made up your mind to give me the information I require, you die.”
So saying he waved his hand to the soldiers, who at once removed Malchus from his presence. He was taken to a small tent a short distance away, food was given to him, and at nightfall chains were attached to his ankles, and from these to the legs of two Roman soldiers appointed to guard him during the night, while a sentry was placed at the entrance. The chains were strong, and fitted so tightly round the ankles that escape was altogether impossible. Even had he possessed arms and could noiselessly have slain the two soldiers, he would be no nearer getting away, for the chains were fastened as securely round their limbs as round his own. Malchus, therefore, at once abandoned any idea of escape, and lying quietly down meditated on his fate in the morning.
It was not until long after the guards to whom he was chained had fallen asleep that Malchus followed their example. It seemed to him he had been asleep a long time when a pressure by a hand on his shoulder woke him; at the same moment another hand was placed over his mouth.
“Hush, my lord!” a voice said. It was Nessus. “Arise and let us go. There is no time to be lost, for it is nigh morning. I have been the whole night in discovering where you were.”
“But the guards, Nessus?”
“I have killed them,” Nessus said in a tone of indifference.
“But I am chained to them by the ankles.”
Nessus gave a little exclamation of impatience, and then in the darkness felt the irons to discover the nature of the fastenings. In a minute there was a sound of a dull crashing blow, then Nessus moved to the other side and the sound was repeated. With two blows of his short heavy sword the Arab had cut off the feet of the dead Romans at the ankle, and the chains were free.
“Put on the clothes of this man, my lord, and take his arms; I will take those of the other.”
As soon as this was done Nessus wrapped some folds of cloth round each of the chains to prevent their clanking, then passing a band through the ends he fastened them to Malchus' waist.
“Quick, my lord,” he said as he finished the work; “daylight is beginning to break.”
They stepped over the dead sentry at the door of the tent and were going on when Malchus said:
“Best lift him inside, Nessus; it may be some little time before it is noticed that he is missing from his post.”
This was quickly done, and they then moved away quietly among the tents till they approached the rear of the camp. It was now light enough to enable them to see dimly the figures of the Roman sentries placed at short intervals round the camp.
“We cannot get through unseen,” Malchus said.
“No, my lord,” Nessus replied; “I have wasted too much time in finding you.”
“Then we had best lie down quietly here,” Malchus said; “in a short time the men will be moving about, and we can then pass through the sentries without remark.”
As the light spread over the sky sounds of movement were heard in the camp, and soon figures were moving about, some beginning to make fires, others to attend to their horses. The two Carthaginians moved about among the tents as if similarly occupied, secure that their attire as Roman soldiers would prevent any observation being directed towards them. They were anxious to be off, for they feared that at any moment they might hear the alarm raised on the discovery that the sentry was missing.
It was nearly broad daylight now, and when they saw two or three soldiers pass out between the sentries unquestioned they started at once to follow them. The morning was very cold, and the soldiers who were about were all wearing their military cloaks. Malchus had pulled the irons as high up as he could possibly force them, and they did not show below his cloak.
Walking carelessly along they passed through the sentries, whose duties, now that morning had dawned, related only to discovering an enemy approaching the camp, the soldiers being now free to enter or leave as they pleased.
“It is of no use to go far,” Malchus said; “the nearer we hide to the camp the better. We are less likely to be looked for there than at a distance, and it is impossible for me to travel at any speed until I get rid of these heavy irons. As soon as we get over that little brow ahead we shall be out of sight of the sentries, and will take to the first hiding place we see.”
The little rise was but a short distance from camp, the country beyond was open but was covered with low brushwood. As soon as they were over the brow and were assured that none of those who had left the camp before them were in sight, they plunged into the brushwood, and, making their way on their hands and knees for a few hundred yards, lay down in the midst of it.
“They are not likely to search on this side of the camp,” Malchus said. “They will not know at what hour I escaped, and will naturally suppose that I started at once to regain our camp. Listen, their trumpets are blowing. No doubt they are about to strike their camp and march; by this time my escape must be known. And now tell me, Nessus, how did you manage to follow and discover me?”
“It was easy to follow you, my lord,” Nessus said. “When I heard your order I lay still, but watched through the bushes your meeting with the Gauls. My arrow was in the string, and had they attacked you I should have loosed it among them, and then rushed out to die with you, but when I saw them take you a prisoner I followed your orders. I had no difficulty in keeping you in sight until nightfall. Then I crept up to the wood and made my way until I was within a few yards of you and lay there till nearly morning; but, as the men around you never went to sleep, I could do nothing and stole away again before daylight broke. Then I followed again until I saw our horsemen approaching. I had started to run towards them to lead them to you when I saw the Roman horse, and I again hid myself.
