s, so long
victorious, were stricken with something like panic. But the soldiers
were eager to fight, and Xanthippus bade the wavering generals not to
lose so precious an opportunity. They yielded, and bade him to draw up
the army on his own plan.

In the battle that ensued the victory was due to the cavalry and
elephants. The cavalry drove that of Italy from the field, and attacked
the Roman rear. The elephants broke through the Roman lines in front,
furiously trampling the bravest underfoot. Those who penetrated the line
of the elephants were cut to pieces by the Carthaginian infantry. Of the
whole Roman army, two thousand of the left wing alone escaped; Regulus,
with five hundred others, fled, but was pursued and taken prisoner; the
remainder of the army was destroyed to a man. The defeat was total. Rome
retained but a single African port, which was soon given up. Xanthippus,
crowned with glory and richly rewarded, returned to Greece to enjoy the
fame he had won.

For five years Regulus remained a prisoner in Carthage, while the war
went on in Sicily. Here, in the year 250 B.C., the Romans gained an
important victory at Panormus (now Palermo), and Carthage, weary of the
struggle, sent to Rome to ask for terms of peace. With the ambassadors
came Regulus, who had promised to return to Carthage if the negotiations
should fail, and whom the Carthaginians naturally expected to use his
utmost influence in favor of peace.

They did not know their man. Regulus proved himself one of those
indomitable patriots of whom there are few examples in the ages. On
reaching the walls of Rome he refused at first to enter, saying that he
was no longer a citizen, and had lost his rights in that city. When the
ambassadors of Carthage had offered their proposal to the senate,
Regulus, who had remained silent, was ordered by the senate to give his
opinion of the proposed treaty. Thus commanded, he astonished all who
heard by strongly advising the senate not to make the treaty. He might
die for his words, he might perish in torture, but the good of his
country was dearer to him than his own life, and he would not counsel a
treaty that might prove of advantage to the enemy. He even spoke against
an exchange of prisoners, saying that he had not long to live, having,
he believed, been given a secret poison by his captors, and would not
make a fair exchange for a hale and hearty Carthaginian general.

Such an instance of self-abnegation has r