Plutarch · a new plain-English translation from the original language
Marcus Claudius, who held the consulship of the Romans five times, was, they say, the son of a Marcus, and was called by his household the first Marcellus, which means "little Mars," as Posidonius tells us. For he was skilled in the experience of war, robust of body, a hard striker with his hand, and by nature devoted to fighting, and in this displayed much pride and haughtiness in his contests,
but in every other way he was temperate, humane, and such a lover of Greek education and learning as to honor and admire those who excelled in it, though he himself, because of his engagements, was not able to practice and learn as much as he was eager to. For if to some other men, as Homer has said, the god gave harsh wars to wage from youth to old age, this was true also of those Romans who then held the first place,
men who while young fought the Carthaginians around Sicily, in their prime fought the Gauls on behalf of Italy itself, and now growing old were locked again in struggle with Hannibal and the Carthaginians, not having, as most men do, a release from campaigning because of old age, but being drawn on to commands in war and to leadership by their nobility and virtue.
Marcellus was idle and unpracticed in no kind of fighting, and being his own best in single combat, he shrank from no challenge, and killed all who challenged him. In Sicily he saved his brother Otacilius when he was in danger, shielding him and killing those who were attacking,
in return for which, while he was still young, crowns and prizes were given him by the generals, and when he grew more esteemed the people appointed him aedile of the more distinguished rank, and the priests made him augur. This is a kind of priesthood whose office is especially to watch and observe the divination from birds, as the law has ordained.
While serving as aedile he was forced to bring an unwelcome prosecution. He had a son of the same name, in the bloom of youth, conspicuous in appearance, and no less admired by the citizens for his self-control and education; and Capitolinus, the colleague of Marcellus, a wanton and reckless man, made advances to him with words of desire. The boy at first rebuffed the attempt on his own, but when the man tried again, he told his father, and Marcellus, taking it hard, denounced the man to the senate.
The man contrived many evasions and pleas of exception, appealing to the tribunes, but when they refused to admit his appeal, he took refuge in denial of the charge; and since no witness had come forward regarding the words spoken, it was decided to summon the boy before the senate, and when he appeared, seeing his blush and his tears mixed with an unceasing indignation and shame, they required no other proof and condemned Capitolinus, fining him money, from which Marcellus had silver libation-vessels made and consecrated to the gods.
The First Carthaginian War having reached its close after twenty-two years of fighting, fresh trouble with the Gauls once more seized Rome's attention, for the Insubres, who dwell at the foot of the Italian Alps, a great Celtic nation in their own right, mustered their forces and called in besides those hired Gallic fighters known as Gaesatae,
and it seemed a wonder and a piece of good fortune that the Celtic war had not broken out at the same time as the Libyan one, but that the Gauls, as though holding themselves in reserve, had rightly and fairly remained still while the others were fighting, and now, when the war was over, set upon the victors and challenged them while they had leisure; nevertheless the region caused great fear, because of its nearness in the coming war close at hand, and because the Gauls had long been dreaded above every other foe by the Romans, who once before had lost their own city to them,
and from that time onward a statute was passed exempting priests from soldiering, unless a fresh Gallic war should threaten them again. Their fear was also shown by their preparations, for so many tens of thousands of Romans are said never before nor since to have been under arms at once, and by the innovations made in their sacrifices;
for though in nothing else did they practice anything barbarous or foreign, but held as nearly as possible to Greek beliefs and were gentle toward matters of religion, yet when this war fell upon them they were forced to yield to certain oracles from the Sibylline books, and interred alive a pair of Greeks, one man and one woman, together with a pair of Gauls, at the site known as the Forum Boarium, for whom even now, in the month of November, they perform secret and unwitnessed rites for Greeks and Gauls.
The first of these contests, then, though they brought the Romans great victories and great reverses, came to no firm conclusion; but when the consuls Flaminius and Furius marched out against the Insubres with large forces, the river that flows through the country of Picenum was seen running with blood, and it was said that three moons appeared near the city of Ariminum,
and the priests who watched the omens at the consular elections insisted that the proclamations of the consuls had been attended by evil and inauspicious birds. At once the senate sent letters to the camp, calling and summoning the consuls to return as quickly as possible and resign their office, and to do nothing further as consuls against the enemy;
having received these letters, Flaminius did not open them until he had joined battle, routed the barbarians, and overrun their country. When he returned with much booty, the crowd withheld their welcome from him; it was rather that, since he had disregarded the summons and refused to heed the letters, showing contempt and insolence instead, they very nearly voted his triumph down, and though they finally allowed him to celebrate it, they afterward reduced him to a private citizen, forcing him and his colleague alike to give up the consulship,
so much did the Romans refer all their affairs to the god, and they would not tolerate contempt of divination and ancestral custom even amid the greatest successes, judging it more vital to the city's preservation that its leaders show reverence toward heaven than that they should conquer their enemies.
Tiberius Sempronius, then, a man beloved by the Romans as much as any for his courage and nobility of character, while consul appointed Scipio Nasica and Gaius Marcius as his successors; but when they already held their provinces and armies, he came upon certain priestly records and found that he himself had unknowingly neglected one of the ancestral rites, which was as follows:
whenever a magistrate, sitting to observe the birds outside the city, having hired a house or tent, is forced by some cause to return to the city before the signs have become certain, he must give up the house he had previously hired and take another, from which he is to begin his observation anew from the start. This had escaped Tiberius, it seems, and having used the same house twice he had declared the aforesaid men consuls. Later, learning of his error, he reported it to the senate.
The senate did not treat this small lapse with contempt, but wrote to the men; and they, abandoning their provinces, returned to Rome quickly and laid down their office. But this was done later; around that same time also two most distinguished priests were deprived of their priesthoods, Cornelius Cethegus, because he had presented the entrails of the sacrificial victim out of proper order,
and Quintus Sulpicius, because during a sacrifice he was performing, the pointed cap slipped off the head of the chief priest — the cap worn by those called flamens. And when the dictator Minucius appointed Gaius Flaminius as his master of horse, since the squeak of a mouse — the kind they call sorex — was heard, they voted them out and appointed others in their place, keeping such precision even in matters so small, without mixing in any superstition, by never changing or overstepping their ancestral customs.
So then, when Flaminius and his colleague had renounced their office, Marcellus was appointed consul through those called the interreges, and taking up office he appointed as his colleague Gnaeus Cornelius. It is said that though the Gauls made many conciliatory proposals, and the senate wished for peace, Marcellus roused
the people to war; nevertheless, even after peace had been made, the Gaesatae seem to have renewed the war, crossing the Alps and rousing the Insubres; for being thirty thousand strong they joined those who were many times their number, and full of confidence they at once marched on Acerrae, a city built above the river Po. From there their king Britomatus took a contingent of ten thousand Gaesatae and laid waste the country along the Po.
