Part 4

While the battle was thus progressing in the centre--without decided results--Hanno, who commanded the Carthaginian right wing, instead of engaging the left Roman column in flank, stretched far out to sea, and bore down upon the Roman reserve, which carried the soldiers of the Triarii. The Carthaginian reserve, instead of attacking the Roman right column, as they evidently should have done, also bore down upon the Roman reserve. Thus three distinct and separate engagements were going on at once--all fought most valiantly. Just as the Roman reserve was overpowered, and about to yield, they saw that the Carthaginian centre was in full retreat, chased by the Roman van, while the Roman second division was hastening to the assistance of their sorely pressed reserve. This sight inspired the latter with new courage, and, although they had had many vessels sunk, and a few captured, they continued the fight until the arrival of their friends caused their assailant, Hanno, to hoist the signal for retreat. The Roman third division, embarrassed by its convoy, had been driven back until quite close to the land, and while sharp-pointed, surf-beaten rocks appeared under their sterns, it was attacked on both sides and in front, by the nimble Carthaginians. Vessel by vessel it was falling into the enemy’s hands, when Manlius, seeing its critical condition, relinquished his own pursuit, and hastened to its relief. His presence converted defeat into victory, and insured the complete triumph of the Roman arms; so that, while the Carthaginians scattered in flight, the Romans, towing their prizes stern foremost, as was their custom in victory, entered the harbor of Heraclea.

In this sanguinary and decisive battle thirty of the Carthaginian and twenty-four of the Roman quinqueremes were sent to the bottom, with all on board. Not a single Roman vessel was carried off by the enemy; while the Romans captured sixty-four ships and their crews.

Commodore Parker, of the U. S. Navy, in commenting upon this important naval action, says, “Had Hanno and the commander of the Carthaginian reserve done their duty faithfully and intelligently upon this occasion, the Roman van and centre must have been doubled up and defeated, almost instantly; after which it would have been an easy matter to get possession of the others, with the transports. Thus the Carthaginians would have gained a decisive victory, the effect of which would have been, perhaps, to deter the Romans from again making their appearance in force upon the sea; and then, with such leaders as Hamilcar, Hasdrubal and Hannibal to shape her policy and conduct her armaments, Carthage, instead of Rome, might have been the mistress of the world. Such are the great issues sometimes impending over contending armies and fleets.”

As soon as the Consuls had repaired damages they set sail from Heraclea for Africa, where they disembarked an army under Regulus; and most of the naval force, with the prisoners, then returned home. Regulus, however, soon suffered a defeat, and the Roman fleet had to be despatched to Africa again, in hot haste, to take off the scant remnant of his army. Before taking on board the defeated Legions the fleet had another great naval battle; and captured a Carthaginian fleet of one hundred and fourteen vessels. With the soldiers on board, and their prizes in tow, Marcus Emilius and Servius Fulvius, the Consuls then in command, determined to return to Rome by the south shore of Sicily. This was against the earnest remonstrances of the pilots, or sailing masters, “who wisely argued that, at the dangerous season when, the constellation of Orion being not quite past, and the Dog Star just ready to appear, it were far safer to go North about.”

The Consuls, who had no idea of being advised by mere sailors, were unfortunately not to be shaken in their determination; and so, when Sicily was sighted, a course was shaped from Lylybeum to the promontory of Pachymus. The fleet had accomplished about two-thirds of this distance, and was just opposite a coast where there were no ports, and where the shore was high and rocky, when, with the going down of the sun, the north wind, which had been blowing steadily for several days, suddenly died away, and as the Romans were engaged in furling their flapping sails they observed that they were heavy and wet with the falling dew, the sure precursor of the terrible “Scirocco.” Then the pilots urged the Consuls to pull directly to the southward, that they might have sea room sufficient to prevent them from being driven on shore when the storm should burst upon them. But this, with the dread of the sea natural to men unaccustomed to contend with it, they refused to do; not comprehending that, although their quinqueremes were illy adapted to buffet the waves, anything was better than a lee shore, with no harbor of refuge.