“The next night again the Romans kept too vigilant a watch for me to do anything, and I followed them all yesterday until I saw them enter the Roman camp. As soon as it was dark I entered, and, getting into the part of the camp occupied by the Massilians, whose Gaulish talk I could understand a little, I gathered that a Carthaginian prisoner who had been brought in was to be executed in the morning. So I set to work to find you; but the night was too dark to see where the sentries were placed, and I had to crawl round every tent to see if one stood at the entrance on guard, for I was sure that a sentry would be placed over you. I entered seven tents, at whose doors sentries were placed, before I found yours, but they were all those of Roman generals or persons of importance. I entered each time by cutting a slit in the back of the tent. At last when I was beginning to despair, I found your tent.
“It was the smallest of any that had been guarded, and this made me think I was right. When I crawled in I found feeling cautiously about, that two Roman soldiers were asleep on the ground and that you were lying between them. Then I went to the entrance. The sentry was standing with his back to it. I struck a blow on his neck from behind, and he died without knowing he was hurt. I caught him as I struck and lowered him gently down, for the crash of his arms as he fell would have roused everyone near. After that it was easy to stab the two guards sleeping by you, and then I woke you.”
“You have saved my life, Nessus, and I shall never forget it,” Malchus said gratefully.
“My life is my lord's,” the Arab replied simply. “Glad am I indeed that I have been able to do you a service.”
Just as he spoke they saw through the bushes a party of Roman horse ride at a gallop over the brow between them and the camp. They halted, however, on passing the crest, and an officer with them gazed long and searchingly over the country. For some minutes he sat without speaking, then he gave an order and the horsemen rode back again over the crest.
“I think we shall see no more of them,” Malchus said. “His orders were, no doubt, that if I was in sight they were to pursue, if not, it would be clearly useless hunting over miles of brushwood in the hope of finding me, especially as they must deem it likely that I am far away in the opposite direction.”
An hour later Nessus crept cautiously forward among the bushes, making a considerable detour until he reached the spot whence he could command a view of the Roman camp. It had gone, not a soul remained behind, but at some distance across the plain he could see the heavy column marching north. He rose to his feet and returned to the spot where he had left Malchus, and told him that the Romans had gone.
“The first thing, Nessus, is to get rid of these chains.”
“It is easy as to the chains,” Nessus said, “but the rings around your legs must remain until we rejoin the camp, it will need a file to free you from them.”
The soil was sandy, and Nessus could find no stone sufficiently large for his purpose. They, therefore, started in the direction which the Romans had taken until, after two hours' slow walking, they came upon the bed of a stream in which were some boulders sufficiently large for the purpose.
The rings were now pushed down again to the ankles, and Nessus wound round them strips of cloth until he had formed a pad between the iron and the skin to lessen the jar of the blow, then he placed the link of the chain near to the leg upon the edge of the boulder, and, drawing his sharp heavy sword, struck with all his force upon the iron.
A deep notch was made; again and again he repeated the blow, until the link was cut through, then, with some difficulty, he forced the two ends apart until the shackle of the ring would pass between them. The operation was repeated on the other chain, and then Malchus was free, save for the two iron rings around his ankles. The work had taken upwards of an hour, and when it was done they started at a rapid walk in the direction taken by the column. They had no fear now of the natives, for should any come upon them they would take them for two Roman soldiers who had strayed behind the army.
Scipio made a long day's march, and it was not until nightfall that his army halted. Malchus and his companion made a long detour round the camp and continued their way for some hours, then they left the track that the army would follow, and, after walking for about a mile, lay down among some bushes and were soon asleep.
In the morning they agreed that before proceeding further it was absolutely necessary to obtain some food. Malchus had been fed when among the Romans, but Nessus had had nothing from the morning when he had been upset in the Rhone four days before, save a manchet of bread which he had found in one of the tents he had entered. Surveying the country round carefully, the keen eye of the Arab perceived some light smoke curling up at the foot of the hills on their right, and they at once directed their course towards it. An hour's walking brought them within sight of a native village.
As soon as they perceived it they dropped on their hands and knees and proceeded with caution until within a short distance of it. They were not long in discovering a flock of goats browsing on the verdure in some broken ground a few hundred yards from the village. They were under the charge of a native boy, who was seated on a rock near them. They made their way round among the brushwood until they were close to the spot.
“Shall I shoot him?” Nessus asked, for he had carried his bow and arrows concealed in his attire as a Roman soldier.
