Destroy Carthage (18 page)

Four years after Mylae, it outnumbered the Carthaginian
navy and was ready for the most ambitious foreign enterprise
yet entertained by Rome.

Like Agathocles, the Romans intended to attack Carthage
in Africa. Their early successes in Sicily had not brought the
further gains expected. The cost of war there was heavy.

Unlike Agathocles, however, they diverted in no sense of des­peration. The Africa enterprise was long planned, the resources
applied to it massive. In the year 256, an armada of 350
vessels, the transports packed with supplies and horses, the
warships jammed with legionaries and equipped with crows,
sailed from Econmus in Sicily for the southern continent.

A century later, under the passport of diplomatic deception,
Roman troops would cross to Africa with impunity. In 256 the
passage was formidable. Unenamoured of the open sea, the in­vaders planned to sail the southern coast of Sicily to its western
extremity, where the traverse to the shores of Tunisia was
shortest. This meant skirting the more hostile end of the island,
inviting Punic naval intervention.

It occurred between Cape Ecnomus (Monte Rufino) and
westerly Heraclea. Hannibal, whose negligence in northern
waters had so encouraged the Romans, had been arrested and
executed by his officers. Now under two commanders, Hamil­car and Hanno of Acragas, the Carthaginian fleet was arrayed
in a single line at right-angles to the coast: an immense pier
of more than 300 vessels stretching from inshore to far at sea.

The Romans approached in wedge formation, their leaders,
the consuls Atilius Regulus and Manilius Vulso, aiming to bull­doze their way through the attentuated obstacle. Of the four
war squadrons in their armada, two formed the leading edges
of the wedge; another completed the triangle in line at rear,
towing transports; the last followed in reserve.

Hamilcar appears to have envisaged the envelopment, divis­ion and selective destruction of the Romans by tactics ex­ploiting the slow movement of the transports. As the leading
squadrons of the wedge accelerated to punch a gap in the
Punic line, the vessels confronting them deliberately drew back,
urging the Roman oarsmen to greater speed.

Unable to keep pace, the transport-towing squadron fell
behind. In its rear, the reserve squadron held its post.

At the same time, the wings of the Carthaginian line en­circled the Roman flanks. Hamilcar's manoeuvres had gone
well. He had achieved the separation of the enemy fleet into
three parts, uncovered the rear of the wedge, and placed his
own squadrons in striking posts. He deserved success. That
it eluded him seems attributable, in part, to Roman initiative,
but more so to the continuing inability of the Carthaginians
to cope at close quarters against the crows.

While Hamilcar now engaged the forward section of the
Roman fleet with his central squadrons, the Carthaginian left
(inshore) swept toward the struggling tow-ships; the right,
under Hanno, pounced from seaward on the enemy reserves.
Early sources present a blurred picture of what ensued. Evi­dently the tow-ships cut loose from the transports and may
have resumed their position in the Roman wedge, for the
Carthaginians surprisingly failed to take it in the rear.

Meanwhile, the reserve squadron stood up beside the trans­ports.

In the age of gunnery, Hanno's ships would have had little
difficulty destroying, or driving aground, this isolated section
of the Roman fleet. But at a time when only the most primitive
of missiles were used at sea (ramming was the principal of­fensive technique), the Carthaginians could not complete
their advantage without drawing in range of the waiting crows.
They were hesitant.

The result was a mockery of elegant tactics. Instead of
Hanno vanquishing the hard-pressed Roman rearguard and
moving on to support Hamilcar, it was his opponents who
finally were reinforced - first by Regulus, then Manilius - ,
Hamilcar having failed against the weight of their squadrons.
Hanno, trapped between his would-be victims and their res­cuers, now lost many ships. Altogether, the Romans sunk 30
Carthaginian vessels, and captured 64, against 24 of their own
destroyed. Rome had a second naval triumph to celebrate.

With a clear passage to Africa, the expedition landed near
Aspis (Clupea) on the Cap Bon peninsula, from which region
it set about plundering the countryside. Fifty years earlier,
Agathocles had found it fertile, rich and defenceless. Things
had not changed. Among their booty, the invaders reputedly
amassed 20,000 slaves. Had there been less temptation to pillage, the Romans might
have acted more directly against Carthage. As it happened, the
summer slipped away and Rome ordered the recall of Manilius
with the spoils and much of the armada before winter closed
sea communications. Regulus was left to maintain a Roman
presence in Africa until the new campaign season and another
landing. His force numbered 15,000 infantry, a smaller con­tingent of cavalry, and 40 ships: still a threat to a state whose
troops were almost wholly overseas.