On learning of this, Marcellus stationed his colleague at Acerrae along with the entire heavy and light infantry and one third of the horsemen, while he himself, taking the remaining cavalry together with roughly six hundred of the most lightly equipped foot soldiers, pressed forward without slackening his pace by day or by night, until he came upon that same body of ten thousand Gaesatae at a spot called Clastidium, a Gallic settlement that had only recently passed under Roman control.
He had no opportunity to rest and refresh his army, for he quickly gave the barbarians notice of his arrival, and he was held in contempt, since he had with him altogether few infantry, while the Celts thought nothing of his cavalry, being themselves the strongest in fighting on horseback and thought to excel in this above all, and at that time they far outnumbered Marcellus as well. At once, therefore, they charged at him with great violence and terrible threats, as though to sweep him away, with their king riding before them,
and Marcellus, so that they might not surround and encircle him while his numbers were so few, led his squadrons of cavalry far out and rode around, thinning his line, until he had drawn a little way from the enemy. And now, as he was turning to charge, it happened that his horse, startled by the fierce bearing of the enemy, shied away and carried Marcellus back by force.
Fearing that this might cause panic among the Romans out of superstition, he quickly wrenched the horse's head around with the bit and turned it to face the enemy, and himself made obeisance to the sun, as though he had used the turning not by chance but for this very purpose; for it is the Roman custom to worship the gods by turning in this way. And now, closing with the enemy, he vowed to Jupiter Feretrius that he would consecrate to him the finest of the enemy's arms.
Meanwhile the king of the Gauls, catching sight of him and judging from his insignia that this was the commander, rode out far ahead of the others to meet him, shouting a challenge as he came and brandishing his spear, a man outstanding among the Gauls in bodily size, and conspicuous in armor bright with silver and gold and dyed colors and every kind of ornament, gleaming like lightning.
So then, when Marcellus, surveying the enemy line, judged this armor to be the finest and supposed it was against this man that he had made his vow to the god, he charged at him, and piercing his breastplate with his spear and driving it home with the impetus of his horse he overthrew him while still alive, and dealing him a second and a third blow killed him at once.
Springing down off his horse, and placing his hands on the fallen man's armor, he said, gazing upward toward the sky: "O Jupiter Feretrius, who look upon the great deeds and doings of generals and commanders in wars and battles, I call you to witness that I, the third Roman commander, ruler myself, have with my own hand slain and killed this ruler and king, and I consecrate to you the first and finest of the spoils; grant like fortune to those who press on to what remains of this war."
After this the cavalry engaged, not fighting as separate bodies of horsemen, but also charging together against the infantry who came against them at the same time, and they won a victory extraordinary and unprecedented both in kind and manner; for it is said that never before nor since have so many horsemen defeated at once so many horsemen and infantry together. Having killed the greater number and taken possession of their arms and money, he returned to his colleague, who was faring poorly in the fight against the Celts around the largest and most heavily populated of the Gallic towns.
It is called Mediolanum, and the Celts of that region regard it as their capital; hence they fought with great spirit for it and besieged Cornelius in return. But once Marcellus arrived, and once the Gaesatae, hearing that their king had been defeated and killed, pulled back, the city fell, and the remaining Celts likewise gave up their towns and placed all their affairs in Roman hands. And these, having obtained moderate terms, had peace.
When the senate voted a triumph to Marcellus alone, he rode into the city, in other respects a marvel of splendor and wealth and spoils and the huge bodies of captives among a few chosen men, but the sweetest and most novel sight of all he offered was himself, carrying to the god the full armor of the barbarian.
For cutting a tall and great trunk of a well-grown oak, and shaping it like a trophy, he bound it up and hung upon it the spoils, arranging and fitting each piece in order. When the procession went forward he himself mounted the four-horse chariot, taking up the trophy-bearing image, the fairest and most conspicuous of any that had ever been carried, and rode in triumph through the city, while the army followed, adorned with their finest arms, singing songs that had been composed for the occasion and paeans of victory to the god and to their general.
So advancing thus, he entered the shrine of Jupiter Feretrius and there dedicated and laid up the spoils, being the third and last man to accomplish this down to our own age; for first Romulus brought back spoils from Acron the Caeninensian, second Cornelius Cossus from Tolumnius the Tyrrhenian, and after them Marcellus from Britomartus, king of the Gauls, and after Marcellus no one else.
Now the god to whom the offering is made is called Jupiter Feretrius, as some say, from the trophy that is 'carried' (pheretron), since much of the Greek tongue was in that age still mixed with the Latin; but others say the surname belongs to Jupiter as the hurler of thunderbolts, for the Romans call striking 'ferire.' Others again say the name arose from the blow dealt to the enemy; for even now in battles, when the Romans pursue their foes, they call out constantly to one another 'feri,' that is, 'strike.' The spoils in general they call 'spolia,' but these particular ones, taken by a general from a general, they call 'opima.'
And yet Numa Pompilius, they say, mentions in his memoirs a first, second, and third grade of spoils opima, decreeing that the first-won should be dedicated to Jupiter Feretrius, while the second went to Mars and the third to Quirinus, and that the winner of the first should be awarded three hundred asses, the second two hundred, and the third a hundred. The more common view, however, holds that spoils only count as opima when armies stand arrayed in battle and one commander kills another commander with his own hand during the initial clash. On this matter, then, so much may be said.
The Romans took such delight in that triumph and in the war's conclusion that they even sent to Delphi a golden bowl of many pounds' weight as a thank-offering to the Pythian god, and gave liberally a share of the spoils to the allied cities, and sent much to Hiero, king of the Syracusans, who was their friend and ally.
When Hannibal invaded Italy, Marcellus was sent to Sicily leading a fleet; but when the disaster at Cannae befell, and no small number of tens of thousands of Romans perished in that battle, while few of the survivors fled together to Canusium, there was an expectation that Hannibal would at once march upon Rome, having destroyed the greatest part of her power.
First Marcellus sent from his ships a garrison of fifteen hundred men to the city; then, once the senate's decree reached him, he made his way to Canusium, and gathering up those assembled there, led them out from behind their fortifications, as one who did not mean to abandon the countryside. Of the leading and capable men among the Romans some had died in the battles, and Fabius Maximus, who had the greatest reputation for trustworthiness and good judgment, was blamed for being too exact in his calculations to avoid suffering harm, as though this made him slow to act and lacking in daring.
And thinking him sufficient for safety, but not adequate as a general for defense in arms, they looked to Marcellus, and blending and fitting his boldness and vigor together with the other's caution and foresight, they sent them out sometimes both together as consuls, sometimes in turn, the one as consul, the other as proconsul.