The north wind sprang up again after a little, cheering the hearts of the inexperienced, blew in fitful gusts for an hour or more, then died nearly away, again sprang up, and finally faded out as before. The seamen knew what this portended. “Next came a flash of lightning in the southern sky; then a line of foam upon the southern sea; the roaring of Heaven’s artillery in the air above, and of the breakers on the beach below--and the tempest was upon them!” From this time all order was lost, and the counsels and admonitions of the pilots unheeded. The Roman fleet was completely at the mercy of the hurricane, and the veterans who had borne themselves bravely in many a hard fought battle with their fellow man, now, completely demoralized in the presence of this new danger, behaved more like maniacs than reasonable beings. Some advised one thing, some another; but nothing sensible was done--and when the gale broke, out of four hundred and sixty-four quinqueremes (an immense fleet) three hundred and eighty had been dashed upon the rocks and lost.

The whole coast was covered with fragments of wreck and dead bodies; and that which Rome had been so many years in acquiring, at the cost of so much blood, labor, and treasure, she lost in a few hours, through the want of experienced seamen in command.

* * * * *

During the succeeding Punic wars Rome and Carthage had many another well contested naval engagement.

Adherbal captured ninety-four Roman vessels off Drepanum, but the dogged courage of the Roman was usually successful.

We have few details of these engagements. What the Romans gained in battle was often lost by them in shipwreck; so that, at the end of the first Punic war, which lasted twenty-four years, they had lost seven hundred quinqueremes, and the vanquished Carthaginians only five hundred.

At the time spoken of, when the Romans were fighting the Carthaginians, the former were a free, virtuous and patriotic people. No reverses cast them down; no loss of life discouraged them.

After a lapse of two hundred years, Marcus Brutus and Cassius being dead, and public virtue scoffed at and fast expiring, an arbitrary government was in process of erection upon the ruins of the Republic.

The triumvirate had been dissolved, and Octavius and Antony, at the head of vast armies and fleets, were preparing, on opposite sides of the Gulf of Ambracia, to submit their old quarrel to the arbitrament of the sword. In this emergency Antony’s old officers and soldiers, whom he had so often led to victory, naturally hoped that, assuming the offensive, he would draw out his legions, and, by his ability and superior strategy, force his adversary from the field. But, bewitched by a woman, the greatest captain of the age--now that Cæsar and Pompey were gone--had consented to abandon a faithful and devoted army, and to rely solely upon his fleet; which, equal to that of Octavius in numbers, was far inferior in discipline and drill, and in experience of actual combat.

IV.

ACTIUM. B. C. 31.

SCENE VII. _Near Actium. Antony’s Camp._

_Enter_ Antony and Canidius.

_Ant._ Is it not strange, Canidius, That from Tarentum and Brundusium He could so quickly cut the Ionian Sea, And taken in Toryne? you have heard on’t, sweet?

_Cleo._ Celerity is never more admired Than by the negligent.

_Ant._ A good rebuke, Which might have well becomed the best of men, To taunt at slackness. Canidius, we Will fight with him by sea.

_Cleo._ By sea! What else?

_Canid._ Why will my lord do so?

_Ant._ For that he dares us to ’t.

_Enob._ So hath my lord dared him to single fight.

_Canid._ Ay, and to wage this battle at Pharsalia, Where Cæsar fought with Pompey: but these offers Which serve not for his vantage he shakes off; And so should you.

_Enob._ Your ships are not well mann’d; Your mariners are muleteers, reapers, people Ingrossed by swift impress; in Cæsar’s fleet Are those that often have ’gainst Pompey fought; Their ships are yare; yours, heavy; no disgrace Shall fall you for refusing him at sea, Being prepared for land.

_Ant._ By sea, by sea.

_Enob._ Most worthy sir, you therein throw away The absolute soldiership you have by land; Distract your army, which doth most consist Of war-mark’d footmen; leave unexecuted Your own renowned knowledge; quite forego The way which promises assurance; and Give up yourself merely to chance and hazard, From firm security.

