Part 29

Caesar had now made himself master of Pompey's forces in Spain, and though it was not without a battle, he dismissed the officers, and incorporated the troops with his own. After this, he passed the Alps again, and marched through Italy to Brundusium, where he arrived at the time of the winter solstice. There he crossed the sea, and landed at Oricum; from whence he dispatched Vibullius, one of Pompey's friends, whom he had brought prisoner thither, with proposals of a conference between him and Pompey, in which they should agree to disband their armies within three days, renew their friendship, confirm it with solemn oath, and then both return to Italy. Pompey took this overture for another snare, and therefore drew down in haste to the sea, and secured all the forts and places of strength for land forces, as well as all the ports and other commodious stations for shipping; so that there was not a wind that blew, which did not bring him either provisions, or troops, or money. On the other hand, Caesar was reduced to such straits, both by sea and land, that he was under the necessity of seeking a battle. Accordingly, he attacked Pompey's intrenchments, and bade him defiance daily. In most of these attacks and skirmishes he had the advantage; but one day was in danger of losing his whole army. Pompey fought with so much valor, that he put Caesar's whole detachment to flight, after having killed two thousand men upon the spot; but was either unable or afraid to pursue his blow, and enter their camp with them. Caesar said to his friends on this occasion, "This day the victory had been the enemy's had their general known how to conquer."

Pompey's troops, elated with this success, were in great haste to come to a decisive battle. Nay, Pompey himself seemed to give in to their opinions by writing to the kings, the generals, and cities, in his interest, in the style of a conqueror. Yet all this while he dreaded the issue of a general action, believing it much better, by length of time, by famine and fatigue, to tire out men who had been ever invincible in arms, and long accustomed to conquer when they fought together. Besides, he knew the infirmities of age had made them unfit for the other operations of war, for long marches and countermarches, for digging trenches and building forts, and that, therefore, they wished for nothing so much as a battle. Pompey, with all these arguments, found it no easy matter to keep his army quiet.

After this last engagement, Caesar was in such want of provisions, that he was forced to decamp, and he took his way through Athamania into Thessaly. This added so much to the high opinion Pompey's soldiers had of themselves, that it was impossible to keep them within bounds. They cried out with one voice, "Caesar is fled." Some called upon the general to pursue; some to pass over into Italy. Others sent their friends and servants to Rome, to engage homes near the forum, for the convenience of soliciting the great offices of state. And not a few went of their own accord to Cornelia, who had been privately lodged in Lesbos, to congratulate her upon the conclusion of the war.

While he thus softly followed the enemy's steps, a complaint was raised against him, and urged with much clamor, that he was not exercising his generalship upon Caesar, but upon the Senate and the whole commonwealth, in order that he might forever keep the command in his hands, and have those for his guards and servants who had a right to govern the world. Domitius Aenobarbus, to increase the odium, always called him Agamemnon, or king of kings. Favonius piqued him no less with a jest, than others by their unseasonable severity; he went about crying, "My friends, we shall eat no figs in Tusculum this year."

These and many other like sallies of ridicule had such an effect upon Pompey, who was ambitious of being spoken well of by the world, and had too much deference for the opinions of his friends, that he gave up his own better judgment, to follow them in the career of their false hopes and prospects. A thing which would have been unpardonable in the pilot or master of a ship, much more in the commander-in-chief of so many nations and such numerous armies. He had often commended the physician who gives no indulgence to the whimsical longings of his patients, and yet he humored the sickly cravings of his army, and was afraid to give them pain, though necessary for the preservation of their life and being. For who can say that army was in a sound and healthy state, when some of the officers went about the camp canvassing for the offices of consul and praetor; and others, namely, Spinther, Domitius, and Scipio, were engaged in quarrels and cabals about Caesar's high-priesthood, as if their adversary had been only a Tigranes, a king of Armenia, or a prince of the Nabathaeans; and not that Caesar and that army who had stormed one thousand cities, subdued above three hundred nations, gained numberless battles of the Germans and Gauls, taken one million prisoners, and killed as many fairly in the field. Notwithstanding all this, they continued loud and tumultuous in their demands of a battle; and when they came to the plains of Pharsalia, forced Pompey to call a council of war. Lebienus, who had the command of the cavalry, rose up first, and took an oath, that he would not return from the battle, till he had put the enemy to flight. All the other officers swore the same.