Posidonius says that Fabius was called 'the shield' and Marcellus 'the sword'; and Hannibal is said to have declared that Fabius was the one he dreaded as a teacher, while Marcellus was the one he dreaded as a foe in the field—since the former kept him from inflicting any injury at all, while the latter also made him actually endure it.
First then, when much slackness and boldness had come upon Hannibal's soldiers from their victories, Marcellus, falling upon those who scattered from the camp and ranged over the countryside, cut them down and wore away his strength; then, going to the aid of Neapolis and Nola, he strengthened the Neapolitans, who of themselves stood firm for Rome, but on entering Nola he found faction there, the senate being unable to manage and restrain the populace, who inclined toward Hannibal.
For there was a certain man foremost in the city for noble birth and conspicuous for courage, named Bandius. This man had distinguished himself in the fighting at Cannae, cutting down a great number of Carthaginians, but in the end was discovered lying among the fallen, his body covered with many wounds; Hannibal, admiring him, not only released him without ransom but even added gifts and made him a friend and guest-friend.
In return for this kindness, Bandius was one of those most eager for Hannibal's cause, and having great influence with the populace was leading them toward revolt. But Marcellus thought it no pious thing to destroy a man so brilliant in fortune and one who had shared in the greatest struggles of the Romans; and being naturally kindly, and persuasive in conversation besides, being able to win over an ambitious disposition, when Bandius once greeted him he asked him who among men he was, though he had long known well, seeking rather an occasion and pretext for engaging with him, as he said,
"Lucius Bandius," and Marcellus, feigning delight and astonishment, said, "Are you truly that Bandius whom the veterans of Cannae in Rome talk of so much, the single man who would not desert the commander Paulus Aemilius, but caught on his own frame the greater part of the weapons hurled at him, drawing them onto himself?"
And when Bandius admitted this and showed him some of his wounds, Marcellus said, "Then bearing such tokens of your friendship toward us, did you not come to me at once? Or do you think us so base as to repay the virtue of friends with ingratitude, we for whom honor is held even among our enemies?" Having spoken kindly and taken his hand, he gave him besides a war-horse and five hundred silver drachmas.
From this time Bandius was Marcellus's most steadfast companion and ally, and the most terrible informer and accuser of those who held the opposite view. And there were many such men, and they schemed that, each time the Romans marched out to face the enemy, they themselves would plunder the baggage-train.
For this reason Marcellus, having drawn up his forces within the city, stationed the baggage-train beside the gates, and by proclamation forbade the people of Nola to come near the walls. There was thus an emptiness of arms to be seen, which drew Hannibal on to advance rather carelessly, as though those within the city were in disorder. Meanwhile Marcellus, having ordered the gate on his own side to be thrown open, rode out with the finest of his horsemen, and falling upon the enemy's front engaged them closely.
A little after, the infantry went out by another gate at a run and with a shout; and as Hannibal again divided his forces against these, the third gate was opened, and through it the rest poured out and pressed upon the enemy from every side, who were struck with astonishment at the unexpected attack and defended themselves badly against those already at close quarters because of those coming up behind. And there, for the first time, Hannibal's men gave way before the Romans, being driven with great slaughter and many wounds back to their camp.
The report is that upward of five thousand of them lost their lives, whereas Roman losses came to no more than five hundred. Livy, however, does not affirm so confidently that so great a defeat occurred, nor that so many of the enemy fell dead, but he says that great glory came to Marcellus and the Romans, and a wondrous courage arose out of their misfortunes from that battle, since it showed the enemy not as invincible or unconquerable, but as one who, when fought hard, could also suffer harm.
Wherefore also, when one of the consuls had died, the people summoned Marcellus, though absent, to the succession, and by force overruled the magistrates to postpone the election until he came from the camp. And he was chosen consul by every vote; but when the god thundered, and the priests declared the sign not favorable, though they were reluctant to hinder him openly, fearing the people, he himself renounced the office.
Yet he did not flee from military service, but being proclaimed proconsul and returning again to Nola to the camp, he did harm to those who had chosen the cause of the Phoenician. And when Hannibal came to their aid with swift relief, he was unwilling to fight it out when challenged to a set battle, but once Hannibal had set most of his troops to plundering and no longer looked for a battle, Marcellus marched out to meet him, having distributed to his infantry the long spears used by sea-fighters, and having taught them, keeping their distance, to strike the Carthaginians, who were not javelin-throwers but used short spears at close quarters.
Wherefore it seems that then, for the first time, all those Carthaginians who engaged showed their backs to the Romans and fled outright, losing of their own number five thousand slain and six hundred taken prisoner, and of the elephants four fallen and two taken alive. And greatest of all, within three days after the fight, upward of three hundred cavalrymen, Iberians mixed with Numidians, went over to the Roman side—something that had never before happened to Hannibal, who had for the longest time held together, in a single purpose, an army of barbarians drawn from many varied and diverse nations. These men, indeed, stayed loyal from then on, both under Marcellus and under the commanders who came after him.
Marcellus, now declared consul for a third term, set sail for Sicily; for Hannibal's wartime triumphs had emboldened the Carthaginians to press their claim on the island once more, especially since affairs around Syracuse were much disturbed after the death of Hieronymus the tyrant. For this reason a Roman force had already been sent there before, with Appius as general.
As Marcellus took over this force, many Romans fell upon him who had met with such a misfortune as this: of those arrayed at Cannae against Hannibal, some had fled, others had been taken alive, so great a multitude that it seemed to the Romans hardly enough men were left even to guard the walls.
Yet such was their pride and greatness of spirit that, when Hannibal offered to return the captives for a small ransom, they refused to take them, but voted against it and looked on while some were put to death and others sold outside of Italy, and sent away to Sicily the multitude of those who had survived by flight, directing that they were not to set foot on Italian soil for as long as the war with Hannibal continued.
These men, then, when Marcellus arrived, fell upon him all together, and casting themselves down upon the ground, begged with much crying and weeping for a place in honorable military service, promising to show by their deeds that their rout had come about through some misfortune rather than through cowardice. Marcellus, moved to compassion for them, sent a letter to the senate requesting permission always to replenish his army's shortfall using these men,
but after much debate the senate resolved that the Roman state had no need of cowardly men for public affairs; yet if Marcellus wished to use them, he might, on condition that none of them should obtain any of the crowns or rewards customarily given for valor. This decree vexed Marcellus, and when he returned after the war in Sicily he blamed the senate for not granting him, in exchange for so many great services, the chance to restore so great a number of unfortunate citizens.
At that time in Sicily, first having been wronged by Hippocrates the general, who, to gratify the Carthaginians and to win a tyranny for himself, destroyed many Romans near Leontini, Marcellus took the city of the Leontines by force, and did no wrong to the Leontines themselves, but scourged and killed as many deserters as he caught.
