Destroy Carthage (2 page)
But the Roman people were for Scipio. Lentulus was overruled by popular vote and it was proposed to make the victorious general not only consul but dictator of Rome for life -
honours he declined, to resume before long his foreign services.
So, in the spring of 201, after seventeen years of constant
fighting, Rome and Carthage forswore hostility and looked to
new relationships.
Masinissa was not done. Virtually invited to make free with
Carthaginian territory, he surveyed the frontiers of his neighbour with mounting cupidity. True, Carthage could turn to
Rome for arbitration in land disputes, but Rome, as the wily
king realized, had no favours to return her old enemy.
The
historian Appian described Carthage as a ship at anchor off
the coast of North Africa. More accurately, the configuration
was that of a thick wedge driven east into the gulf of Tunis, its
point at Cape Carthage, its leading faces culminating at Cape
Gammarth to the north, to the south at the bay of Kram. From
Kram to Gammarth is seven or eight miles.
Connecting the head of the wedge to the continent, a neck
of land varying from two-and-a-half to three-and-a-half miles
in width passed between what was then a northern gulf of the
sea - now the Ariana lagoon, or Sebka er Riana - and the
southern lake of Tunis, the ancient Stagnum Marinum. While
the neck was of low ground, the broader head of the promontory contained a series of heights, contributing to the illusion
noted by Appian.
Three areas of high land may briefly be identified.
In the south, an elevated region marked the site of the old
quarter of the city, the Byrsa or acropolis, its seaward declivity
dropping to the bay of Kram and the harbour complex. In the
central region, an agglomeration of hills, rising inshore of Cape
Carthage, terminated to the south in the now St Louis hill,
where the Byrsa began, and to the north near the present
village of Sidi Bou Said. Beyond the latter extremity, running
to Cape Gammarth, was the so-called Catacomb hill (Djebel
Kawi).
Distinct from the Byrsa, or city proper, the ancients identified the Megara, the greater area of Carthage, its suburbs and
semi-rural aspects stretching inland of the hills toward the
throat of the isthmus, where the civil boundary was defined.
Westward, straddling the plain behind the promontory, a
further range of heights concealed the distant hinterland.
The population of the city in the years after Zama has been
estimated at 200,000, thinly spread in the Megara, teeming in
the markets and docklands. Here, the economic heart of
Carthage, with its whitewashed facades, its jumble of tenements and terraced dwellings, its flat roofs and vaulted roofs,
its twisting alleys and steep streets climbing to the Byrsa, probably presented many similarities to those towns of the eastern
Mediterranean which survived until recent times - still survive,
in some places - with few concessions to modern change.
Those familiar with North Africa will readily imagine the
out-of-door display of produce and artefacts, the craftsmen
huddled at cluttered portals amid solemn infants and sleeping
dogs. In the heat of day, parts of the city, rudimentary in
sanitation, were far from fragrant. But the evenings, redolent
of night-scented flora and the warm, nocturnal breezes of the
continent, must have conjured longing in absent Carthaginians.
Like their Phoenician ancestors, the city's architects were
capable of building massive and durable structures, as the defences will demonstrate. Dwelling apartments in three streets
descending from the Byrsa toward the docks rose, in some
cases, to six storeys. Generally, however, the low cost of labour
and the availability of cheap, light materials, discouraged
monumental work.
Friable limestone from deep quarries on Cap Bon, across the
gulf, was used for important buildings, and in the foundations
of others. But most houses were of unbaked brick and puddled
clay, faced with stucco. The outer walls, it seems, were largely
blank, domestic life concentrating on inner courtyards where
cool floors might be found of a characteristic pink cement
mixed with marble chips.
Since Carthage has left no writing of her own, and archaeological evidence is limited, the best attested features of the city
are those which evoked the most wonder among ancient
chroniclers. The shrines, numerous and profoundly revered by
the populace, were famed throughout the civilized world of
the period. Some were austere, mere areas of bare ground devoted to the powers believed to dwell or appear there. This type of holy place, the
tophet
of Hebrew terminology,
was represented near the Byrsa by the sanctuary of Tanit, foremost spirit of the Carthaginian pantheon. Occupying an area
of valuable dockland running the entire length of the merchant
harbour, it contained the burnt bones of thousands of children
sacrificed to the deity down the centuries of the city's life. Less
forbidding were the temples, rich in statues and gold and silver
offerings. Of these, the most renowned was that of Eshmoun,
the god of vital force and healing. A flight of sixty steps approached its precinct from the Byrsa.