The night following, Pompey had this dream. He thought he entered his own theatre, and was received with loud plaudits; after which, he adorned the temple of Venus the Victorious with many spoils. This vision, on one side, encouraged him, and on the other alarmed him. He was afraid that Caesar, who was a descendant of Venus, would be aggrandized at his expense. Besides, a panic (A Panic was so called, from the terror which the god Pan is said to have struck the enemies of Greece with, at the battle of Marathon.) fear ran through the camp, the noise of which awakened him. And about the morning watch, over Caesar's camp, where everything was perfectly quiet, there suddenly appeared a great light, from which a stream of fire issued in the form of a torch, and fell upon that of Pompey. Caesar himself says he saw it as he was going his rounds.

Caesar was preparing, at break of day, to march to Scotusa; his soldiers were striking their tents, and the servants and beasts of burden were already in motion, when his scouts brought intelligence that they had seen arms handed about in the enemy's camp, and perceived a noise and bustle, which indicated an approaching battle. After these, others came and assured him that the first ranks were drawn up.

Upon this Caesar said: "The long-wished day is come, on which we shall fight with men, and not with want and famine." Then he immediately ordered the red mantle to be put up before his pavilion, which, among the Romans, is the signal of a battle. The soldiers no sooner beheld it, than they left their tents as they were, and ran to arms with loud shouts, and every expression of joy. And when the officers began to put them in order of battle, each man fell into his proper rank as quietly, and with as much skill and ease, as a chorus in a tragedy.

Pompey placed himself in his right wing over against Antony, and his father-in-law, Scipio, in the centre, opposite Domitius Calvinus. His left wing was commanded by Lucius Domitius, and supported by the cavalry; for they were almost all ranged on that side, in order to break in upon Caesar, and cut off the tenth legion, which was accounted the bravest in his army, and in which he used to fight in person. Caesar, seeing the enemy's left wing so well guarded with horse, and fearing the excellence of their armor, sent for a detachment of six cohorts from the body of the reserve, and placed them behind the tenth legion, with orders not to stir before the attack, lest they should be discovered by the enemy; but when the enemy's cavalry had charged, to make up through the foremost ranks, and then not to discharge their javelins at a distance, as brave men generally do in their eagerness to come to sword in hand, but to reserve them till they came to close fighting, and to push them forward into the eyes and faces of the enemy. "For those fair young dancers," said he, "will never stand the steel aimed at their eyes, but will fly to save their handsome faces."

While Caesar was thus employed, Pompey took a view on horseback of the order of both armies; and finding that they enemy kept their ranks with the utmost exactness, and quietly waited for the signal of battle, while his own men, for want of experience, were fluctuating and unsteady, he was afraid they would be broken up on the first onset. He therefore commanded the vanguard to stand firm in their ranks, and in that close order to receive the enemy's charge. Caesar condemned this measure, as not only tending to lessen the vigor of the blows, which is always greatest in the assailants, but also to damp the fire and spirit of the men; whereas those who advance with impetuosity, and animate each other with shouts, are filled with an enthusiastic valor and superior ardor.

Caesar's army consisted of twenty-two thousand men, and Pompey's was something more than twice that number. When the signal was given on both sides, and the trumpets sounded a charge, each common man attended only to his own concern. But some of the principal Romans and Greeks, who only stood and looked on, when the dreadful moment of action approached, could not help considering to what the avarice and ambition of two men had brought the Roman Empire. The same arms on both sides, the troops marshalled in the same manner, the same standards; in short, the strength and flower of one and the same city turned upon itself! What could be a stronger proof of the blindness and infatuation of human nature, when carried away by its passions? Had they been willing to enjoy the fruits of their labors in peace and tranquillity, the greatest and best part of the world was their own. Or, if they must have indulged their thirst of victories and triumphs, the Parthians and Germans were yet to be subdued. Scythia and India yet remained; together with a very plausible color for their lust of new acquisitions, the pretence of civilizing barbarians. And what Scythian horse, what Parthian arrows, what Indian treasures, could have resisted seventy thousand Romans, led on by Pompey and Caesar, with whose names those nations had long been acquainted! Into such a variety of wild and savage countries had these two generals carried their victorious arms! Whereas now they stood threatening each other with destruction; not sparing even their own glory, though to it they sacrificed their country, but prepared, one of them, to lose the reputation of being invincible, which hitherto they had both maintained. So that the alliance which they had contracted by Pompey's marriage to Julia, was from the first only an artful expedient; and her charms were to form a self-interested compact, instead of being the pledge of a sincere friendship.