When Hippocrates had first sent word ahead to Syracuse that Marcellus was slaughtering the Leontines to a man, and then, falling upon the Syracusans while they were in confusion, seized the city, Marcellus set out with his whole army toward Syracuse. And having encamped nearby, he sent ambassadors to explain the truth about what had happened at Leontini; but since this was of no use, the Syracusans not being persuaded—for the party of Hippocrates held the upper hand—
he made assaults by land and sea together, Appius leading the infantry force, while he himself, with sixty quinqueremes full of every kind of arms and missiles, and having raised up a siege-engine upon a great platform of eight ships bound together, sailed against the wall, trusting in the size and splendor of his preparation and in his own reputation; but of all this there was no account whatever in the face of Archimedes and the machines of Archimedes.
Yet the man himself had set no store on these as works worthy of serious effort, but most of them had come about as by-products of geometry at play, since formerly King Hiero had been eager and had persuaded Archimedes to turn some part of his art from things purely intellectual to things bodily, and by mixing his reasoning somehow through the medium of sense-perception with practical needs, to make it more evident to the many.
For this beloved and much-talked-of science of mechanics was first set in motion by the followers of Eudoxus and Archytas, who embellished geometry with elegance, and supported problems not easily proved by logical and linear demonstration through sensible and mechanical illustrations—as, for instance, the problem of finding two mean proportionals, which is a necessary element in many geometrical constructions, both of them reduced to mechanical devices, fitting certain mean-lines derived from curved lines and sections.
But when Plato grew indignant and protested to them that they were ruining and corrupting the good of geometry, which was deserting the incorporeal and intelligible for the realm of the senses, and making use once more of bodies that require a great deal of vulgar manual labor, mechanics was in this way separated off and expelled from geometry, and, long looked down upon by philosophy, became one of the military arts.
Archimedes himself, a relative and close friend of King Hiero, sent him a letter claiming that any weight whatsoever could be shifted using a given amount of force; growing bold, so the story goes, on account of how compelling his proof was, he asserted that, given another earth on which to plant his feet, he could shift this one by transferring himself over to it.
Hiero was amazed, and asked him to put the problem into actual effect and to show some great weight set in motion by a small force. So Archimedes fixed upon a merchant ship of three masts belonging to the king's fleet, which had been hauled up on land with great labor and by many hands; loading it with many men and its customary cargo, he himself sat at a distance, and without effort, but gently shaking with his hand the end of a certain compound pulley, drew the ship toward him smoothly and evenly, as though it were gliding over the sea.
The king was astonished, and, grasping the power of the art, persuaded Archimedes to construct for him machines suited both to defense and to attack, for every kind of siege warfare, machines which he himself never had occasion to use, since he lived out most of his life without war, amid festivity; but at that time the apparatus stood ready for the Syracusans in their need, and along with the apparatus, its maker.
So when the Romans attacked from two sides, there was consternation among the Syracusans and a silence born of fear, since they supposed nothing could hold out against so great a force and power. But when Archimedes released his engines, all at once there flew against the infantry missiles of every kind and stones of enormous size, descending with a rushing sound and unbelievable speed, and their weight, which nothing could withstand, threw down in heaps those who fell in their path and threw the ranks into confusion,
while against the ships, beams suddenly swung out over the walls: some ships they sank by pressing down on them from above with great weight, while others they seized at the prow with iron hands or beaks shaped like the beaks of cranes, hoisted upright onto their sterns, and plunged under; still others, spun around within by means of ropes drawn taut from the inside and turned about, were dashed against the cliffs and crags lying beneath the wall, with great destruction of the men on board,
and often a ship, lifted up out of the sea into midair, would spin round and hang there, a terrifying spectacle, until, its men having been thrown out and flung in every direction, it would come crashing down empty against the walls, or slip from the grip as the device released it. As for the engine which Marcellus brought up from the floating bridge, it was called the sambuca, because of a certain resemblance in its shape to the musical instrument,
while it was still approaching the wall from a distance, a stone weighing ten talents was shot out at it, then a second after it, and a third; some of these, striking it with a great crash and surge, shattered the base of the machine, shook loose its bolts, and tore it apart from the floating bridge, so that Marcellus, at a loss, sailed away in haste with his ships and passed the order to his infantry to withdraw.
In council they decided, if they could, to close in on the walls while it was still night; for the cables which Archimedes used, they reasoned, being under great tension, would send their missiles flying overhead, but at close quarters would be wholly ineffective, since the blow would have no distance in which to build force. But he, as it turned out, had long since prepared for this too: engines with a range adjusted to any distance whatever, and short missiles, and, since the wall had not large but many closely-set openings through it, short-range scorpions stood ready close at hand, unseen by the enemy, to strike them.
So when they closed in, thinking themselves unnoticed, once again they met with a great many missiles and blows: rocks came down on them from directly overhead as if by a plumb line, while the wall sent arrows raining down from every side, and they withdrew back.
And there again, stretched into a long formation, they suffered heavy losses and violent collisions among their ships as projectiles shot out and struck them while retreating, and they had no way to retaliate, since most of Archimedes' engines had been built to operate from below the fortification; it looked to the Romans as though they were battling divine powers, so many disasters were raining down on them from a source they could not even see.
Nevertheless Marcellus got away safely, and, joking with the engineers and craftsmen who were with him, said, "Shall we not stop making war on this geometrical Briareus, who uses our ships to ladle water from the sea, and who has beaten our sambuca with disgrace and cast it out, and who outdoes the hundred-handed giants of myth by hurling so many missiles at us at once?"
For in reality every other Syracusan amounted merely to the framework of Archimedes' machinery, whereas he alone functioned as the one animating spirit setting everything in motion and command; every other weapon they possessed sat unused, and at that time the city relied on his devices alone for both offense and protection.
At last Marcellus, seeing the Romans grown so fearful that if so much as a small rope or piece of wood were seen projecting over the wall, they would cry out, "There it is, Archimedes is setting some engine in motion against us," and turn to flee, gave up all fighting and assault, and thereafter conducted the siege by waiting it out. So great was the loftiness of spirit and depth of soul, and so vast the wealth of theorems Archimedes possessed, that though he had won a name and reputation not for human but for almost divine understanding,
he was unwilling to leave behind any treatise on these matters, but, considering the business of mechanics and every art that touches on practical use to be ignoble and vulgar, he devoted his ambition only to those studies in which the beautiful and the extraordinary are present unmixed with the necessary — studies incomparable to others, yet vying with their subject matter in demonstration, the one furnishing greatness and beauty, the other precision and a power beyond nature.
For nowhere else in geometry can one discover harder or more consequential problems handled in plainer, more unadorned language; and some attribute this to the natural gift of the man, others think that behind what seems to have been done without effort and easily lies an extraordinary amount of labor: for searching on one's own, one could not find the proof, yet as soon as one learns it, one gets the impression that one could have discovered it oneself, so smooth and swift a path does he lead one along to what is being shown.
