It

opportunity, which every principle of policy or prudence called upon him to withhold. His sun set for ever at Pharsalia, and Cæsar remained master of the world, without a surviving competitor of formidable pretensions. would have been better for Pompey to have fallen leading the charge of his cavalry, than to perish ingloriously, and by ignoble hands, on the shore at Pelusium. So had it been more in character for Napoleon to have died with his Imperial Guards, by the fire of a British square, at Waterloo, than to linger six years in wasting disease on the rock of St. Helena. The ends of the greatest men who have filled the world with their fame, sometimes convey a deeper moral than the most glowing incidents of their lives.

On the dawn of Pharsalia, Cæsar was preparing to strike his tents, and shift his encampment to Scotusa, a city of Thessaly, lying towards the north. He felt persuaded that Pompey would avoid an action, and, therefore, chose to march in search of provisions, as well as to harass the enemy by frequent change of position, trusting that in some of these movements they might lay themselves open to the chance of attack. Operations somewhat similar to these occurred previous to the battle of Salamanca, when the Duke of Wellington and Marshal Marmont manœuvred in close proximity for several weeks, and moved in parallel lines overa vast tract of country, each watching until the other should give him an opportunity to strike. When Cæsar's scouts brought him intelligence, that the enemy were moving out of their camp in order of battle, and determined to fight, he saw that the anticipated moment had at last arrived. "The longwished-for day is come," said he, " "on which we shall fight with men, and not with want and famine."* His soldiers felt confident of victory, and were equally elated with himself. So surely did he anticipate the result, that he ordered his intrenchments to be filled up, assuring his troops that they would be masters of the enemy's camp before night. His own account of the battle is very perspicuous and soldier-like. pian and Plutarch differ from him in some important particulars, but we follow his recital as the more eligible authority. Cæsar wrote his commentaries as the events occurred, from his

Ap

own observation, and details the operations he himself directed. As he enlarges freely on his errors and mischances, there is no reason to suppose he exaggerates his successes. After the lapse of nineteen centuries, his military notes come down to us as models of clear and elegant style in composition, and carrying internal evidence of authenticity. As it has been before remarked, there is a peculiar grace, and absence of egotism, in his use of the third person, when speaking of his own exploits. Asinius Pollio, a contemporary warrior and writer (afterwards of consular rank), who outlived Cæsar forty-eight years, composed a history of the wars, which has been lost; but Suetonius says,† that he charged Cæsar with inaccuracy in his Commentaries. In this imputation he stands alone, as no other author appears to have seconded him.

As Hannibal scarcely rose to his own level at Zama, so did Pompey fall beneath the high renown of his earlier days at Pharsalia. On his part, this campaign was defective from the beginning. His first great error lay in being enticed inland from the sea, by which he removed to a distance from his resources, and lost the co-operation of his superior fleet, a certain means of improving success or repairing failure. repairing failure. Secondly, nothing should have induced him to play the game of Cæsar, by offering battle when he did, although his overwhelming numbers gave strong expectation of victory; and, lastly, he left the field too soon, and fled in despair, while his army were fighting on without a general. Cæsar, on the contrary, appears to have calculated everything, and to have retrieved his incautious attack on the lines of Dyrrachium, by a series of after-operations, as ably planned as they were triumphantly accomplished. The searching truth of history hesitates to place Pompey in the first rank of first-rate commanders. Hannibal and Scipio at Zama-Napoleon and Wellington at Waterloo, come more closely into parallel than does the conqueror of Mithridates, when opposed to Cæsar at Pharsalia. The early title of Magnus, or "Great," bestowed on Pompey by Sylla, gave him a preponderating reputation, and his victories in the East eclipsed the glories of Lucullus. But battles against the effeminate hordes of Asia were easily won, in comparison

In Vit. Jul. Cæs. i. 56.