At Carthage, the sufets of the day, Hasdrubal-son-of-Hanno
and Bostar, organized a defence force while Hamilcar was
summoned from Sicily with 5,500 men. Despite the scratch
nature of their army, it was decided to oppose the continuing
devastations of Regulus, who had advanced to Adys (Hr
Oudna), a mere twenty-five miles from Tunis.

Marching to that locality, the Carthaginians encamped on a
hill commanding the Roman position. Regulus, perceiving their
strength in mounted troops, immediately attacked them on the
eminence where cavalry was inhibited. The superiority of the
disciplined Roman legions proved overwhelming. The Punic
camp was destroyed, its occupants routed. Regulus now seized
Tunis, denying Carthage the interior.

The city's position was serious. Risings had occurred among
the tribes of the dependencies. Numidians were harrying the
territories. Refugees streamed across the isthmus. Yet there
was a brighter side. Agathocles had come so far, to fail dis­mally. The sea gate was open and Carthage retained the asset
of her great wealth, a talisman even now stirring distant forces
to her side.

These materialized in the form of a band of Spartan mer­cenaries led by a professional captain named Xanthippus, a
veteran of the Greek wars with great flair and experience. In­spiring both senate and soldiery with confidence, Xanthippus
quickly took effective charge of the city's motley army, which
he drilled with Spartan thoroughness.Regulus would have been well advised, at this stage, to rest
on his achievements until reinforced. Fortune was running for
the Romans. In ten years of war, with victories in Sicily, at sea
and in Africa, they had suffered no major mishap. For this they
could thank the prudence of commanders whose resolution
was matched by an aweness that Rome had the strength to be
patient. Now the record was about to be shattered, the gains
eroded, by a risk as needless as it was rash.

Fired by success at Adys, Regulus aspired to conquer Carth­age before the spring brought a successor and fresh troops to
share the credit. He might, indeed, have won terms to Rome's
advantage from the city, for there were peace discussions. But
his ultimatum was so harsh, his manner so arrogant, that the
Carthaginians refused to conclude the talks with a bargain.

His real blunder was in giving battle to the army organized
by Xanthippus, a profoundly different force to that worsted at
Adys. In size, it was much the same as that of Regulus, but its
components offered it tactical advantages. While the Romans
had no more than 500 horse, the Carthaginians had 4,000. They
also possessed 100 elephants, animals the Italians had yet to
meet with confidence.

Regulus dominated in infantry; nevertheless, the 12,000
Carthaginian foot troops were not contemptible. In part, they
comprised the veteran mercenaries of Hamilcar, and the
Spartans. But the greater number were citizens trained by
Xanthippus - inexperienced in war, but high in motivation
and intelligence. It was a rare event: one of the few occasions
when Carthage fielded a largely citizen army.

Regulus doomed his troops from the start by two errors. 1,
He accepted battle on level ground ideal for cavalry (it was
actually chosen, between Carthage and Tunis, by Xanthippus),
a measure of his over-confidence since Adys. 2, He packed his
infantry deep and close before the elephants in the belief that
pachydermous bulk might be offset by concentration.

Both mistakes were disastrous. The elephants, leading the
Carthaginian advance, created havoc in the dense ranks con­fronting them. The Carthaginian cavalry, brushing aside the
small body of opposing horse, attacked the Romans in flank
and rear. Those of Regulus's legions who survived the elephants were
faced with the unbroken ranks of Punic infantry -'the Carthag­inian phalanx,' as Polybius termed it. Encircled and disorgan­ized, the Romans were massacred. About 2,000 legionaries who
had driven back the mercenaries on Xanthippus's right escaped
to Aspis. Regulus, and a further 500, were captured. The rest
perished.

According to legend, Regulus was later released on parole
to persuade the Romans to make peace, but, having defiantly
advised the senate to pursue war, returned to Carthage and
execution. The story, popularized by Horace, appears to be
apocryphal. On better evidence, the prisoner died in captivity,
his disservice to Rome unredeemed by martyrdom.

The land disaster had a grisly sea sequel. News of Regulus's
defeat brought the Roman navy to the aid of the survivors. Re­pulsing a smaller Punic fleet off Cap Bon, it lifted the remnants
of the expedition from Aspis and headed for Sicily. It was
July, a month when southerly gales were expected, and the
pilots warned against a lee shore. Unwisely, their superiors
insisted on lingering to harry the south coast of the island.

They had reached Camarina, between Ecnomus and Cape
Pachynus, when a violent storm drove the fleet on the rocks,
destroying more than 250 vessels. Possibly, as many as 100,000
crewmen and troops were drowned. Certainly, it was the worst
catastrophe at sea known to contemporaries. 'History,' wrote
Polybius, 'can scarcely afford another disaster on such a scale.'