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.))

When Pompey saw the retreat of his men he became dazed and retired slowly to his camp, and when he reached his tent he sat down speechless,[*](There is a striking similarity here both in language and narrative, between Appian and Plutarch. The former says: *pomph/i+os a)ph/|ei ba/dhn e)s to\ strato/pedon kai\ parelqw\n e)s th\n skhnh\n e)kaqe/zeto a)/naudos. The latter (Life of Pompey, 72) says: a)ph/|ei ba/dhn ei)s to\n xa/raka . . . ei)s th\n skhnh\n parelqw\n a)/fqoggos kaqh=sto. Here is fresh confirmation of the belief that both Appian and Plutarch drew from a Greek, not from a Latin, source, for if they had translated from Latin it is most improbable that they would have used the same Greek words, in the same, or very nearly the same, order. Moreover, both of them make reference here to the Iliad xi. 543, where Ajax Telamon is smitten with panic by Zeus in the midst of battle. Plutarch quotes the passage itself.) resembling Ajax, the son of Telamon, who, they say, suffered in like manner in the midst of his enemies at Troy, being deprived of his senses by a god. Very few of the rest returned to the camp, for Cæsar's proclamation caused them to remain unharmed, and as their enemies had passed beyond them they dispersed in groups. As the day was declining Cæsar ran hither and thither among his troops and besought them to continue their exertions till they should capture Pompey's

camp, telling them that if they allowed the enemy to rally they would be the victors for only a single day, whereas if they should take the enemy's camp they would finish the war with this one blow. He stretched out his hands to them and took the lead in person. Although they were weary in body, the words and example of their commander lightened their spirits. Their success so far, and the hope of capturing the enemy's camp and the contents thereof, excited them; for in the midst of hope and prosperity men feel fatigue least. So they fell upon the camp and assaulted it with the utmost disdain for the defenders. When Pompey learned this he started up from his strange silence, exclaiming, "What! in our very camp?" Having spoken thus he changed his clothing, mounted a horse, and fled with four friends, and did not draw rein until he reached Larissa early the next morning. So Cæsar established himself in Pompey's camp as he had promised to do when he was preparing for the battle, and ate Pompey's supper, and the whole army feasted at the enemy's expense.[*](Plutarch's account of Pompey's flight is in nearly the same words, viz: "He sat in silence until some of those who were pursuing the fugitives rushed in with them, when he uttered the single sentence: 'What! in our very camp ?' He spoke not another word, but put on clothing suited to his present fortune and stole away." (Life of Pompey, 72.) Cæsar says: " When our men forced their way into his intrenchment Pompey threw off his general's uniform, mounted a horse, went out by the rear gate of his camp and urged his horse with all speed to Larissa. Nor did he stop there, but with the same speed, having collected a few of his scattered soldiers, still travelling by night, with a company of thirty horsemen, he pushed on to the sea where he embarked on a supply ship," etc. (iii. 96.))

The losses of Italians on each side -- for there was no report of the losses of auxiliaries, either because of their multitude or because they were despised -- were as follows: in Cæsar's army. thirty centurions and 200 legionaries, or, as some authorities have it, 1200; on Pompey's side ten senators, among whom was Lucius Domitius, the same who had been sent to succeed Cæsar himself in Gaul, and about forty distinguished knights. Some exaggerating writers put the loss in the remainder of his forces at 25,000, but Asinius Pollio, who was one of Cæsar's officers in this battle, records the number of dead Pompeians found as 6000.[*](Cæsar puts his own loss at thirty centurions and 200 private soldiers, and Pompey's at 15,000 killed and 24,000 prisoners. We must infer that Appian was not acquainted with Cæsar's Commentaries, for if he had been he would most probably have quoted him here instead of referring in a loose way to " exaggerating writers.") Such was the result of the famous battle of Pharsalus. Cæsar himself carries off the palm for first and second place by common consent, and with him the tenth legion. The third place is taken by the centurion Crastinus, whom Cæsar asked at the beginning of the battle what result he anticipated, and who responded proudly, "We shall conquer, O Cæsar, and you will thank me either living or dead." The whole army testifies that he darted through the ranks like one possessed and did many brilliant deeds. When sought for he was found among the dead, and Cæsar bestowed military honors on his body and buried it, and erected a special tomb for him near the common burial-place of the others.[*](The affair of Crastinus is mentioned by Cæsar, by Florus, and by Plutarch in his life of Pompey and again in his life of Cæsar. The reference here made to Asinius Pollio has led to much discussion in the learned world, touching the sources from which Appian and Plutarch drew. The words used by Crastinus are almost identical in the three passages (one of Appian and two of Plutarch), and this leads Wynne, Hulleman, and Hermann Peter to believe that both authors borrowed from Pollio's history. Vollgraff on the other hand contends that as Pollio wrote in Latin it would have been little less than miraculous if both of them had used the same Greek words in translating it. He considers it remarkable also that the only reference made to Pollio's writings by either of them should have been here, and that both of them mentioned incidentally the fact that Pollio himself took part in the engagement. All of these coincidences may be explained if we suppose that both Plutarch and Appian took the facts from a common Greek source; that is, from some author who took them from Pollio. (See Vollgraff's Greek Writers of Roman History, Leyden, 1880.))

