Civil Wars

The centre of Pompey's formation was commanded by his father-in-law, Scipio, the left wing by Domitius Ahenobarbus, and the right by Lentulus. Afranius and Pompey guarded the camp.[*](This is a strange blunder, and is inconsistent with the author's own account of Pompey's subsequent movements. A few lines below he says that after the line of battle was formed each commander moved about among the ranks encouraging his men, and in Sec. 81 he says that when Pompey saw the flight of his men he slowly retired to his camp. Cæsar says that Pompey commanded the left wing of his army in person. Plutarch says he commanded the right wing. Of course Cæsar's testimony is to be preferred.) On Cæsar's side the commanders were P. Sulla, Antony, and Cn. Domitius. Cæsar took a convenient place in the tenth legion, as was his custom. When the enemy saw this they transferred, to face that legion, the best of their horse, in order to surround it if they could, by their superiority of numbers. When Cæsar perceived this movement he placed 3000 of his bravest foot-soldiers in ambush and ordered them, when they should see the enemy trying to flank him, to rise, dart forward, and thrust their spears directly in the faces of the men because, as they were fresh and inexperienced and still in the bloom of youth, they could not endure injury to their faces.[*](Cæsar's account of this manœuvre is as follows: " Fearing lest his right wing should be surrounded by the greater number of the enemy's horse he rapidly withdrew from the third line one cohort from each legion, and from these formed a fourth line and ranged them in opposition to the enemy's cavalry and explained what he wished them to do and admonished them that the success of this day depended on their valor." (iii. 89.) He says nothing about aiming at the faces of the enemy. It is mentioned by Plutarch, by Lucan, and by Florus, but is probably a fable.) Thus they laid their plans against each other, and each commander passed through the ranks of his own troops, attending to what was needful, exhorting his men to courage, and giving them the watchword, which on Cæsar's side was "Venus the Victorious," and on Pompey's "Hercules the Invincible."

When all was in readiness on both sides they waited for some time in profound silence, hesitating, looking steadfastly at each other, each expecting the other to begin the battle. They were stricken with sorrow for the great host, for never before had such large Roman armies confronted the same danger together. They had pity for the valor of these men (the elite of both parties), especially because they saw Romans embattled against Romans. As the danger came nearer, the ambition that had inflamed and blinded them was extinguished, and gave place to fear. Reason purged the mad passion for glory, estimated the peril, and exposed the cause of the war, showing how two men contending with each other for supremacy had put themselves in a position where the one who should be vanquished could no longer hold even the humblest place, and how so great a number of the nobility were incurring the same risk on their account. The leaders reflected also that they, who had lately been friends and relatives by marriage, and had coöperated with each other in many ways to gain rank and power, had now drawn the sword for mutual slaughter and were leading to the same impiety those serving under them, men of the same city, of the same tribe, blood relations, and in some cases brothers against brothers. Even these circumstances were not wanting in this battle; because many unexpected things must happen when thousands of the same nation come together in the clash of arms. Reflecting on these things each of them was seized with unavailing repentance, and since this day was to decide for each whether he should be the highest or the lowest of the human race, they hesitated to begin the fight. It is said that both of them shed tears.[*](This is a chapter of moralizing quite unusual in the writings of Appian. The view which he takes of this war, that it was merely a contest between two ambitious chieftains, instead of being one incident in a long struggle between a corrupt oligarchy and a debased democracy, was commonly held by men of letters until comparatively recent times.)