The plain of Pharsalia was now covered with men, and horses and arms; and the signal of battle being given on both sides, the first on Caesar's side who advanced to the charge was Caius Crastinus, who commanded a corps of one hundred and twenty men, and was determined to make good his promise to his general. He was the first man Caesar saw when he went out of the trenches in the morning; and upon Caesar's asking him what he thought of the battle, he stretched out his hand, and answered in a cheerful tone, "You will gain a glorious victory, and I shall have your praise this day, either alive or dead." In pursuance of this promise, he advanced the foremost, and many following to support him, he charged into the midst of the enemy. They soon took to their swords, and numbers were slain; but as Crastinus was making his way forward, and cutting down all before him, one of Pompey's men stood to receive him, and pushed his sword in at his mouth with such force, that it went through the nape of his neck. Crastinus thus killed, the fight was maintained with equal advantage on both sides.

Pompey did not immediately lead on his right wing, but often directed his eyes to the left, and lost time in waiting to see what execution his cavalry would do there. Meanwhile they had extended their squadrons to surround Caesar, and prepared to drive the few horse he had placed in front, back upon the foot. At that instant Caesar gave the signal; upon which his cavalry retreated a little; and the six cohorts, which consisted of 3000 men, and had been placed behind the tenth legion, advanced to surround Pompey's cavalry; and coming close up to them, raised the points of their javelins, as they had been taught, and aimed them at the face. Their adversaries, who were not experienced in any kind of fighting, and had not the least previous idea of this, could not parry or endure the blows upon their faces, but turned their backs, or covered their eyes with their hands, and soon fled with great dishonor. Caesar's men took no care to pursue them, but turned their force upon the enemy's infantry, particularly upon that wing, which, now stripped of its horse, lay open to the attack on all sides. The six cohorts, therefore, took them in flank, while the tenth legion charged them in front; and they, who had hoped to surround the enemy, and now, instead of that, saw themselves surrounded, made but a short resistance, and then took to a precipitate flight.

By the great dust that was raised, Pompey conjectured the fate of his cavalry; and it is hard to say what passed in his mind at that moment. He appeared like a man moonstruck and distracted; and without considering that he was Pompey the Great, or speaking to any one, he quitted the ranks, and retired step by step toward his camp--a scene which cannot be better painted than in these verses of Homer: (In the eleventh book of the Iliad, where he is speaking of the flight of Ajax before Hector.)

But partial Jove, espousing Hector's part, Shot heaven-bred horror through the Grecian's heart; Confused, unnerv'd in Hector's presence grown, Amazed he stood with terrors not his own. O'er his broad back his moony shield he threw, And, glaring round, by tardy steps withdrew.

In this condition he entered his tent, where he sat down, and uttered not a word, till at last, upon finding that some of the enemy entered the camp with the fugitives, he said, "What! Into my camp, too!" After this short exclamation, he rose up, and dressing himself in a manner suitable to his fortune, privately withdrew. All the other legions fled; and a great slaughter was made in the camp, of the servants and others who had the care of the tents. But Asinius Pollio, who then fought on Caesar's side, assures us, that of the regular troops there were not above six thousand men killed. (Caesar says, that in all there were fifteen thousand killed, and twenty-four thousand taken prisoners.)

Upon the taking of the camp, there was a spectacle which showed, in strong colors, the vanity and folly of Pompey's troops. All the tents were crowned with myrtle; the beds were strewn with flowers; the tables covered with cups, and bowls of wine set out. In short, everything had the appearance of preparations for feasts and sacrifices, rather than for men going out to battle. To such a degree had their vain hopes corrupted them, and with such a senseless confidence they took to the field!

When Pompey had got at a little distance from the camp, he quitted his horse. He had very few people about him; and, as he saw he was not pursued, he went softly on, wrapped up in such thoughts as we may suppose a man to have, who had been used for thirty-four years to conquer and carry all before him, and now in his old age first came to know what it was to be defeated and to fly. We may easily conjecture what his thoughts must be, when in one short hour he had lost the glory and the power which had been growing up amidst so many wars and conflicts; and he who was lately guarded with such armies of horse and foot, and such great and powerful fleets, was reduced to so mean and contemptible an equipage, that his enemies, who were in search of him, could not know him.

He passed by Larissa, and came to Tempe, where, burning with thirst, he threw himself upon his face, and drank out of the river; after which, he passed through the valley, and went down to the sea-coast. There he spent the remainder of the night in a poor fisherman's cabin. Next morning, about break of day, he went on board a small river-boat, taking with him such of his company as were freemen. The slaves he dismissed, bidding them go to Caesar, and fear nothing.

