Two facts are peculiarly prominent in Hannibal’s campaign in Italy. First, he had opposed to him the troops of the strongest and most intelligent military power of the world, some of which were, to be sure, comparatively raw in active duty, but yet trained to war from their youth, mixed with legionaries of many campaigns, and instinct with the ardor of fighting for their household gods. It is often assumed that Hannibal’s troops were veterans, the Romans levies of a day. During the first three years this was in part true, and defeat had somewhat drawn the temper of the Roman blade; but throughout the rest of Hannibal’s campaigns the Roman army was much superior to his own in all but one quality,--that strange influence which a great man exercises over men. It will be noticed that whenever the fighting was on equal terms, from the beginning the Roman soldier gave a good account of himself. But Hannibal’s victories were won by stratagem, or by tactical genius and skilful use of his cavalry arm, not by brute fighting. In the latter act the legionary was fully the equal of the phalangite. One cannot compare the task of any other great captain with that of Hannibal. No one ever faced such odds. Secondly, Hannibal had calculated absolutely upon being able to detach the allies--the socii--from their fealty. We cannot imagine him to have set out on his marvellous expedition without having made this the prime factor in his calculations. Hannibal was no madman. He was a keen, close calculator. But he would have been insane, indeed, if he had undertaken his hazardous campaign without such expectation. He was well justified in reckoning on such defection. There had always been a good deal of opposition to high-handed Rome among all her allies, municipal cities, and colonies, and it was a fair assumption that many, if not most, of them would be glad to free themselves and humble their proud conqueror and mistress. In this expectation Hannibal had been entirely disappointed. None of the socii, who were the brawn of the Roman body, had shown any disposition to meet him otherwise than with the sword; none of the colonies, except in distant Gaul, had met him even half way. He had captured towns and territory and had garrisoned citadels. But the aid he received was not that which enables a conqueror to hold what he takes except with the strong hand. And without just such aid, Hannibal could not only not win, but could not be otherwise than defeated, in his contest with the mighty republic. To assume that Hannibal did not see all this, and that he was not fighting against hope almost from the second year, is to underrate this man’s intellectual ability. No one ever fathomed Hannibal’s purpose. He was so singularly reticent that Roman historians called him perfidious, because no one could, from his face or conduct, gauge either his thought or intention, or calculate upon his acts. He had no Hephæstion as had Alexander.