To save content items to your account,
please confirm that you agree to abide by our usage policies.
If this is the first time you use this feature, you will be asked to authorise Cambridge Core to connect with your account.
Find out more about saving content to .
To save content items to your Kindle, first ensure no-reply@cambridge.org
is added to your Approved Personal Document E-mail List under your Personal Document Settings
on the Manage Your Content and Devices page of your Amazon account. Then enter the ‘name’ part
of your Kindle email address below.
Find out more about saving to your Kindle.
Note you can select to save to either the @free.kindle.com or @kindle.com variations.
‘@free.kindle.com’ emails are free but can only be saved to your device when it is connected to wi-fi.
‘@kindle.com’ emails can be delivered even when you are not connected to wi-fi, but note that service fees apply.
Scipio took the war to Africa, rather than destroying Hannibal in Italy as his enemies wanted. His temporary base was Sicily; at Syracuse, he incurred criticism by adopting Greek clothes and lifestyle. Leaving Hannibal behind was a gamble, compounded by the mere forty warships which accompanied him. Livy reports his ceremonial departure: liquid sacrifices poured from shipboard; the gods rewarded him with a favourable omen. In Africa, he won a dishonourable success, taking advantage of a truce. But it needed victory at Great Plains (203) before Carthage recalled Hannibal. Scipio’s battle tactics are analysed. Livy reports Hannibal’s departure contrariwise from Scipio’s, including bad omen on arrival. The two parleyed through interpreters. At Zama, Scipio defeated Hannibal comprehensively; tactics are analysed, including the decisive role of the Numidian Masinissa’s cavalry, Rome’s weakest arm. Hannibal persuaded his countrymen to accept the heavy peace terms, including annual indemnity, and territorial gains for Masinissa.
Scipio was neither active nor successful as a politician, although elected to prestigious roles after Zama. He celebrated his triumph over Hannibal (201). This peculiarly Roman religious ritual is explained and its conventions listed: there had been few in the war, so this was a great occasion. Scipio was not opposed to the war against Philip which Flamininus won at Cynoscephalae (197), nor did they differ over ‘philhellenism’. In 199, Scipio was elected (1) censor and (2) leading senator, princeps senatus. (2) was a one-man post for life; its main privilege was to speak first. As for (1), two censors held office for a limited period; eligibility and duties are explained. Close study of Livy suggests Scipio spoke rarely in the senate during the 190s; his censorship was certainly uneventful and non-controversial. He was consul again in 194. He visited the east (193); his conversation with Hannibal at Ephesus is defended.
Conclusions are summarized and final reflections added. Neither Hannibal nor Scipio received cult in the strong sense. The Roman Flamininus did – but only from Greek communities. Herodotus on a Hamilcar’s death might show cult was thinkable for defeated Carthaginian commanders – but the story is dubious. Neither Hannibal nor Scipio founded eponymous cities or aimed at monarchical positions. Both, as overseas commanders, took policy initiatives on the spot, including appointment of key subordinates; but Publius and Lucius Scipio in the east after 190 acted on general understanding of senatorial wishes. Neither was conspicuously successful as politician. Hannibal did at least bravely and single-handedly carry unpopular reforms to curb oligarchic corruption, but it is uncertain how long they lasted after his hasty exit from Carthage. Ancient poets and modern biographers have always found Hannibal, the glamorous failure and precursor of Cleopatra, a more popular and congenial subject than the more conventional Scipio.
This chapter begins with the families of Hannibal and Scipio. Hannibal’s mother is unknown; the name of Scipio’s abnormally pious mother, Pomponia, is preserved only in a Latin epic poem by Silius Italicus (first century CE). The older male relatives of both Hannibal and Scipio were distinguished soldiers. Hannibal married an Iberian woman; Scipio, a member of the Cornelian gens (group of families), married the daughter of another Roman aristocrat, from the Aemilian gens. Carthaginian and Roman naming habits are explained. Hannibal’s surname Barca is a family name, not an ‘ethnic’ – indicator of local origin – from the Greek city Barce. (A contrary argument is rejected in Appendix 2.1.) The childhood and youth of Hannibal and Scipio are discussed, including Hannibal’s famous oath in Iberia never to be friendly to the Romans, the events of the 230s and 220s are narrated, and pre−220 Roman and Carthaginian history and society are analysed.
