Hannibal: Clouds of War (57 page)

The autumn brought with it outbreaks of plague. Both sides suffered, within and without the city, but the Carthaginian camps’ situation on marshy land to the south, and their poor sanitation, ensured that they lost far more men. Among the tens of thousands who died were Himilco and Hippocrates. Despite this huge setback, the remaining Syracusan forces advanced once more on the city to try and break the Roman siege. They were encouraged by news of a large Carthaginian fleet off the southern coast. However, a violent storm and a robust response by Marcellus, who sailed to meet the enemy head-on, ensured that the reinforcements broke away from their course and made for the Italian city of Tarentum, which had recently fallen to Hannibal.

When the Syracusans heard of their abandonment by the Carthaginian fleet, they tried to seek terms from Marcellus. It wasn’t surprising that the Roman deserters within their ranks, of whom there were many, were unhappy with this development. A wave of tit-for-tat killings resulted, and the balance of power between those who wanted to continue fighting and those who wanted to surrender changed more than once. Increasingly dismayed by the levels of distrust and barbarity, Hanno prepared to flee with Aurelia.

Marcellus’ opportunity to seize complete control came after he’d made secret overtures to one of the commanders of Achradina, a disgruntled Iberian mercenary called Moericus. Soon after they’d come to an agreement, the Romans launched a simultaneous dawn attack on Ortygia and Achradina. Quintus and Urceus eagerly played their part in this. When Moericus and his soldiers joined the Romans as agreed, the remaining defenders on Ortygia were soon overrun. Wishing to preserve the riches of the royal treasury for himself, Marcellus had his troops withdraw from Ortygia for a time. This allowed the Roman deserters, and also Hanno and Aurelia, to escape. A terrible fate awaited the last defenders in Achradina. When they opened their gates, wishing only to surrender, Marcellus’ soldiers launched a savage assault on the suburb that left few people living. Famously, Archimedes was one of the casualties, slain by a legionary who interrupted him as he drew a geometric design in the dirt. Outraged, Marcellus executed or banished the culprit, and had Archimedes buried in his family tomb.

After more than five centuries of independence, Syracuse had fallen to an invader. Reputedly the largest and most beautiful of Greek cities, it had been stripped bare during the siege. Although the inhabitants of several suburbs had suffered grievously, the rest had escaped relatively lightly according to the standards of the time. Normally, when a city was taken by force, every male inhabitant was killed and all women and children were sold as slaves.

Despite all that had happened, there were some who still wished to continue fighting the Romans. Somehow Epicydes managed to escape the sack of Syracuse. Along with Hanno, Aurelia and a small number of soldiers, he travelled to Akragas. There, they soon received unexpected reinforcements from both Hannibal and Carthage, which allowed them some successes against Marcellus’ legions in the months that followed.

And so the struggle for Sicily dragged on.

Author’s Note

WHEN THE OPPORTUNITY
to write a set of novels about the Second Punic War (218–201
BC
) came my way, I jumped at the chance. I have been fascinated by the time period for many years. The word ‘epic’ is overused today, but I feel that its use is justified when referring to this incredible seventeen-year struggle. Life in Europe today would be very different indeed if the scales had tipped but a fraction in the opposite direction to the way they did on a number of occasions. The Carthaginians were quite unlike the Romans, and not in all the bad ways ‘history’ would have us believe. They were intrepid explorers and inveterate traders, shrewd businessmen and brave soldiers. Where Rome’s interests so often lay in conquest by war, theirs lay more in assuming power through the control of commerce and natural resources. It may be a small point, but my use of the word ‘Carthaginian’ rather than the Latin ‘Punic’ when referring to their language is quite deliberate. The Carthaginians would not have used the term.

Many readers will know the broad brushstrokes of Hannibal’s war with Rome; others will know less; a very few will be voracious readers of the ancient authors Livy and Polybius, the main sources for this period. For the record, I have done my best to stick to the historical details that have survived. In places, however, I have either changed events slightly to fit in with the story’s development, or invented things. Such is the novelist’s remit, as well as his/her curse. I apologise now for any errors that I may have made.

The term ‘Italy’ was in use in the third century
BC
as a geographical expression; it encompassed the entire peninsula south of Cisalpine Gaul. The term did not become a political one until Polybius’ time (mid second century
BC
). I decided to use it anyway. It simplified matters, and avoided constant reference to the different parts of the Republic: Rome, Campania, Latium, Lucania, etc.