“No, no,” Malchus replied, “the lad has done us no harm; but we must have one of his goats. His back is towards us, and, if we wait, one of them is sure to come close to us presently.”
They lay quiet among the bushes until, after a delay of a quarter of an hour, a goat, browsing upon the bushes, passed within a yard or two of them.
Nessus let fly his arrow, it passed almost through the animal, right behind its shoulder, and it fell among the bushes. In an instant Nessus was upon it, and, grasping its mouth tightly to prevent it from bleating, cut its throat. They dragged it away until a fall in the ground hid them from the sight of the natives, then they quickly skinned and cut it up, devoured some of the meat raw, and then, each taking a leg of the animal, proceeded upon their way.
They now walked without a halt until, late in the evening, they came down upon the spot where the Carthaginian army had crossed. It was deserted. Going down to the edge of the river they saw the great rafts upon which the elephants had crossed.
“We had best go on a mile or two ahead,” Nessus said, “the Roman cavalry may be here in the morning, though the column will be still a day's march away. By daylight we shall have no difficulty in finding the traces of the army.”
Malchus took the Arab's advice, and the next morning followed on the traces of the army, which were plainly enough to be seen in the broken bushes, the trampled ground, and in various useless articles dropped or thrown away by the troops. They were forced to advance with caution, for they feared meeting any of the natives who might be hanging on the rear of the army.
After three days' travelling with scarce a pause they came upon the army just as the rear guard was crossing the Isere, and Malchus received a joyous welcome from his friends, who had supposed him drowned at the passage of the Rhone. His account of his adventure was eagerly listened to, and greatly surprised were they when they found that he had been a prisoner in the camp of Scipio, and had been rescued by the fidelity and devotion of Nessus. Hannibal asked many questions as to the strength of Scipio's army, but Malchus could only say that, not having seen it except encamped, he could form but a very doubtful estimate as to its numbers, but considered it to be but little superior to that of the Carthaginian.
“I do not think Scipio will pursue us,” Hannibal said. “A defeat here would be as fatal to him as it would be to us, and I think it more likely that, when he finds we have marched away north, he will return to his ships and meet us in Italy.”
Malchus learned that everything had progressed favourably since the army had crossed the Rhone, the natives having offered no further opposition to their advance. A civil war was going on in the region the army had now entered, between two rival princes, brothers, of the Allobroges. Hannibal was requested to act as umpire in the quarrel, and decided in favour of the elder brother and restored order. In return he received from the prince whom he reseated on his throne, provisions, clothing, and other necessaries for the army, and the prince, with his troops, escorted the Carthaginians some distance up into the Alps, and prevented the tribes dwelling at the foot of the mountains from attacking them.
The conquest of Catalonia, the passage of the Pyrenees, and the march across the south of Gaul, had occupied many months. Summer had come and gone, autumn had passed, and winter was at hand. It was the eighteenth of October when Hannibal led his army up the narrow valleys into the heart of the Alps. The snow had already fallen thickly upon the upper part of the mountains, and the Carthaginians shuddered at the sight of these lofty summits, these wild, craggy, and forbidding wastes. The appearance of the wretched huts of the inhabitants, of the people themselves, unshaved and unkempt and clad in sheepskins, and of the flocks and herds gathering in sheltered spots and crowding together to resist the effects of the already extreme cold, struck the Carthaginian troops with dismay. Large bodies of the mountaineers were perceived posted on the heights surrounding the valleys, and the column, embarrassed by its length and the vast quantity of baggage, was also exposed to attack by hordes who might at any moment rush out from the lateral ravines. Hannibal, therefore, ordered his column to halt.
Malchus was now ordered to go forward with his band of scouts, and to take with him a party of Gauls, who, their language being similar to that of the natives, could enter into conversation with them. The mountaineers, seeing but a small party advancing, allowed them to approach peaceably and entered freely into conversation with them. They declared that they would on no account permit the Carthaginian army to pass forward, but would oppose every foot of their advance.
The Gauls learned, however, that, believing the great column could only move forward in the daytime, the natives were in the habit of retiring from their rocky citadels at nightfall. Malchus returned with this news to Hannibal, who prepared to take advantage of it. The camp was at once pitched, and the men set to work to form an intrenchment round it as if Hannibal meditated a prolonged halt there. Great fires were lit and the animals unloaded. The natives, seeing from above everything that was being done, deserted their posts as usual at nightfall, confident that the Carthaginians had no intention of moving forward.
Malchus with his scouts crept on along the path, and soon sent down word to Hannibal that the heights were deserted. The general himself now moved forward with all his light troops, occupied the head of the pass, and posted strong parties of men upon the heights commanding it. As soon as day broke the rest of the army got into motion and proceeded up the pass. The natives were now seen approaching in great numbers, but they halted in dismay on seeing that the Carthaginians had already gained possession of the strong places.