Scipio had served at Ticinus, where he saved the life of his wounded father Publius the consul; at Cannae as military tribune, he rallied survivors. He was aedile (213). In 218, Publius had sent his brother Gnaeus to Iberia; he himself returned to northern Italy to fight Hannibal. In Iberia, Gnaeus scored successes against the Carthaginian Hanno. Publius rejoined him in 217. They fought and negotiated successfully until killed in separate engagements (211). In 210, young Scipio was appointed with imperium to replace them and in 209 captured the important coastal city of New Carthage, allegedly with Neptune’s help. At Baecula (208, site recently identified), he defeated Hannibal’s brother Hasdrubal (who however escaped to Italy) and another Hasdrubal (Ilipa, 206). On return, he was denied a triumph but elected consul for 205. The tradition, only in Appian, that he founded an Iberian city Italica is a myth from Hadrian’s time.
Frank H. Knight is rightly regarded as having identified the distinction between risk and uncertainty and their respective roles in the entrepreneurial process in his 1921 Risk, Uncertainty, and Profit. Less well appreciated is his recognition of the work of Fred Manville Taylor in this work, even though throughout Knight made several laudatory references to Taylor’s Principles. This article will examine through the various editions of Taylor’s textbook parallels between Taylor and Knight in their respective understandings of the risk-uncertainty distinction and the emphasis each placed on the role of the entrepreneur.
Of the two parallel lives, it is Hannibal who used an elected position to carry through political and economic reforms unwelcome to the ruling oligarchy, whereas Scipio was quiet and accepting of the status quo. A story that Hannibal was prosecuted after Zama is not believable. He urged acceptance of the peace terms after Zama, manhandling an opposing speaker; he apologized for this, pleading long absence from civil life. As elected ‘praetor’ (sufete), he antagonized powerful citizens. His summons of a ‘quaestor’ (financial official) was refused. Scipio, soon after, also had trouble with a recalcitrant quaestor. Hannibal’s main political reform was to end life tenure of the ‘judges’. Economically, perhaps using skills developed when managing the logistics of his Italian campaign, he calculated Carthage’s revenues and ended embezzlement. The unpopularity with the ruling class so generated, and Roman diplomatic pressure, caused him to flee permanently. Carthage’s second-century economy is evaluated.
Hannibal could not go to Ptolemaic Egypt or Antigonid Macedon. That left the Seleucids. But their preference for Greco-Macedonian employees meant Hannibal would never be fully accepted: Antiochus listened to Hannibal’s advice without taking it wholeheartedly. Hannibal’s Tyrian agent Ariston, sent to Carthage in Antiochus’ interest, failed. A Roman mission to Antiochus tried to turn him against Hannibal, who reassured Antiochus by recalling his childhood oath. Rome’s decision for war is explained: cooperation in Greece between Antiochus and the Aetolians, disaffected Roman allies. Hannibal’s role, and court intrigues against him, are traced. Antiochus lost on land at Thermopylae (Greece); his fleet under Hannibal was no match for Rome’s experienced allies the Rhodians. The Romans won at Magnesia, commanded by Lucius Scipio with Publius as adviser. Publius as Salian priest was delayed, then missed the battle through illness. He too gave Antiochus (cryptic) advice. Hannibal and Scipio are compared as advisers.
‘Hannibal’s legacy’ is an influential 1965 book by a controversial historian, Arnold Toynbee. It set the agenda for the next half-century and more of scholarship by arguing that the ‘legacy’ consisted of lasting damage to the agricultural economy of Italy and the political stability of Rome. Its contemporary reception is presented and analysed. The (disputed) extent of Italy’s devastation, as divinely promised to Hannibal in an alleged dream while still in Iberia, is assessed, and manpower difficulties discussed. Hannibal’s legacy at defeated Carthage was more obviously damaging, though the city did not fall until 146. Hannibal’s literary legacy in Latin and Greek literature was systematically ambiguous: fear, horror, fascination, and even admiration. Scipio’s literary afterlife and perceived qualities are explored initially through the medium of the ‘Dream of Scipio’, a fictional work by Cicero in imitation of Plato: Scipio Africanus appears to his adoptive grandson Aemilianus in his sleep.