Not far from the temple, was the north end of the harbour
complex. The Carthaginians had built their harbours, probably
by the elaborate transformation of natural pools, on the low-
lying alluvial shore beside the Byrsa plateau, seemingly in a
situation still occupied by two lagoons at Salammbo. The commercial harbour, connected by a southerly channel to the bay
of Kram, was rectangular in plan, about 1,600 by 1,000 feet,
between the sea and the sanctuary of Tanit.
Here came merchantmen from all shores of the trading
world: Italy, Greece, the Levant, Egypt and elsewhere. Many
foreign businesses had permanent agencies in Carthage, and
parts of the city housed communities of alien merchants. Down
the years, their presence had enriched the culture of the great
port. Essentially, Carthage had grown rich on commodity
brokerage, traditionally importing raw materials, especially
metals, from the west and exporting them east, or to the
Africans of the interior.
The Carthaginians were not manufacturers of special note,
but as entrepreneurs and sailors they excelled. Their naval
skills were outstanding. The military harbour, circular and perhaps 1,000 feet in diameter, was attained through the merchant
basin, at the north end of which was a linking channel. According to a description based on the evidence of the historian
Polybius, who examined the complex:
The harbours were arranged in such a way that ships
could pass from one to the other, while the entrance from
the sea, 70 feet wide, could be sealed by iron chains. The
first harbour, devoted to merchant vessels, contained numerous berths. In the centre of the inner
(naval)
harbour was an
island which, like the circumference of the basin, was lined
with quays, the entire waterfront being given to boat-houses
with accommodation for 220 ships.
Each boat-house was flanked by two Ionic columns, so
that the front of the harbour and of the islands resembled a
sweeping portico. On the island stood the admiral's headquarters, also used by the trumpeters and heralds. Since the
island rose steeply from the water, the admiral could observe
what was happening outside, but little could be seen of the
basin from the sea beyond. Even from the merchant harbour
the arsenals remained concealed, for they were surrounded
by a double wall.
Strabo, writing later, added that the channel between the
harbours, as well as the pools themselves, was banked by
covered berths. This extraordinary complex, diverging from
the normal use of natural harbours, echoed a traditional
Phoenician preference for man-made ports. The classic sources
describe it as a
cothon.
Though small in water area, it could accommodate substantial fleets, for the ships were not moored
but kept ashore in the boat-houses.
At Carthage, the obvious defensive advantages of such an
arrangement were enhanced by a massive stone structure, including a parapet, which screened the entrance of the
cothon
from the gulf, ranging north for some distance seaward of the
merchant basin. Known as the
choma,
this appears to have
served a dual purpose in protecting the outer channel from
rough weather and amphibious attack. It may also have been
used as a quay by ships of call not wishing to enter port.
Not the least fantastic of the works at Carthage were the
mighty outer ramparts of the city. Inspiring grandiloquent
portrayal by ancient writers, despondency in hostile generals,
the walls were about twenty-three miles in length, longer than
the celebrated walls of old Syracuse.
The vital section of the fortification - that straddling the
isthmus to repulse attack from the mainland - was more than
fifty feet high, and almost thirty feet thick at the base, with
four-storey towers every seventy yards or so. Within this wall
was a double tier of remarkable casemates, the lower providing
housing for 300 elephants; the upper, stables for 4,000 horses.
The rampart also contained barracks for the cavalrymen, the
elephant handlers and 20,000 infantrymen, together with
storage for arms and provisions.
In front of this extraordinary obstacle was another rampart,
of now unknown character. Ahead again lay a moat sixty feet
wide backed by a palisade of earth, stone and timbers. Faced
with this triple barricade across the neck of the promontory,
few enemies even contemplated a land attack. Assault from
the sea was given little better chance, for, apart from the
power of the Carthaginian navy at most times, a modified but
formidable extension of the wall followed the entirety of the
coastline round the greater city.
There was also a wall, reputedly of some two miles, round
the Byrsa, forming an inner citadel above and inland of the
docks, overlooking the senate house and main public square.
In all, it was a daunting system. Thus had the greatest commercial city in the Mediterranean, some said the richest in the
world, protected her people, her businesses and sanctuaries -
and, in her best times, the huge stocks of gold that tantalized
rival states.