The road by which the column was ascending wound along the face of a precipice, and was so narrow that it was with difficulty that the horses, snorting with fright, could be persuaded to proceed. The natives, seeing the confusion which the fright of the animals created in the column, at once took to the mountains, climbing up rugged precipices which appeared to the Carthaginians absolutely inaccessible, and presently made their appearance far up on the mountain side above the column.
Here, sending up the most piercing yells, they began to roll rocks and stones down upon the column. The confusion below became terrible. The horses, alarmed by the strange wild cries, echoed and re-echoed a score of times among the mountains, and struck by the falling stones, plunged and struggled wildly to escape. Some tore along the path, precipitating those in front of them over the precipice, others lost their footing, and, dragging with them the carts to which they were attached, fell into the valley below. All order was lost. Incapable of defence or of movement the column appeared to be on the verge of destruction.
“Come, my men,” Malchus exclaimed to his Arabs, “where these men can climb we can follow them; the safety of the whole column is at stake.”
Slinging their weapons behind them the scouts began to climb the crags. Sure footed and hardy as they were, it was with the greatest difficulty that they could make their way up. Many lost their footing, and rolling down were dashed to pieces; but the great majority succeeded in climbing the heights, and at once became engaged in desperate battle with the natives.
Every narrow ledge and crag was the scene of a conflict. The natives from the distant heights encouraged their companions with their shouts, and for a time the confusion in the column below was heightened by the combat which was proceeding far above them. Every stone dislodged by the feet of the combatants thundered down upon them, and the falling bodies of those hit by arrow or javelin came crushing down with a dull thud among the mass.
At last the bravery and superior weapons of the Arabs prevailed. The precipice was cleared of the natives, and as the uproar ceased and the missiles ceased to fall, the column recovered its order, and again moved forward until the whole army gained the top of the pass. Here Hannibal took possession of a rough fort erected by the natives, captured several villages, and enough flocks and herds to feed his army for three days. Then descending from the top of the pass, which is now known as the Gol-du-Chat, he entered the valley of Chambery, and marched forward for three days without opposition.
Malchus and his scouts received the warmest congratulations for their conduct at the pass, for they had undoubtedly saved the army from what had at one time threatened to be a terrible disaster. On arrival at a town supposed to be identical with the modern Conflans, the inhabitants came out with green boughs and expressed their desire for peace and friendship. They said that they had heard of the fate which had befallen those who ventured to oppose the Carthaginians, and that they were anxious to avoid such misfortunes. They offered to deliver hostages as a proof of their good intentions, to supply sheep and goats for the army, and to furnish guides through the difficult country ahead.
For two days the march continued. The route the army was passing was that now known as the little St. Bernard. Fortunately Hannibal had from the first entertained considerable doubt as to the good faith of his guides, and never relaxed his vigilance. The scouts and light infantry, with the cavalry, preceded the great column of baggage, the heavy cavalry defended the rear.
The track, which had for the last five days' march proceeded along a comparatively level valley, now mounted rapidly, and turning aside from the valley of the Isere it led up the deep bed of the mountain torrent known as the Reclus; this stream ran in a deep trough hollowed out in a very narrow valley. The bed is now so piled with rocks and stones as to be impassable, and the Romans afterwards cut a road along on the side of the mountain. But at this time it was possible for men and animals to proceed along the bed of the torrent.
Suddenly while struggling with the difficulties of the ascent, a vast number of the natives appeared on the hills on either side, and began to hurl down stones and rocks upon the column below, while at the same time a still stronger force attacked them in the rear. The instant the natives made their appearance the treacherous guides, who were proceeding with the scouts at the head of the column, attempted to make their escape by climbing the mountain side. The Arabs were starting off in pursuit, but Malchus checked them.
“Keep together,” he shouted, “and on no account scatter; the enemy are upon us in force, and it behooves us all to be steady and deliberate in our action.”
A flight of arrows was, however, sent after the traitors, and most of them rolled lifeless down the slope again.
Hannibal's first care was to extricate his cavalry from the gorge. This was performed with great difficulty, and they were drawn up in good order on the narrow piece of level ground between the gorge in which the river ran and the mountains bordering the side of the pass.
The light troops now ascended the hills on both sides, and speedily became engaged with the enemy. The confusion in the bed of the torrent was tremendous. Great numbers of men and animals were killed by the rocks and missiles from above, but more of the soldiers were trampled to death by the frightened horses. The heavy infantry in the rear remained steady, and repulsed every effort of the main body of the enemy to break in upon the column.