_Ant._ I’ll fight at sea.

_Cleo._ I have sixty sails, Cæsar none better.

_Ant._ Our overplus of shipping will we burn; And, with the rest full mann’d, from the head of Actium, Beat the approaching Cæsar. But if we fail, We then can do ’t at land.

SHAKESPEARE--_Antony and Cleopatra._

Philippi, the decisive battle between Octavius and Brutus and Cassius, took place B. C. 42. Octavius, who afterward assumed the name of Augustus, is very differently described by historians. It is said that he did not fight at Philippi; and he is called a coward by some writers, who declare that he was always sick on critical days. Be that as it may, it seems certain that Antony fought that battle, although Octavius got the credit of success with the Roman public, which soon endowed him with every quality which goes to make the title of “August,” which title he was the first to bear; being the favorite of the citizens, much more by reason of his ancestry, and by the judicious bestowal of offices and of money, than by feats of arms.

After their victory at Philippi, Antony and Octavius divided the empire of the world between them. But the two were devoured by an equal ambition; and, although a common danger had for a time lulled their mutual suspicion and dislike, and forced them to act in unison, harmony between them could not long continue. Neither of them wished to share empire, and each was determined that the other, sooner or later, should be forced to renounce power, if not life itself. The repudiation of Octavia the sister of Octavius, by Antony, added increased fuel to the fires of hatred, and we learn from contemporary writers that clear-sighted persons not only foresaw that a death struggle between the two great leaders was only a question of time, but they predicted the result, as Antony, in the midst of feasts and other dissipation, was fast losing that activity of mind and body which had brought him his successes, and had, in former days, gained him the esteem and confidence of Cæsar.

While Antony was placing his laurels and his renown under the feet of an Egyptian queen, the cool and astute Octavius, never losing sight of the end he had in view, turned to his own aggrandizement and elevation, in the estimation of the Roman people, Antony’s disgraceful conduct.

The future Augustus, with the full consent of the Senate, raised fresh legions in Italy, equipped a fleet, and made every preparation for an enterprise upon which was to depend the control of the whole civilized world.

As if Antony had taken pains to furnish his already too powerful rival with the pretexts which should serve as a mask to his ambitious views, the former caused general disgust and indignation at Rome by dismembering the Empire--so to speak--in the interests of Cleopatra, whom he proclaimed Queen of Cyprus, Cilicia, Cœlesyria, Arabia and Judea; while he gave to the two sons whom he had had by her the title of “King of Kings.” This insane defiance of the susceptibility and pride of the Republic was one of the principal causes of Antony’s destruction. People ceased to fear him when they learned that he had become habitually intemperate; and they no longer saw in him a redoubtable and successful Roman general, but an Eastern Satrap, plunged in pleasure and debauchery.

Octavius, affecting rather contempt than anger at Antony’s proceedings, declared war against Cleopatra only, and seemed to regard Antony as already deprived of the power and majesty which he had sullied in committing them to the hands of the Egyptian queen.

Octavius could only raise on the Italian peninsula, then exhausted by civil war, 80,000 legionaries, with 12,000 cavalry, and two hundred and fifty ships--a small force to oppose to the five hundred ships and 120,000 men of Antony, without counting the allied troops which his rival was able to bring against him. But, more active and daring than Antony, he had, with astonishing celerity, collected his forces, and crossed the Ionian Sea, while Antony was lingering in Samos, and indulging in all sorts of debasing pleasures, with little thought devoted to preparation for the inevitable and momentous struggle.

At last the imminence of the danger awoke him to the realities surrounding him, and he brought forward his powerful fleet, anchoring it near the promontory of Actium, in Epirus, ready to oppose the advance of Octavius.

His ships were double in number those of the Romans, well armed and equipped, but heavy, and badly manned, so that their manœuvres did not compare in celerity with those of the western fleet.