A reasonable amount of information survives about the Roman army of the third century
BC
, but when writing about it, one often has to make assumptions and logical leaps of faith. The same applies to the Carthaginian and the Syracusan armies. We have some details about Roman funerals – I used them to the best of my ability in this book. Another obstacle course that I had to negotiate concerned Carthaginian names. Not many have survived the test of time, and most of those that have are unpronounceable, or sound awful. Hillesbaal and Ithobaal don’t exactly roll off the tongue. I
had
to use Muttumbaal, however. There’s a modern ring to the nickname ‘Mutt’! There were a number of important historical characters called Hanno, but I desperately needed a good name for my hero, so he took precedence.

The prologue of the novel begins soon after the second title in the series,
Hannibal: Fields of Blood
, ended. Maharbal’s prophetic warning to Hannibal is recorded. Rome’s response to Hannibal’s envoys, soon after, gives us an indication of their people’s determination, even in the depths of defeat. When the Carthaginian embassy reached Rome, they were refused entry to the city and told that the Republic would never treat with an enemy still on Roman or allied soil. Furthermore, ransom for the high-ranking prisoners held by Hannibal was denied, condemning eight thousand unfortunates to execution or a life enslaved. Rome’s harsh stances towards its own continued: the legionaries who had survived Cannae were shipped in disgrace to Sicily, and banned from returning to Italy for the rest of their lives.

The main action of this novel doesn’t start until 213
BC
, when much of the conflict was taking place on Sicily. I had the privilege of visiting the island in March 2013, when I took in as many of the plentiful historical sites as I could. Sicily is the most remarkable place, and what can be found there equals anything on the Italian mainland. The history of conquest on Sicily stretches back nearly three thousand years. It was colonised by Greeks, which explains why the inhabitants of Syracuse and other towns spoke that tongue, and also by Carthaginians. This explains my use of Greek-spelt words, such as the River ‘Anapos’, rather than River ‘Anapus’, which is the Romanised version. The city of Akragas was not renamed Agrigento until it fell to the Romans, after the end of this novel.

By the fourth century
BC
, Carthage had vanquished the western third of the island. Conflict continued throughout much of the rest of Sicily, but Syracuse remained fiercely independent. During the First Punic War (264–241
BC
), Syracuse’s dictator Hiero took the side of the Roman Republic. He remained a loyal ally of Rome until his death, even sending soldiers to Italy to fight against Hannibal. The city’s defences were renowned in ancient times; at the time of the Second Punic War, its walls were more than twenty miles in length. Archimedes really did invent various lethal engines of war, including the ‘iron claw’ that I described; the awesome fortifications at the still-standing Euryalus fort (Castello Eurialo) are also reputed to have been designed by him. The wheel with leather buckets that was used to raise water from a well is a fictional addition to his inventions, but such a device has been found in London and dated to Roman times, so it’s not impossible that a genius like Archimedes could have built one.

If visiting Syracuse, try to see Dionysus’ Ear, the site of a quarry that has been dated to the time of the city’s construction. The marks of the stonemasons’ chisels can be seen within it. Nearby, there is a vast altar upon which more than two hundred bulls were sacrificed around the time of the Second Punic War. Arethusa’s spring, mentioned in ancient documents, is still pumping out fresh water right at the sea’s edge on Ortygia, the island that forms part of central Syracuse. There you can see the only papyrus to grow in Europe.

Hippocrates, Epicydes, Marcellus, Pulcher, Pinarius and Damippus were all genuine historical characters. So too was Attalus, the man who betrayed the conspiracy to open the city’s gates to the Romans. It’s extraordinary that Hippocrates’ and Epicydes’ success in winning over the Syracusan troops near Leontini was down to the fact that the first soldiers they met were Cretan mercenary archers. They had met the brothers when they were being held as captives by Hannibal after the battle of Lake Trasimene. Hannibal’s policy of freeing all non-Roman prisoners paid off in that one respect, if nowhere else. The dramatic events of the first Roman attack on Syracuse, including the ‘sambucae’, is attested, as is the magnitude of their defeat.

The ambush by Marcellus on Hippocrates’ patrol occurred; so too did Hippocrates’ flight to Akragas. The horrific events at Enna happened, in the manner that I have described. It was unusual for the Romans to admit later that the massacre might have better been avoided. Incredibly, the means of taking Syracuse came about thanks to an observant but unknown Roman soldier, who noted the height of the stone blocks at the Galeagra tower. As I described, Marcellus waited until the second night of a festival to Artemis before launching a night-time attack.