Nor is it possible to disbelieve the things said about him, how, bewitched always by some familiar siren dwelling with him, he would forget to eat and neglect the care of his body, and, when dragged by force to be anointed and bathed, would draw geometrical figures in the ashes of the hearth, and trace lines with his finger in the oil on his own body, possessed by great pleasure and truly inspired by the Muses.
Though he produced many excellent discoveries, tradition holds that he requested of his friends and kinsmen that, once he had died, they set over his grave a cylinder with a sphere enclosed inside it, and carve upon it the proportion showing how much the enclosing figure surpasses the one it encloses.
Such, then, was Archimedes, and he kept himself and his city, as far as it lay in his power, unconquered. In the meantime, during the siege, Marcellus took Megara, one of the oldest of the Sicilian cities, and took the camp of Hippocrates near Acrillae, killing more than eight thousand men by falling upon them while they were building a palisade; he overran a large part of Sicily, brought cities over from their alliance with Carthage, and won every battle against those who dared to array themselves against him.
As time went on, he took captive as he sailed out of Syracuse a certain Damippus, a Spartan; and when the Syracusans asked to ransom the man back, in the course of many conversations and negotiations over this Marcellus reconnoitered a certain tower, guarded carelessly, but able to receive men secretly, since the wall was accessible at that point right beside it.
So then, its height having been well gauged from his frequent approaches and conversations at the tower, and ladders having been prepared, watching for the moment when the Syracusans were celebrating a festival to Artemis and given over to wine and play, he seized not only the tower unnoticed, but before day came had filled the wall all around with armed men, and had breached the Hexapyla.
When the Syracusans began to stir and grow alarmed at what was happening, he ordered the trumpets to be sounded from every side at once, and produced great flight and terror, since no part of the city seemed safe from capture; but the strongest, most beautiful, and greatest quarter, called Achradina, held out, because it was walled off from the outer city, of which one part they call Neapolis and the other Tyche.
Once he held these quarters, at dawn Marcellus made his way down by way of the Hexapyla, receiving congratulations from the commanders serving under him. He himself, however, is said to have looked down from above and, surveying the greatness and beauty of the city, to have wept a long while, in sympathy for what was about to happen, reflecting on what form and shape it would soon exchange for another, once scattered and torn apart by the army.
For none of the officers dared to oppose the soldiers, who demanded to profit by plunder, and many even urged that it be burned and razed to the ground. But Marcellus rejected that proposal outright; though compelled and acting very much against his own wishes, he permitted the troops to take gain from the money and the slaves, yet he barred them from touching any of the freeborn inhabitants, and he issued firm commands that not a single Syracusan was to be killed, abused, or made a slave.
Nevertheless, although he seemed to have shown such restraint, he considered the city to be suffering pitiable things, and even amid so great a joy his soul revealed both sympathy and grief, as he watched, in so brief a time, the vanishing of great and splendid prosperity: for it is said that the wealth carried off then was no less than that later carried off from Carthage. For not long afterward, when the rest of the city was taken through betrayal, the soldiers were permitted by force to plunder it too, except for the royal treasures, which were set aside for the public treasury.
But nothing distressed Marcellus so much as the fate of Archimedes. As it happened, he was alone at the time, occupied with solving some problem by means of a figure he had drawn, and, having devoted both his attention and his gaze entirely to examining it, he did not notice the incursion of the Romans or the capture of the city; and when a soldier suddenly stood over him and ordered him to come along to Marcellus, he refused to go until he had finished the problem and worked it through to its proof.
The soldier, enraged, drew his sword and killed him. Others say that a Roman came upon him at once, sword in hand, meaning to kill him, and that Archimedes, seeing him, begged and pleaded with him to wait a short while, so that he might not leave the thing he was investigating incomplete and unproved; but the soldier, paying no heed, dispatched him.
And there is a third account, that as he was carrying to Marcellus his mathematical instruments — sundials and spheres and quadrants by which the size of the sun is fitted to the eye — soldiers came upon him and, thinking he was carrying gold in the case, killed him. It is agreed, however, that Marcellus was grieved, and turned away from the man's slayer as from someone accursed, and, having sought out his relatives, honored them.
The Romans were regarded by peoples outside their own as formidable in the waging of war and terrible to meet in battle, but as having given no examples of fair dealing, humanity, or civic virtue in general; Marcellus, it seems, was the first at that time to show the Greeks that the Romans could be more just than that,
such indeed was the way he dealt with those who came to an agreement with him, and so numerous were the cities and individuals who benefited from his conduct, that whenever something severe befell the inhabitants of Enna, Megara, or Syracuse, blame for it seemed to rest with the sufferers themselves rather than with those responsible for it. I will recall one example out of many: Sicily has a city, Engyium, small in size yet exceedingly old, renowned for an appearance there of certain goddesses known as the Mothers.
The shrine is said to have been founded by Cretans, and they used to show certain spears and bronze helmets, some bearing the name of Meriones, others that of Ulysses, that is, Odysseus, dedicated by them to the goddesses. This city, which was most eagerly inclined toward Carthage, Nicias, a leading citizen, tried to persuade to change sides to the Romans, speaking openly and frankly in the assemblies and exposing the folly of his opponents.
They, fearing his power and reputation, plotted to seize him and hand him over to the Phoenicians. Nicias, perceiving that he was already being secretly watched, began openly making remarks unbecoming toward the Mothers, and did many things contrary to their customary honor and reputation, as though he disbelieved and despised them—to the delight of his enemies, since he himself was furnishing the strongest ground for what he was about to suffer,
and when the preparations for his arrest were ready, there was an assembly of the citizens, and Nicias, in the middle of speaking and advising the people, suddenly let his body fall to the ground, and after a brief pause, as was natural, once silence fell amid the shock, he raised his head and turned it about, and in a trembling, heavy voice, gradually straining and sharpening the sound, as he saw the theater gripped by dread and silence, he flung off his cloak and tore his tunic, and leaping up half-naked he ran toward the exit of the theater, shouting that he was being driven on by the Mothers.
No one dared to lay a hand on him or even meet him, out of superstitious fear, but instead they turned aside, so he ran on out through the gates, sparing neither voice nor movement befitting one possessed and out of his mind. His wife, who was in on the plan and had contrived it together with her husband, took their children and first fell as a suppliant before the shrines of the goddesses, and then, pretending to search for him as he wandered, she left the city safely, with no one hindering her,
and thus they escaped safely to Syracuse and Marcellus. Yet once Marcellus arrived, angered by the many outrages and offenses the people of Engyum had committed, and put every one of them in chains meaning to punish them, Nicias came forward weeping, and finally clasped their hands and knees, pleading for mercy on the citizens' behalf, starting with his own personal enemies; Marcellus was moved and softened, so he set them all free, spared the city any harm, and rewarded Nicias with much land and many gifts. Such, at least, is the account left by the philosopher Posidonius.
