The crowd meanwhile
ran to and fro; armed bands passed; captains shouted orders, while the
shock of the rams beating against the rampart was constantly heard.
The temperature became so heavy that the bodies swelled and would no
longer fit into the coffins. They were burned in the centre of the
courts. But the fires, being too much confined, kindled the neighbouring
walls, and long flames suddenly burst from the houses like blood
spurting from an artery. Thus Moloch was in possession of Carthage; he
clasped the ramparts, he rolled through the streets, he devoured the
very corpses.
Men wearing cloaks made of collected rags in token of despair, stationed
themselves at the corners of the cross-ways. They declaimed against the
Ancients and against Hamilcar, predicted complete ruin to the people,
and invited them to universal destruction and license. The most
dangerous were the henbane-drinkers; in their crisis they believed
themselves wild beasts, and leaped upon the passers-by to rend them.
Mobs formed around them, and the defence of Carthage was forgotten. The
Suffet devised the payment of others to support his policy.
In order to retain the genius of the gods within the town their images
had been covered with chains. Black veils were placed upon the Pataec
gods, and hair-cloths around the altars; and attempts were made to
excite the pride and jealousy of the Baals by singing in their ears:
"Thou art about to suffer thyself to be vanquished! Are the others
perchance more strong? Show thyself! aid us! that the peoples may not
say: 'Where are now their gods?'"
The colleges of the pontiffs were agitated by unceasing anxiety.
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