Carl Snyder was one of the most prominent US monetary economists of the 1920s and 1930s. His pioneering work on constructing the empirical counterparts of the terms in the equation of exchange led him to formulate a 4% monetary growth rule. Snyder is especially apposite because he was on the staff of the New York Federal Reserve Bank. Why, despite his pioneering empirical work and his position as an insider, did Snyder fail to effectively challenge the dominant real bills views of the Federal Reserve (Fed)? A short answer is that he did not possess a convincing version of the quantity theory that attributed the Great Depression to a contraction in the money stock produced by the Fed, as opposed to the dominant real bills view attributing it to the collapse of speculative excess.
Livy not Polybius is the main source for Roman religion; Carthaginian is less easily grasped. Literary traditions represented Hannibal as an impious perjuror, whereas Scipio enjoyed divine help (Neptune) and privileged access (Jupiter). Neither picture is true. Both made youthful vows, Hannibal never to befriend Rome, Scipio (after Cannae) to continue the fight. Neither was regularly accompanied by seers on campaign; Hannibal was his own diviner and personally executed one violent animal sacrifice. He buried defeated enemy commanders respectfully, unlike Nero after Metaurus. Scipio, unlike Hannibal, took impious advantage of a truce. Hannibal was a priest only in the sense that ancient generals conducted campaign rituals. Scipio had been a Salian priest of Mars for many years (special dress, ceremonies, obligations). There was a Hannibalic legend (advice or warnings in dreams from Jupiter and Juno) as well as the famous Scipionic legend (supernatural snake-birth and Neptune’s help at New Carthage).
This chapter is about Greek culture, but there is a political aspect too: Hannibal promised freedom to Italian Greeks, but not all welcomed him, nor were his promises kept. Scipio at Syracuse enjoyed Greek lifestyle, including attending the gymnasium, an institution suspect among Romans for perceived immorality; but it had a paramilitary function, especially in Sicily. Scipio’s promotion of south Italian Greeks is illustrated by the career of Sextus Digitius from Paestum. Hannibal’s command of Greek is discussed (also in Appendix 13.1, on Greek ‘letters’, taught him by Spartan Sosylus). After enduring an Athenian philosopher lecturing at Ephesus on generalship he expressed impatience in frank if inelegant Greek. Religious and cultural hellenism at Rome and Carthage is explored, with special attention to Livius Andronicus’ invention of a Latin literature, and the Carthaginian philosopher Hasdrubal, self-reinvented as ‘Clitomachus’. Barcid Iberian city foundations are assessed, Hannibal’s in Asia Minor postponed to Chapter 17.
Ludwig von Mises’s methodological apriorism is often attributed to the broader Austrian School of economics. However, there is considerable controversy concerning the meaning of Mises’s justification of his apriorism. There are inconsistencies within and across Mises’s methodological writings that engender confusion in the secondary literature. This confusion is aggravated by the fact that his apriorism cannot be interpreted as an artifact of his historical milieu. The two prevailing families of interpretation both treat Mises’s apriorism as anachronistic, albeit in divergent senses. I conclude that the primary and secondary literatures on Mises’s apriorism indicate its inconsistency and incoherence. We have no idea what justification Mises intended when he asserted the a priori nature of the fundamental propositions of economics. If this is right, then, whatever method(s) they follow, Austrian economists cannot (deliberately) follow Mises’s apriorism, because no one knows well enough how Mises meant to justify it to follow it purposefully.
The range of digital sources available to historians has expanded at an enormous rate over the last fifty years; this has enabled all kinds of innovative scholarship to flourish. However, this process has also shaped recent historical work in ways that have not been fully discussed or documented. This article considers how we might reconcile the digitisation of archival sources with their materiality, with a particular focus on the probate records of the Prerogative Court of Canterbury (PCC). The article first considers the variety of digital sources available to historians of the United Kingdom, highlighting the particular influence of genealogical companies in shaping what material is available, how it has been digitised and how those sources are accessed. Secondly, we examine the PCC wills’ digitisation, what was gained and what was lost in that process, notably important material aspects of the wills. This article does not seek to champion archival research in opposition to digitally based scholarship; instead, we remind historians of the many ways in which the creation of sources shape their potential use, and call on historians to push for improvements in the United Kingdom’s digital infrastructure to avoid these problems in future.