When the Romans recalled Marcellus to the war at home among his own people, on his way back he removed the greatest and most beautiful of the dedications at Syracuse, so that they might serve as a spectacle for his triumph and an adornment for the city. For previously Rome had nothing of the refined and elaborate, nor was this grace and elegance cherished in her,
but crowded with foreign weapons and blood-stained plunder, and ringed all around by monuments and victory trophies, she offered no comfortable or reassuring view, nor one suited to timid, pleasure-loving onlookers; instead, just as Epaminondas dubbed the plain of Boeotia the “dancing-floor of Ares,” and Xenophon dubbed Ephesus a “workshop of war,” in the same way, I think, one could then have called Rome, in Pindar’s phrase, “the precinct of deep-warring Ares.”
For this reason Marcellus won greater favor with the people, for having adorned the city with sights possessing Greek charm, grace, and persuasive appeal; but among the elders Fabius Maximus was more esteemed, for he had removed nothing of the kind, nor carried anything away from the captured city of Tarentum, but while he took away the rest of the money and wealth, he let the statues remain, adding the memorable remark, “Let us leave,” he said,
“these gods to the Tarentines, since they are angry with them.” They found fault with Marcellus, first, for making the city an object of envy, since not only men but even gods, as it were, were being led captive in it and paraded in procession; and second, because the people, who were accustomed to make war or till the soil,
and had no acquaintance with luxury and idle ease—like the Heracles of Euripides, “plain, unadorned, in the greatest things good”—he now filled with idle hours and talk of arts and craftsmen, passing much of each day amid such amusements and diversions; and yet he still took pride in doing so, even before the Greeks themselves, claiming credit for teaching the Romans, who before had not known how to esteem and marvel at the beautiful and wondrous works of Greece, to do exactly that.
When his enemies opposed Marcellus over his triumph, since certain tasks were still unfinished in Sicily and a third triumph provoked envy, he himself agreed to drive the full, great triumph out to the Alban Mount, and to bring the lesser one down into the city—the one the Greeks call the “euan” and the Romans call the “ovation.”
He conducted it not mounted on a four-horse chariot, nor wearing a crown of laurel, nor to blaring trumpets, but on foot, in slippers, accompanied by very many flute-players, and wearing a crown of myrtle, so as to appear unwarlike and pleasant rather than terrifying—which to me is the strongest proof that triumphs were distinguished in ancient times by the manner of the achievement, not by its scale.
Commanders who had triumphed through combat and the killing of the enemy were led in that grim, Ares-like procession, following, it seems, the customary rite for purifying an army, wreathing both weapons and soldiers thickly in laurel; whereas commanders who never had to draw the sword, settling every dispute instead through diplomacy, persuasion, and reasoned speech, were granted by law this milder, more festive escort, as a kind of hymn of thanks,
for the flute, indeed, belongs to peacetime, while the myrtle is Aphrodite's own plant, she being of all deities the one most opposed to bloodshed and war. This lesser triumph is not named “ovans” for the shout “euoi,” as most suppose—since that cry, along with singing, does in fact accompany even the great triumph—but the Greeks have bent the term to their own familiar usage, persuaded that Dionysus, called by us Euios and Thriambos, holds some stake in the honor. Yet that is mistaken; rather, ancestral custom required generals to sacrifice an ox for the great triumph, but a sheep for this lesser one. Since the Romans call a sheep “ovis,” it is from this that they named the triumph “ovatio.”
It is worth also observing the Spartan lawgiver, who ordained sacrifices in a manner opposite to the Roman practice. For in Sparta, of returning generals, the one who has accomplished what he wished by deceit or persuasion sacrifices an ox, but the one who has done so by battle sacrifices a rooster. For though the Spartans were most warlike, they considered an achievement won through speech and understanding to be greater and more fitting for a human being than one won through force and courage. It is possible to consider how matters truly stand in this.
While Marcellus was consul for the fourth time, his enemies persuaded the Syracusans to come to Rome and lodge accusations, crying out before the Senate that they had suffered terrible and treaty-breaking wrongs. Marcellus happened at the time to be performing a certain sacrifice on the Capitol; and while the Senate was still in session, the Syracusans fell before it, begging to obtain a hearing and justice, but his fellow consul tried to drive them off,
being indignant on Marcellus’s behalf because he was not present. But Marcellus, as soon as he heard, came at once, and first sat in the consul’s chair and conducted business as consul; then, when the other matters were finished, he stepped down from the chair and, standing like a private citizen in the place where defendants are accustomed to speak, gave the Syracusans leave to make their case against him.
They were thrown into terrible confusion by the man’s dignity and confidence, and thought that his unbearable presence under arms was even more fearsome and hard to face in the purple-bordered toga. Nevertheless, encouraged by those at odds with Marcellus, they began their accusation and went through a plea mixed with lamentation,
amounting to this: that although they stood as friends and allies of Rome, they had endured treatment that many an enemy had been spared by other generals as a favor. Marcellus answered that, given the many wrongs they had inflicted on the Romans, they had in fact suffered nothing beyond what cannot be kept from befalling men taken captive in war by force—and that this capture had come about through their own fault, since they had refused persuasion though invited to accept it many times over.
For they had not been compelled to make war by their tyrants, but rather had chosen tyrants for the sake of making war. When the speeches had been delivered and, as is customary, the senators were withdrawing to vote, Marcellus went out along with the Syracusans, having left the Senate to his colleague, and waited before the doors of the senate-house, changing nothing of his usual bearing, neither from fear on account of the trial nor from anger toward the Syracusans, but awaiting the outcome of the judgment very gently and decorously.
But once the votes had split and he was pronounced victor, the Syracusans threw themselves down before him, weeping and asking that he direct his anger only at those present, sparing the rest of the city, which recalled and remained thankful for all it had received from him before. Marcellus relented and softened toward them, made peace with them, and from then on continued to show kindness to the remaining Syracusans as well.
And the Senate confirmed the liberty he had given back to them, along with their laws and the safekeeping of whatever property remained to them; and in gratitude they voted him further extraordinary honors besides, decreeing that on any occasion when Marcellus, or any descendant of his, should set foot on Sicilian soil, the Syracusans were to don garlands and offer sacrifice to the gods.
