Livy thinks that Hannibal's stay at Capua is a reproach to his conduct; and pretends that he there was guilty of an infinitely greater error than when he neglected to march directly to Rome after the battle of Cannæ:--"For this delay," says Livy, "might seem only to have retarded his victory; whereas this last misconduct rendered him absolutely incapable of ever defeating the enemy. In a word, as Marcellus observed judiciously afterwards, Capua was to the Carthaginians and their general, what Cannæ had been to the Romans. There their martial genius, their love of discipline, were lost; there their former fame, and their almost certain hopes of future glory, vanished at once, and, indeed, from thenceforth, the affairs of Hannibal advanced to their decline by swift steps; fortune declared in favour of prudence, and victory seemed now reconciled to the Romans." It is doubted, however, whether Livy has reason to impute all these fatal consequences to the agreeable abode at Capua. It might, indeed, have been one cause, but this would be a very inconsiderable one; and the bravery with which the forces of Hannibal afterwards defeated the armies of consuls and prætors; the towns they took even in sight of the Romans; their maintaining their conquests so vigorously, and staying fourteen years after this in Italy in spite of the Romans; all these circumstances may induce us to believe that Livy lays too much stress on the delights of Capua. In fact, the chief cause of the decay of Hannibal's affairs was his want of necessary supplies and succours from Carthage. The revolt of Capua to the Carthaginians proved its ruin; for when taken by the consuls Fulvius and Claudius, it was punished for its perfidy. Genseric, the Vandal, however, was more cruel than the Romans had been; for he massacred the inhabitants and burned the town to the ground. Narses rebuilt it; but in 841 it was totally destroyed by an army of Saracens, and the inhabitants driven to the mountains[170]. Some time after the retreat of these savage invaders, the Lombards ventured down again into the plain; but not deeming their force adequate to the defence of so great a circuit as the large city, they built themselves a smaller one on the river, and called it Capua. In 1501 this new city was taken by storm by the French, who, according to Guicciardini and Giannone, committed the most flagitious acts of rapine, lust, and enormity. "The amphitheatre of Old Capua," says Mr. Forsyth, "recals to us the sublime image of Spartacus. It resembles the Coliseum in its form and in its fate. Both were raised on magnificent designs--negligently executed. Both have suffered from barbarians and from modern builders; but the solitude of the Campanian ruin has exposed it to greater dilapidation than the Roman has yet undergone. Part of its materials has emigrated to modern Capua; a part is buried in its own arena. The first order of columns is half interred; the second has none entire."