Carthage (Extinct city) -- History -- Fiction; Historical fiction
Nevertheless the provisions, in spite of Hamilcar’s carefulness,
diminished frightfully. There was not left per man more than ten
k’hommers of wheat, three hins of millet, and twelve betzas of dried
fruit. No more meat, no more oil, no more salt food, and not a grain of
barley for the horses, which might be seen stretching down their wasted
necks seeking in the dust for blades of trampled straw. Often the
sentries on vedette upon the terrace would see in the moonlight a dog
belonging to the Barbarians coming to prowl beneath the entrenchment
among the heaps of filth; it would be knocked down with a stone, and
then, after a descent had been effected along the palisades by means
of the straps of a shield, it would be eaten without a word. Sometimes
horrible barkings would be heard and the man would not come up again.
Three phalangites, in the fourth dilochia of the twelfth syntagmata,
killed one another with knives in a dispute about a rat.
All regretted their families, and their houses; the poor their
hive-shaped huts, with the shells on the threshold and the hanging net,
and the patricians their large halls filled with bluish shadows, where
at the most indolent hour of the day they used to rest listening to the
vague noise of the streets mingled with the rustling of the leaves as
they stirred in their gardens;—to go deeper into the thought of this,
and to enjoy it more, they would half close their eyelids, only to be
roused by the shock of a wound. Every minute there was some engagement,
some fresh alarm; the towers were burning, the Eaters of Uncleanness
were leaping across the palisades; their hands would be struck off with
axes; others would hasten up; an iron hail would fall upon the tents.
Galleries of rushen hurdles were raised as a protection against the
projectiles. The Carthaginians shut themselves up within them and
stirred out no more.
Every day the sun coming over the hill used, after the early hours, to
forsake the bottom of the gorge and leave them in the shade. The grey
slopes of the ground, covered with flints spotted with scanty lichen,
ascended in front and in the rear, and above their summits stretched the
sky in its perpetual purity, smoother and colder to the eye than a metal
cupola. Hamilcar was so indignant with Carthage that he felt inclined to
throw himself among the Barbarians and lead them against her. Moreover,
the porters, sutlers, and slaves were beginning to murmur, while neither
people, nor Great Council, nor any one sent as much as a hope. The
situation was intolerable, especially owing to the thought that it would
become worse.
At the news of the disaster Carthage had leaped, as it were, with anger
and hate; the Suffet would have been less execrated if he had allowed
himself to be conquered from the first.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account