There is no direct evidence for the use of whistles in battle by Roman officers. Trumpets and other instruments were used to relay commands. Yet whistles have been found in sites all over the Empire, including in the proximity of the legionary fortress at Regensburg in Germany. In my mind, it’s not too much of a jump from that to have them in the hands of centurions during a battle, as they were used by army officers in wars up until recent times.

We have the film
Ben Hur
to thank for the inaccurate depiction of drummers on warships setting the speed for the rowers. In real life, flautists or singers were used. My attempt to produce words that sounded like the Gauls’ carnyxes came about after listening repeatedly to John Kenny, a modern musician, playing a modern replica of this vertical trumpet. It sounds terrifying. Listen here:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NYM0xB5Jrc0
.

While the graffiti I described on the wall of a tavern is made up, its style and content very much reflects that found in Pompeii and other places. Take a look at the back of some toilet doors in motorway service stations in the UK and you’ll see that little has changed in two thousand years! Having my characters use the terms ‘brothers’ and ‘boys’ is quite deliberate and accurate. Roman soldiers referred to each other as ‘
fratres
’ and a letter written by a Centurian in Britain mentioned his ‘boys’.

After the loss of Syracuse to the Romans, the struggle in Sicily continued around the city of Akragas, on the southern coast. When that city fell in 210
BC
, those who could fled to Carthage and beyond, and the fighting on Sicily ended. The war was far from over, however. In Iberia, the Scipios fought a bitter contest against various Carthaginian generals, and in Italy, Hannibal continued his attempts to defeat the Republic. The next volume of the series will take place in Iberia, and continue to follow the stories of Hanno, Quintus and Aurelia. I hope that you feel the need to find out what happens to them next. Before I write that tale, however, I intend to travel to Germania. In 9
AD
, the Romans lost three legions in the forests there. They fell victim to a magnificently executed ambush by the local tribes. The shocking and unexpected loss had major consequences on the Empire’s policy of expansion.
Eagles at War
will be the first part of a trilogy, and it will be released in the UK in early 2015.

A bibliography of the textbooks I used while writing
Clouds of War
would run to several pages, so I will mention only the most important, in alphabetical order by author:
The Punic Wars
by Nigel Bagnall;
Life and Leisure in Ancient Rome
by J. P. Balsdon;
The Punic Wars
by Brian Caven;
The Tyrants of Syracuse
by Jeff Champion;
Greece and Rome at War
by Peter Connolly;
Hannibal
by Theodore A. Dodge;
The Fall of Carthage
and
Cannae
, both by Adrian Goldsworthy;
Armies of the Macedonian and Punic Wars
by Duncan Head;
Hannibal’s War
by J. F. Lazenby;
Atlas of the Greek World
by Peter Levi;
The War with Hannibal
by Livy;
Carthage Must Be Destroyed
by Richard Miles;
Daily Life in Carthage (at the Time of Hannibal)
by G. C. Picard;
The Life and Death of Carthage
by G. C. & C. Picard;
Roman Politics 220–150
BC
by H. H. Scullard,
Carthage and the Carthaginians
by Reginald B. Smith and
Warfare in the Classical World
by John Warry. My job is made easier because of Osprey Publishing and its numerous excellent volumes, Oxford University Press and its outstanding
Oxford Classical Dictionary
, and
Ancient Warfare
magazine (buy it!), which has frequent articles on the time. Thanks, as always, to the members of
www.romanarmy.com
, whose rapid answers to my odd questions are often of great use. I owe Christian Cameron, the superlative historical fiction author, a big ‘thank you’ and a few beers for help with a number of questions about ancient Greeks. For those of you who spotted Corax’s ritual of snapping his sword in and out of his scabbard before battle – yes, it’s a homage to Ballista, the hero of Harry Sidebottom’s great
Warrior of Rome
novels. Thanks to him, and to the other members of the #JAFRA
^fn1
‘Romani’, the unofficial group of Roman (and Viking) authors, for being my colleagues and more importantly, my friends. That’s you, Anthony (Tony) Riches, Russell Whitfield, Giles Kristian, Doug Jackson, Robert Fabbri, Henry Venmore-Rowland and Nick Brown. If you haven’t read all of their books, you need to!