Although Octavius had fewer ships and fewer men, those which he had were Romans; and he was fighting, ostensibly, to vindicate the wounded pride and honor of his country, which had been trampled under foot by Antony and a stranger queen.

The generals of Antony united in imploring him not to confide his destiny to the uncertainty of winds and waves, but to give battle on shore, where, they answered for it, victory would perch upon their banners. But Antony remained deaf to their supplications, and Cleopatra, who had joined him with seventy Egyptian ships, also preferred to fight a naval battle; it is said, in order that, if her lover was vanquished, she herself could more easily escape.

Boldly searching for Antony, the Roman fleet came in contact with his, near the promontory of Actium.

On opposite shores of the bay partly formed by that promontory lay the two armies, spectators of a conflict which was to decide their fate, but in which they were not to join.

The wind and weather were both favorable, but the two fleets remained for a long time opposite to each other, as if hesitating to begin the struggle, the issue of which was fraught with such momentous consequences.

Antony had confided the command of his left wing to Cœlius; the centre to Marcus Octavius and Marcus Inteius; while he himself, with Valerius Publicola, assumed command of the right wing.

The fleet of Octavius was commanded by Agrippa, to whom all the glory of the victory is due. Octavius and his admiral at first regarded with surprise and uneasiness the immobility of the enemy, who were ensconced in the arm of the sea, which sheet of water contained many shoals and reefs, and therefore, if the enemy remained there, deprived Octavius of the advantage to be derived from the rapidity of manœuvre of his vessels.

But Antony’s officers, eager to show their prowess, proceeded to get their left wing under way, and moved to the attack of Octavius’ right. The latter, taking advantage of this false move, made a retrograde movement, and endeavored to draw out the whole opposing force from their commanding position unto the high sea, where the Romans would have room to manœuvre, and thereby successfully assail Antony’s heavier vessels.

At this moment the scene was grand. The flashing of arms, and glinting of the sun upon polished casques, the streaming flags, and thousands of oars simultaneously put in motion, gave life and animation; while the blare of the brazen trumpets and the shouts of the myriads of combatants were echoed from the shores by the cheers and cries of two large armies, each encouraging its own fleet, and inciting them to the greater exertion.

Cleopatra’s large and magnificent galley hovered in the rear of the fleet, with the purple sails furled, and the poop occupied by herself and her ladies, surrounded by all the splendor of the Egyptian court.

Thinking, as we have said, that Octavius’ fleet fled before them, Antony and his commanders abandoned their advantageous position, and followed Agrippa out to sea.

Once there, the Roman fleet quickly put about, in good order, and a terrible battle at once began--Roman disputing with Roman the empire of the world.

At last an able movement of Agrippa caused Antony’s centre to give way; but despite the disorder which resulted, the action was steadily maintained, the losses on each side being about equal, and victory undecided.

The force of Agrippa made up by celerity of movement for the greater number of Antony’s fleet, and the battle was at its height, when, suddenly, Cleopatra, panic-stricken by the noise and dreadful carnage, gave a signal for retreat, hoisted her purple sails, and, with the whole Egyptian contingent, retreated rapidly, leaving a great gap in the line of battle. Some were sunk by the beaks of their pursuers, but the majority made their escape, and were soon far from the scene.

This shameful action should have opened Antony’s eyes, and have stimulated him--being even yet superior in numbers--to repair by renewed exertions the defection of the beautiful queen. But his movements seemed to be controlled by her’s, and, forgetting his own honor, his former glory, his empire, and his duty as commander, as a soldier and as a man, he abandoned the brave seamen and soldiers who were fighting for him, and took a fast, light vessel, and followed the woman who had been his ruin, and at whose shrine he was about to offer as a sacrifice the dishonor of Cæsar’s greatest lieutenant.

It is said that for some time he sat upon the deck, his head bowed between his hands, and wrapped in his own thoughts. But he only regained sufficient command of himself to resolve to protect the cause of his ruin. He therefore continued his flight to the promontory of Tenaros; and then soon after learned of the entire defeat of his fleet.