From here he turned his attention at last to Hannibal. And whereas nearly every other consul and commander, following the catastrophe at Cannae, relied on the one tactic of steering clear of battle with the man, none daring to form up in line or engage him, Marcellus instead pursued the reverse course,
thinking that if Hannibal were allowed to appear to be wearing Italy down over time unnoticed, that would amount to destroying her, and that Fabius, by always clinging to safety, was not treating the disease of his homeland well, waiting for the war to be extinguished along with the wasting away of her strength—like those physicians who, being timid and cowardly about remedies, take the subsiding of a disease to mean the exhaustion of the patient’s vital force.
First, then, he took the major Samnite cities that had revolted, capturing large quantities of grain stored there, along with money and three thousand of Hannibal's soldiers left to garrison them; then, after Hannibal killed the proconsul Gnaeus Fulvius down in Apulia, along with eleven of his military tribunes, and slaughtered the greater part of his troops, Marcellus wrote to Rome urging the people to keep their courage, adding that he was already on his way to strip Hannibal of that joy.
According to Livy, when this letter was read aloud, it did not ease the people's grief but rather deepened their fear, since the Romans judged the coming danger to exceed what had already befallen them by exactly the margin by which Marcellus surpassed Fulvius. Marcellus, true to his word, marched at once in pursuit of Hannibal into Lucania, and on discovering him encamped on fortified hills near the city of Numistro, pitched his own camp on the plain below.
On the next day he was the first to draw up his army for battle, and when Hannibal came down, they joined battle—a fight that reached no decision, but was fierce and great; for from the third hour they were locked together until, with darkness falling, they at last barely broke apart. At daybreak he led his army forward again and drew it up through the midst of the dead, and challenged Hannibal to fight it out to a decision for the victory.
When Hannibal withdrew, Marcellus, after stripping the enemy dead and burying his own friends, pursued him once more; and though Hannibal set many ambushes, Marcellus fell into none of them, and in all the skirmishes, having the better of it, he was admired all the more. Therefore, since the elections were pressing, the Senate decided it was better to summon the other consul from Sicily than to move Marcellus while he was locked in combat with Hannibal, and ordered the one who came to name Quintus Fabius dictator.
A dictator, in fact, is chosen by neither the popular assembly nor the Senate; instead, a consul or praetor appears before the people and simply declares whichever man he has decided upon, and it is for this reason he bears the title “dictator”—since among the Romans “to name” is dicere. Others hold that he is termed dictator because he does not submit an issue to vote or election, but on his own authority commands and pronounces what has been resolved; for what the Greeks term the edicts of officials, “diatagmata,” the Romans indeed call “edicta.”
When the consul who shared office with Marcellus, having arrived from Sicily, preferred to name someone else as dictator, and, unwilling to be compelled against his own wishes, slipped away by night back to Sicily, the people then named Quintus Fabius dictator instead, and the Senate wrote instructing Marcellus to carry out the nomination. He obeyed, pronounced the name, and thereby ratified what the people had chosen, and for his own part was named proconsul once more for the year to come.
Having agreed with Fabius Maximus that Fabius should attack the Tarentines while he himself, by engaging and dragging Hannibal about, kept him from going to help them, he made his approach near Canusium, and though Hannibal kept changing his encampments and avoiding battle, Marcellus kept appearing on every side, until finally, when Hannibal had settled in one place, he pressed upon him and dislodged him with skirmishes.
When Hannibal set out ready to fight, Marcellus met him, but the engagement broke off with the coming of night; and the next day he was again seen under arms with his army drawn up, so that Hannibal, in great distress, gathered the Carthaginians and begged them to fight that battle as though on behalf of all the battles that had gone before. “For you see,” he said, “that not even after so many victories can we, though victorious, catch our breath or find any rest, unless we drive off this man.”
After this the two sides engaged and battle was joined. It seems that Marcellus, resorting to a badly timed maneuver during the fighting, brought ruin on himself. For when his right wing was in distress he ordered one of the legions to advance forward, and this shift of position, throwing the combatants into confusion, handed the victory to the enemy, twenty-seven hundred Romans having fallen,
Marcellus withdrew to his camp, and gathering the army together, said that he saw many Roman weapons and Roman bodies, but no Roman. When they begged forgiveness, he said he would not grant it to men who had been defeated, but if they should win, he would; and that they would fight again on the morrow, so that the citizens might hear of the victory before they heard of the flight.
Having said this, he ordered the defeated cohorts to be issued barley instead of wheat rations. On account of which, though many were in dangerous and wretched condition from the battle, they say there was no one whom Marcellus's words did not pain more than his wounds.
At daybreak the scarlet tunic was displayed, as was the custom, as the signal that battle would take place, and the disgraced cohorts themselves begged to take the first position, and were granted it, while the tribunes led out the rest of the army and drew it up alongside. Hearing of this, Hannibal said, "By Heracles, what is one to do with a man who knows how to bear neither the worse fortune nor the better? He alone, it seems, neither grants respite when he is winning nor takes it when he is beaten, but we shall always be fighting this man,
for whom, when fortunate, daring is always his excuse for confidence, and when defeated, shame is his excuse for renewed daring." After this the forces came together, and as the men fought on equal terms, Hannibal ordered the elephants to be brought up and led against the Roman line in the first rank. But great crowding and confusion arose at once among the front ranks, and one of the tribunes, named Flavius, snatching up a standard, went to meet the lead elephant and, striking it with the butt-spike of his spear, turned it back.
The elephant, charging into the one behind it, threw that one too, and those following, into disorder. Seeing this, Marcellus ordered the cavalry to ride at full speed toward the point of confusion and to throw the enemy into still greater disarray among themselves; and these men, charging in brilliantly, drove the Carthaginians back all the way to their camp, and the slaughter of the elephants as they were killed and fell brought about the greatest part of the enemy's losses.
For it is said that upward of eight thousand of them died; of the Romans there were three thousand dead, and nearly all the rest wounded. This gave Hannibal the chance to rise quietly in the night and withdraw as far as possible from Marcellus; for he was unable to pursue on account of the great number of his wounded, but retreated unhurriedly into the Campanian countryside, where he passed the summer months at Sinuessa letting his men recover.
When Hannibal had thus broken free of Marcellus, treating his army as though it were now unshackled, he went about setting all Italy ablaze in every direction without fear, and Marcellus fell into ill repute at Rome; and his enemies put forward Publicius Bibulus, a tribune of the plebs known for a harsh and combative style of speaking, to lodge a formal charge against him,
who, repeatedly gathering the people together, urged that the command be handed over to another general, saying, "Since Marcellus, after a little training in war, has turned, as though from the wrestling ground, to warm baths, to nurse himself." On hearing of this, Marcellus left his lieutenants in charge of the camp, and himself returned to Rome to answer the slanders.