From Larissa Pompey continued his flight to the sea where he embarked in a small boat, and meeting a ship by chance he sailed to Mitylene. There he joined his wife, Cornelia, and they embarked with four triremes which had come to him from Rhodes and Tyre. He decided not to sail for Corcyra and Africa, where he had other large military and naval forces as yet untouched, but intended to push on eastward to the king of the Parthians, expecting to receive every assistance from him. He concealed his intention until he arrived at Cilicia, where he revealed it hesitatingly to his friends; but they advised him to beware of the Parthian, against whom Crassus had lately led an expedition, and who was puffed up by his victory over the latter, and especially not to put in the power of these barbarians the beautiful Cornelia, who had formerly been the wife of Crassus.[*](The younger Crassus, who lost his life in the war against the Parthians.) Then he made a second proposal respecting Egypt and Juba.[*](King of Numidia. See Sec. 44 supra.) The latter they despised as not sufficiently distinguished, but they all agreed about going to Egypt, which was near and was a great kingdom, still prosperous and abounding in ships, provisions, and money. Its sovereigns, although children, were allied to Pompey by their father's friendship. For these reasons he sailed to Egypt.

Cleopatra, who had previously reigned with her brother, had been lately expelled from Egypt and was collecting an army in Syria. Ptolemy, her brother, was at Mount Casius in Egypt,[*](The modern Mount El Kas. There was another Mount Casius in Syria.) lying in wait for her invasion, and, as Providence would have it, the wind carried Pompey thither. Seeing a large army on the shore he stopped his ship, judging that the king was there, which was the fact. So he sent messengers to tell of his arrival and to speak of his father's friendship. The king was then about thirteen years of age and was under the tutelage of Achillas, who commanded his army, and the eunuch Pothinus, who had charge of his treasury. These took counsel together concerning Pompey. There was present also Theodotus, a rhetorician of Samos, the boy's tutor, who offered the infamous advice that they should lay a trap for Pompey and kill him in order to curry favor with Cæsar.[*](Theodotus argued (says Plutarch) " that if they should give shelter to the fugitive they would have Cæsar for an enemy and Pompey for a master; if they should send him away he would be offended by their want of hospitality, and Cæsar would be angry with them for letting him escape. The best way would be to send for him and kill him. In that way they would gratify the one and need not fear the other. He added with a smile that dead men do not bite." (Life of Pompey, 77).) His opinion prevailed. So they sent a miserable skiff to bring him, pretending that the sea was shallow and not adapted to large ships. Some of the king's attendants came in the skiff, among them a Roman, named Sempronius,[*](Cæsar, Plutarch, Florus, and Dion Cassius, give this miscreant the name of Septimius. Cæsar says that he was a military tribune and that he had served under Pompey in the war against the pirates. Florus adds that he was a deserter from Pompey's army.) who was then serving in the king's army and had formerly served under Pompey himself. He gave his hand to Pompey in the king's name and directed him to take passage in the boat to the young man as to a friend. At the same time the whole army was marshalled along the shore as if to do honor to Pompey, and the king was plainly seen in the midst of them wearing a purple robe.

Pompey's suspicions were aroused by all that he observed -- the marshalling of the army, the meanness of the skiff, and the fact that the king himself did not come to meet him nor send any of his high dignitaries. Nevertheless, he entered the skiff, repeating to himself these lines of Sophocles, "Whoever resorts to a tyrant becomes his slave, even if he were free when he went." While rowing to the shore all were silent, and this made him still more suspicious. Finally, either recognizing Sempronius as a Roman soldier who had served under him or guessing that he was such because he alone remained standing (for, according to military discipline, a soldier does not sit in the presence of his commander), he turned to him and said, "Do I not know you, comrade? " The other nodded and, as Pompey turned away, he immediately gave him the first stab and the others followed his example. Pompey's wife and friends who saw this at a distance cried out and, lifting their hands to heaven, invoked the gods, the avengers of violated faith. Then they sailed away in all haste as from an enemy's country.