Even after being thus shamefully abandoned by their commander, his troops and sailors had for a long time; maintained the combat; but bad weather coming on they at last surrendered, after a loss of five thousand killed, and having three hundred ships captured, with their crews.

For a long time the land forces of Antony could not believe in his defection, and looked for him to reappear, and, at their head, redeem the fortunes of the sea fight. Indeed, for many days after the victory they declined the overtures of Octavius. But at last, despairing of Antony’s return, their general, with his principal officers and the troops, passed under the banners of Octavius. This event left him the undisputed master of the world.

Upon his return to Rome he was decreed a three days’ triumph, and he now assumed in public the imperial powers which he had long virtually possessed.

The shocking death of both Antony and Cleopatra, by suicide, hardly belongs to the account of Actium, although the direct consequence of the overwhelming defeat there sustained.

V.

LEPANTO. A. D. 1571.

Sixteen hundred years after Actium another great naval battle took place upon the coast of Greece. It was of momentous importance, as it is not too much to say that it decided the future fate and sovereignty of at least the eastern part of Europe.

Before we speak of Lepanto, however, it may be well to glance at naval events for two or three centuries previous to the eventful year 1571.

After the Republic of Venice had become strong, their first great sea fight was with the Saracens, then a terror to all the Christian nations of the Mediterranean. The Venetians, at the solicitation of the Emperor Theodosius, coöperated with the Greeks against their implacable enemy. The hostile fleets met at Crotona, in the Gulf of Taranto, where the Greeks fled at the first onset of the Saracens, leaving their Venetian allies to fight against vastly superior numbers. In spite of their courage and constancy, which maintained the unequal fight for many hours, the Venetians were defeated, and lost nearly every one of the sixty ships which they took into the fight.

Twenty-five years afterwards the Venetian fleet met the Saracens again, almost in the very spot of their former discomfiture, and obtained a splendid victory; and their naval fights continued, almost without intermission, and with varying fortunes; the Venetians, on the whole, holding their own.

On February 13th, 1353, there was a remarkable naval fight between the allied fleets of Venice, Aragon, and Constantinople, and the Genoese fleet, under the command of the redoubtable Paganino Doria. The Genoese were victorious.

In spite of the successful achievements of Doria, which should have brought him the respect and support of his countrymen, he was supplanted by his bitter foe, Antonio Grimaldi, who was put in command of the fleet. He was, not long after, defeated by the allied fleets of Spain and Venice, with tremendous loss. Grimaldi, thereupon, fell out of favor; and the next year the Genoese were obliged to again place Doria in command of their fleet, with which he gained a great victory over the Venetians at Porto Longo, capturing the whole of their fleet.

Peace between the two Republics was then made, and continued until 1378, when war was again declared. Victor Pisani, in command of the fleet of Venice, had a successful battle with the Genoese off Actium, the scene of the wonderful fight just before the commencement of the Christian era.

In 1379 Pisani was forced by the Venetian Senate, against his own judgment, to fight a far superior Genoese fleet, under Luciano Doria, off Pola, in the Adriatic. The Venetian fleet was almost annihilated, and Pisani, on his return, was loaded with chains, and thrown into a dungeon. The Genoese, after burning several Venetian towns upon the Adriatic, appeared off Venice, entered the lagoon, took Chioggia, and filled the Venetians with consternation and terror. The people flocked to the Piazza San Marco, in thousands, and demanded that Pisani be restored to the command of the fleet. The authorities were at their wits’ ends, and consented, while Pisani, with true patriotism, condoned his wrongs and ill treatment, and applied himself at once to the work of organization. After unheard of exertions he succeeded in discomfiting the enemy, and Venice was saved.

Pisani afterwards made a cruise in command of the fleet on the Asiatic coast, but, worn out by hard service and his former ill treatment, he died soon after his return, to the common sorrow and remorse of all Venetians.