As night fell the combat ceased, but Hannibal and the troops in advance of the column passed the night under arms at the foot of a certain white rock standing above the ravine, and which still marks the exact site of the conflict. The natives had suffered heavily both from their conflict with the light troops upon the hillside, and from the repulse of their assaults upon the rear guard, and in the morning they did not venture to renew the attack, and the column moved forward out of the ravine and continued its march, the natives from time to time dashing down to attack it.
The elephants were placed on the flank of the line of march, and the appearance of these strange beasts so terrified the enemy that they desisted from their attack, and by evening the army encamped on the summit of the pass.
The snow had already fallen deeply, the army were worn out and dispirited by the exertions and dangers through which they had passed, and had suffered great losses in men and animals in the nine days which had elapsed since they first entered the mountains. Hannibal gave them two days' rest, in which time they were joined by many stragglers who had fallen behind, and by beasts of burden which, in the terror and confusion of the attack, had got rid of their loads and had escaped, but whose instinct led them to follow the line of march.
At the end of the second day Hannibal assembled his troops and addressed them in a stirring speech. He told them that the worst part of their journey was now over. He pointed to them the plains of Italy, of which a view could be obtained through the pass ahead, and told them that there they would find rest and friends, wealth and glory. The soldiers as usual responded to the words of their beloved general with shouts of acclamation, and with renewed spirits prepared to meet the difficulties which still lay before them.
The next morning the march was renewed. The snow lay deep on the track, and the soldiers found that, great as had been the difficulties of the ascent, those of the descent were vastly greater, for the slopes of the Alps on the Italian side are far steeper and more abrupt than are those on the French. Every step had to be made with care; those who strayed in the slightest from the path found the snow gave way beneath their feet and fell down the precipice beside them.
Many of the baggage animals thus perished; but at last the head of the column found itself at the foot of the steep descent in a ravine with almost perpendicular walls, amid whose foot was in summer occupied by a mountain stream. Into the depth of this ravine the rays of the sun never penetrated, and in it lay a mass of the previous year's snow which had never entirely melted, but which formed with the water of the torrent a sheet of slippery ice.
The newly formed snow prevented the troops from seeing the nature of the ground, and as they stepped upon it they fell headlong, sliding in their armour down the rapidly sloping bed of ice, many dashing out their brains or breaking their limbs against the great boulders which projected through it. The cavalry next attempted the passage, but with even less success, for the hoofs of the horses broke through the hard upper crust of the old snow and the animals sank in to their bellies. Seeing that it was impossible to pass this obstacle, Hannibal turned back the head of the column until they reached the top of the ascent down which they had just come. There he cleared away the snow and erected a camp; all the infantry were then brought down into the pass and set to work to build up a road along the side of the ravine.
The engineers with fire and explosives blasted away the foot of the cliffs; the infantry broke up the rocks and formed a level track. All night the work continued, the troops relieving each other at frequent intervals, and by the morning a path which could be traversed by men on foot, horses, and baggage animals was constructed for a distance of three hundred yards, beyond which the obstacle which had arrested the advance of the army did not continue.
The cavalry, baggage animals, and a portion of the infantry at once continued their way down the valley, while the rest of the infantry remained behind to widen the road sufficiently for the elephants to pass along. Although the work was pressed on with the greatest vigour it needed three days of labour in all before the elephants could be passed through. The animals were by this time weak with hunger, for from the time when they had turned aside from the valley of the Isere the Alps had been wholly bare of trees, and the ground being covered with snow, no foliage or forage had been obtainable to eke out the store of flour which they carried for their consumption. Nor was any wood found with which to manufacture the flat cakes into which the flour was formed for their rations.
The elephants once through, the march was continued, and, joining the troops in advance, who had halted in the woods below the snow level, the column continued its march. On the third day after passing the gorge they issued out on to the plain of the Po, having lost in the fifteen days' passage of the Alps great numbers of men from the attacks of the enemy, from the passage of the rapid torrents, from falls over the precipices, and from cold, and having suffered still more severely in horses and baggage animals.
Of the 59,000 picked troops with which he had advanced after the conquest of Catalonia, Hannibal reached the plains of Italy with but 12,000 African infantry, 8,000 Spanish and Gaulish infantry, and 6,000 cavalry—in all 26,000 men. A small force indeed with which to enter upon the struggle with the might and power of Rome. Of the 33,000 men that were missing, 13,000 had fallen in the passes of the Pyrenees and the march through Gaul, 20,000 had died in the passage of the Alps.