This fearful command aroused in the Phoenicians all the—­shall we say magnanimous or frenzied?—­enthusiasm, which was displayed previously by the Tyrians against Alexander, and subsequently by the Jews against Vespasian.  Unparalleled as was the patience with which this nation could endure bondage and oppression, as unparalleled was now the furious rising of that mercantile and seafaring population, when the things at stake were not the state and freedom, but the beloved soil of their ancestral city and their venerated and dear home beside the sea.  Hope and deliverance were out of the question; political discretion enjoined even now an unconditional submission.  But the voice of the few who counselled the acceptance of what was inevitable was, like the call of the pilot during a hurricane, drowned amidst the furious yells of the multitude; which, in its frantic rage, laid hands on the magistrates of the city who had counselled the surrender of the hostages and arms, made such of the innocent bearers of the news as had ventured at all to return home expiate their terrible tidings, and tore in pieces the Italians who chanced to be sojourning in the city by way of avenging beforehand, at least on them, the destruction of its native home.  No resolution was passed to defend themselves; unarmed as they were, this was a matter of course.  The gates were closed; stones were carried to the battlements of the walls that had been stripped of the catapults; the chief command was entrusted to Hasdrubal, the grandson of Massinissa; the slaves in a body were declared free.  The army of refugees under the fugitive Hasdrubal—­which was in possession of the whole Carthaginian territory with the exception of the towns on the east coast occupied by the Romans, viz.  Hadrumetum, Little Leptis, Thapsus and Achulla, and the city of Utica, and offered an invaluable support for the defence—­was entreated not to refuse its aid to the commonwealth in this dire emergency.  At the same time, concealing in true Phoenician style the most unbounded resentment under the cloak of humility, they attempted to deceive the enemy.  A message was sent to the consuls to request a thirty days’ armistice for the despatch of an embassy to Rome.  The Carthaginians were well aware that the generals neither would nor could grant this request, which had been refused once already; but the consuls were confirmed by it in the natural supposition that after the first outbreak of despair the utterly defenceless city would submit, and accordingly postponed the attack.  The precious interval was employed in preparing catapults and armour; day and night all, without distinction of age or sex, were occupied in constructing machines and forging arms; the public buildings were torn down to procure timber and metal; women cut off their hair to furnish the strings indispensable for the catapults; in an incredibly short time the walls and the men were once more armed.  That all this could be done without