While they were waiting and looking at each other the day was advancing. All the Italian troops stood motionless in their places, but when Pompey saw that his allied forces were falling into confusion by reason of the delay he feared lest the disorder should spread from them before the beginning of the battle. So he gave the signal first and Cæsar reëchoed it. Straightway the trumpets, of which there were many distributed among so great a host, aroused the soldiers with their inspiring blasts, and the standard-bearers and officers put themselves in motion and exhorted their men. The latter advanced confidently to the encounter, but with stolidity and absolute silence, like men who had had experience in many similar engagements. And now, as they came nearer together, there was first a discharge of arrows and stones. Then as the cavalry were a little in advance of the infantry they charged each other. Those of Pompey prevailed and began to flank the tenth legion. Cæsar then gave the signal to the cohorts in ambush and these, starting up suddenly, advanced to meet the cavalry, and with spears elevated aimed at the faces of the riders. The latter could not endure the enemy's savagery, nor the blows on their mouths and eyes, but fled in disorder. Thereupon Cæsar's men,[*](The text says "Cæsar's horse," but Schweighäuser considers this a manifest error since Appian, in Sec. 79, says that it was the tenth legion that struck Pompey's left flank. Cæsar himself says that the six cohorts in reserve executed this decisive movement. At all events it could not have been Cæsar's horse.) who had just now been afraid of being surrounded, fell upon the flank of Pompey's infantry which was denuded of its cavalry supports.

When Pompey learned this he ordered his infantry not to advance farther, not to break the line of formation, and not to hurl the javelin, but to bring their spears to a rest and ward off the onset of the enemy. Some persons praise this order of Pompey as the best in a case where one is attacked in flank, but Cæsar criticises it in his letters.[*](There is some confusion here. Cæsar says (iii. 93) that at the beginning of the battle (not after the repulse of his cavalry) Pompey ordered his soldiers not to move from their places but to await the attack and not allow their line to be broken, thinking that the space between the two armies was so great that Cæsar's men if they charged across it would come up blown. "This," he continues, "seems to me to have been an error on Pompey's part, because there is a certain ardor and eagerness of spirit inborn in mankind, which is excited in the heat of battle, and which commanders ought to encourage, not repress.") He says that the blows are delivered with more force, and that the spirits of the men are raised, by running, while those who stand still lose courage by reason of their immobility and become excellent targets for those charging against them. So, he says, it proved in this case, for the tenth legion, with Cæsar himself, surrounded Pompey's left wing, now deprived of cavalry, and assailed it with javelins in flank, where it stood immovable; until, finally, the assailants threw it into disorder, routed it, and this was the beginning of the victory. In the rest of the field killing and wounding of all kinds were going on, but no cry came from the scene of carnage, no lamentation from the wounded or the dying, only sighs and groans from those who were falling honorably in their tracks. The allies, who were looking at the battle as at a game, were astonished at the discipline of the combatants. So dumfounded were they that they did not dare attack Cæsar's tents, although they were guarded only by a few old men. Nor did they accomplish anything else, but stood in a kind of stupor.

As Pompey's left wing began to give way his men even still retired step by step and in perfect order, but the allies who had not been in the fight, fled with headlong speed, shouting, "we are vanquished," dashed upon their own tents and fortifications as though they had been the enemy's, and pulled down and plundered whatever they could carry away in their flight. Now the rest of Pompey's legions, perceiving the disaster to the left wing, retired slowly at first, in good order, and still resisting as well as they could; but when the enemy, flushed with victory, pressed upon them they turned in flight. Then, in order that they might not rally, and that this might be the end of the whole war and not of one battle merely, Cæsar, with the greatest prudence, sent heralds everywhere among the ranks to order the victors to spare their own countrymen and to smite only the auxiliaries. The heralds drew near to the retreating enemy and told them to stand still without fear. As this proclamation was passed from man to man they halted, and the phrase "stand without fear" began to be passed as a sort of watchword among Pompey's soldiers; for, being Italians, they were clad in the same style as Cæsar's men and spoke the same language. Accordingly, the latter passed by them and fell upon the auxiliaries, who were not able to resist, and made a very great slaughter among them.[*](Cæsar says that the Pompeians fled to their fortified camp, and that, although it was now midday and the heat was excessive, he exhorted his soldiers to make use of their good fortune and storm the enemy's entrenchments, and that they obeyed cheerfully. After a short engagement here the Pompeians again fled and took refuge in the high mountains adjacent. (iii. 95.))