As he was coasting along, he saw a whip of burden just ready to sail; the master of which was Peticius, a Roman citizen, who, though not acquainted with Pompey, knew him by sight. Therefore, without waiting for any further application, he took him up, and such of his companions as he thought proper, and then hoisted sail. The persons Pompey took with him, were the two Lentuli and Favonius; and a little after, they saw king Deiotarus beckoning to them with great earnestness from the shore, and took him up likewise. The master of the ship provided them with the best supper he could, and when it was almost ready, Pompey, for want of a servant, was going to wash himself, but Favonius, seeing it, stepped up, and both washed and anointed him. All the time he was on board, he continued to wait upon him in all the offices of a servant, even to the washing of his feet and providing his supper; insomuch, that one who saw the unaffected simplicity and sincere attachment with which Favonius performed these offices, cried out--

The generous mind adds dignity To every act, and nothing misbecomes it.

Pompey, in the course of his voyage, sailed by Amphipolis, and from thence steered for Mitylene, to take up Cornelia and his son. As soon as he reached the island, he sent a messenger to the town with news far different from what Cornelia expected. For, by the flattering accounts which many officious persons had given her, she understood that the dispute was decided at Dyrrhachium, and that nothing but the pursuit of Caesar remained to be attended to. The messenger, finding her possessed with such hopes, had not power to make the usual salutations; but expressing the greatness of Pompey's misfortunes by his tears rather than words, only told her she must make haste if she had a mind to see Pompey with one ship only, and that not his own.

At this news Cornelia threw herself upon the ground, where she lay a long time insensible and speechless. At last, coming to herself, she perceived there was no time to be lost in tears and lamentations, and therefore hastened through the town to the sea. Pompey ran to meet her, and received her to his arms as she was just going to fall. While she hung upon his neck, she thus addressed him: "I see, my dear husband, your present unhappy condition is the effect of my ill fortune, and not yours. Alas! how are you reduced to one poor vessel, who, before your marriage with Cornelia, traversed the sea with 500 galleys! Why did you come to see me, and not rather leave me to my evil destiny, who have loaded you, too, with such a weight of calamities? How happy had it been for me to have died before I heard that Publius, my first husband, was killed by the Parthians! How wise, had I followed him to the grave, as I once intended! What have I lived for since, but to bring misfortunes upon Pompey the Great?"

Such, we are assured, was the speech of Cornelia; and Pompey answered: "Till this moment, Cornelia, you have experienced nothing but the smiles of fortune; and it was she who deceived you, because she stayed with me longer than she commonly does with her favorites. But, fated as we are, we must bear this reverse, and make another trial of her. For it is no more improbable that we may emerge from this poor condition and rise to great things again, than it was that we should fall from great things into this poor condition."

Cornelia then sent to the city for her most valuable movables and her servants.

As soon as his wife and his friends were embarked, he set sail, and continued his course without touching at any port, except for water and provisions, till he came to Attalia, a city of Pamphylia. There he was joined by some Cilician galleys; and beside picking up a number of soldiers, he found in a little time sixty senators about him. When he was informed that his fleet was still entire, and that Cato was gone to Africa with a considerable body of men which he had collected after their flight, he lamented to his friends his great error, in suffering himself to be forced into an engagement on land, and making no use of those forces, in which he was confessedly stronger; nor even taking care to fight near his fleet, that, in case of his meeting with a check on land, he might have been supplied from the sea with another army, capable of making head against the enemy. Indeed, we find no greater mistake in Pompey's whole conduct, nor a more remarkable instance of Caesar's generalship, than in removing the scene of action to such a distance from the naval force.

However, as it was necessary to undertake something with the small means he had left, he sent to some cities, and sailed to others himself, to raise money, and to get a supply of men for his ships. But knowing the extraordinary celerity of the enemy's motions, he was afraid he might be beforehand with him, and seize all that he was preparing. He, therefore, began to think of retiring to some asylum, and proposed the matter in council. They could not think of any province in the Roman empire that would afford a safe retreat; and when they cast their eyes on the foreign kingdoms, Pompey mentioned Parthia as the most likely to receive and protect them in their present weak condition, and afterwards to send them back with a force sufficient to retrieve their affairs. Others were of opinion it was proper to apply to Africa, and to Juba in particular. But Theophanes of Lesbos observed it was madness to leave Egypt, which was distant but three days' sail. Besides, Ptolemy, who was growing towards manhood, had particular obligations to Pompey on his father's account. As so it was determined that they should seek for refuge in Egypt. Being informed that Ptolemy was with his army at Pelusium, where he was engaged in war with his sister, he proceeded thither, and sent a messenger before him to announce his arrival, and to entreat the king's protection.