And on returning from those slanders he found a lawsuit already prepared against him. When the day had been fixed and the people had assembled at the Flaminian racecourse, Bibulus mounted the platform and made his accusation, while Marcellus made his defense briefly and simply in his own person; but the most highly regarded and foremost of the citizens spoke at great length and boldly on his behalf, urging the assembly not to prove themselves harsher, less fair judges than the very enemy, by convicting Marcellus of cowardice—when he alone, of all their commanders, is the one Hannibal shuns, steadily avoiding combat with him even while giving battle to everyone else.
When these words had been spoken, the accuser's hope of winning the case was so utterly disappointed that not only was Marcellus acquitted of the charges, but he was even elected consul for the fifth time.
On taking up his office, first he suppressed and calmed a great uprising toward revolt in Etruria by going around to the cities; then, wishing to dedicate a temple, built by him from the Sicilian spoils, to Honor and Virtue, and being prevented by the priests, who did not think it right for one temple to contain two gods, he began again to build another adjoining it, not bearing the opposition that had arisen against him easily, but as though taking it for an omen,
for indeed many other signs disturbed him as well: certain temples had been struck by lightning, and mice had gnawed through the gold in the temple of Zeus; it was also said that an ox had uttered a human voice, and that a child had been born with the head of an elephant; and the seers, finding the sacrifices and expiatory rites unfavorable, kept him detained at Rome, chafing and burning—for no man was ever so enamored of anything as this man was of being tried in battle against Hannibal.
This was his dream by night, and by day, with his friends and fellow magistrates, it was his one resolve and his one prayer to the gods: to catch Hannibal drawn up for battle. And it seems to me nothing would have pleased him more than to see both armies penned within one common wall and left to settle it there; and had he not already been full of great renown, and given ample proof beyond any other general of being a man of weight and good sense, I would say that a youthful and overly ambitious passion had fallen upon him, unbefitting so old a man—for he was past sixty years of age when he held his fifth consulship.
Nevertheless, once the sacrifices and purification rites demanded by the seers were carried out, he took the field alongside his fellow consul, and by encamping for a long time between the cities of Bantia and Venusia, he kept provoking Hannibal. Hannibal did not come down to battle, but on learning that an army was being sent by them against the Epizephyrian Locrians, he set an ambush near the hill by Petelia and killed twenty-five hundred of them,
and this stirred Marcellus's temper toward battle, and he moved his forces closer and advanced. Between the two camps there was a hill, reasonably well fortified and covered with all kinds of woodland; it also had lookout points sloping to either side, and springs of running water could be seen trickling down from it. The Romans wondered, therefore, at Hannibal, that having been the first to seize so favorable a spot, he had not held onto it, but had left it to the enemy.
But to him the place seemed good for encamping, but far better for setting an ambush; and wishing to make use of it rather for this purpose, he filled the woodland and the hollows with many javelin-men and spearmen, convinced that the very attractiveness of the ground would draw the Romans on to it.
Nor was his expectation misplaced: at once a lively dispute broke out among the Romans in camp over whether they must seize that spot, and they argued back and forth about every advantage it would give them against the enemy, chiefly if they pitched camp there, or, failing that, if they at least fortified the hill. It seemed good to Marcellus, therefore, to ride out with a few horsemen and reconnoiter it. Taking the seer with him, he offered sacrifice; and when the first victim fell, the seer showed him the liver, which had no head.
When he sacrificed a second time, the head appeared of extraordinary size, and everything else showed remarkably bright and favorable, and the earlier fear seemed to have found its resolution. But the seers said they feared and were disturbed by this all the more: for when, after the most inauspicious and gloomy of omens, the brightest of all had followed, the very strangeness of the change was cause for suspicion. But indeed "what is fated, neither fire nor a wall of iron shall hold back," as Pindar says; he set out, taking with him his fellow consul Crispinus, and his own son, who held the rank of tribune, and all his cavalry, two hundred and twenty in number,
of whom not one was a Roman, but the rest were Etruscans, except for forty Fregellans, who had always given proof of valor and loyalty to Marcellus. The hill being wooded and thickly overgrown, a man sitting up above kept watch over the enemy, himself unseen, but able to look down on the Roman camp.
And when this man reported what was happening to those lying in ambush, they let Marcellus ride on until he had come close, and then suddenly rose up, and pouring around him from every side, hurled javelins, struck, pursued those who fled, and grappled with those who stood their ground; these last were the forty Fregellans.
The Etruscans having at once, from the very start, fled in terror, the Fregellans rallied together and defended the consuls, until Crispinus, struck by two javelins, turned his horse in flight, and someone drove a broad-bladed spear—the kind they call a lancea—through Marcellus's side. And thus the few Fregellans who survived, leaving him where he had altogether fallen, snatched up his wounded son and fled to the camp.
The dead were not much more than forty in number, but among the prisoners were five of the lictors and eighteen of the horsemen; and Crispinus too died of his wounds, having survived only a few days. And this disaster befell the Romans as one that had not happened before: that both consuls should die from a single engagement.
As for Hannibal, he had little regard for the rest, but on learning that Marcellus had fallen he himself ran out to the spot, and standing over the corpse, and studying for a long time the strength and appearance of the body, uttered no arrogant word, nor did he show any joy in his expression, as one who had killed a formidable and burdensome enemy would,
but rather, marveling at the unexpectedness of his end, he removed the ring from his finger, and having adorned the body with fitting ornament and wrapped it honorably, burned it, and gathering the remains into a silver urn, and set a wreath of gold on it, dispatched it to Marcellus's son. But a group of Numidians, encountering the men transporting it, made a grab for the urn, and when the bearers pushed back, the bones were scattered in the ensuing scuffle.
On being informed of this, Hannibal remarked to those around him, "So nothing, it seems, can happen contrary to the will of god," and imposed punishment on the Numidians, but no longer troubled himself with recovering or gathering the remains, since it seemed that by the will of some god both his end and the strangeness of his lack of burial had come upon Marcellus in this way,
This, then, is what Cornelius Nepos and Valerius Maximus have recorded; but Livy and Caesar Augustus report instead that the remains reached his son and were given a splendid burial. Besides the memorials in Rome, Marcellus was also honored elsewhere: a gymnasium in Catana, Sicily, along with statues and paintings taken from Syracuse, set up both among the Cabiri-gods at Samothrace and in the temple of Athena at Lindos,
there, on his statue, this epigram was inscribed, as Posidonius says: "This is he, stranger, the great star of Rome his fatherland, Marcellus, sprung from the famous house of Claudius, who seven times held the consular office in war, who poured out much slaughter upon his adversaries." For the proconsular command, which he held twice, the composer of the epigram counted along with the five consulships.
His illustrious family line extended down to Marcellus, the nephew of Caesar, who was the son of Octavia, sister of Caesar, by Gaius Marcellus, and who, while serving as aedile of the Romans, died a bridegroom, having lived with Caesar's daughter but a short time. To honor and remember him, his mother Octavia set up the library that bore his name, while Caesar gave his name to a theater.