with the severer struggles against the hardy tribes of Northern Europe. When Cæsar overthrew Pharnaces, the son and successor of Mithridates, at Zela, he described the facility of his conquest in the celebrated and laconic letter to his friend Amintius, at Rome —“Veni, vidi, vici"-I came, I saw, I conquered. He also observed, that when his thoughts reverted to his dif ficult campaigns in Gaul and Germany, he sighed to think how cheaply Lucullus and Pompey had earned their laurels. Sertorius had given Pompey some rough lessons in Spain, and inpressed on him the difference of battles in which Romans encountered each

other. When Pompey thought to surround and besiege Sertorius at Lauron (now Liria, near Valencia), he came suddenly on his rear, took him by surprise, and gave him a signal defeat. I will teach that scholar of Sylla," said he, "that a good general ought to look behind, rather than before him." Again, at Tuttia, he would have utterly destroyed the army of Pompey, had not Metellus, his colleague, arrived with fresh forces, at the turning crisis of the battle. "If the old woman had not interfered," said Sertorius, as he reluctantly drew off from the field, "I would have flogged the boy soundly. and sent him back again to Rome."

B

No. 1.

On both these occasions, there can be no doubt that Pompey was beaten by superior generalship. Whenever Cæsar sustained a check, he brought it on himself by attempting, in the face of insuperable odds, more than even his soldiers were equal to achieve.

Pompey came forth to battle at Pharsalia against his conviction, and with forebodings of failure. Cæsar grappled with the chance, in the full confidence of victory. So did Napoleon, when the sun rose bright and unclouded on the morning of that cold December day in 1805, which heralded in his greatest triumph; and, on more than one similar occasion, he pointed to the great luminary of nature, and exclaimed-"Behold the Sun of Austerlitz!"

When Cæsar approached the camp of Pompey, he found his army ready for combat, and drawn up in the following manner. In the left wing were the two legions delivered over by Cæsar at the beginning of the quarrel, in obedience to a decree of the senate. These were the first and third, and here Pompey (according to Cæsar) commanded in person. Plutarch says, in opposition to this, that Pompey placed himself in his right wing. It seems surprising that the account which Cæsar himself has left us should meet with contradiction on this essential point; but so it is, and we must compare the value of the authorities, as we cannot

reconcile them. It appears unlikely that the general-in-chief, on whom all depended, should take post at a distance from the place where the decisive conflict was certainly indicated. Scipio, Pompey's father-in-law, commanded in the centre, with the legions he had brought out of Syria. The Cilician Legion, joined to the Spanish Cohorts, under the leading of Afranius, formed the right wing. These Pompey esteemed his best troops, distributing the less expert in separate cohorts between the wings and the main body. He had in all one hundred and ten cohorts, amounting to 45,000 men; besides two cohorts of volunteers, who had served under him in former wars, and who, out of affection to their old general, though their legal time of service had expired, flocked to his standard on this occasion, and were distributed amongst the whole army. His other seven cohorts were left to guard the camp and the adjoining forts. The

troops were disposed after the usual manner of Roman tactics, in three lines, with very little spaces between them. The Enipeus, a river with steep banks, covered the right. On the extreme left, 7,000 cavalry were drawn up in a compact mass, supported by the archers and slingers. This gallant body contained many of the noblest youths of Rome, splendidly mounted and equipped, glittering in gold and siver, but totally inexperienced in war, although dangerous and imposing from their overwhelming numbers.

to

When Cæsar observed the dispositions of his adversary, he at once penetrated their object, and saw that his intention was to break and surround his right flank, by the superior weight of his horse. He therefore made corresponding movements counteract the impending danger. According to custom, he placed the tenth legion in the right, and the ninth in the left wing. As this last had been considerably weakened by the several actions at Dyrrachium, he joined the eighth to it in such manner, that they formed as it were but one corps, and received orders mutually to relieve each other. His infantry amounted to eighty cohorts, in all 22,000 men, besides two cohorts left to guard the camp. Domitius Calvinus commanded in the centre, Mark Antony on the left, and Publius Sylla on the right. Cæsar took his post opposite to Pompey, at the head of the tenth legion, that he might watch his motions and keep him always in sight. Observing that his extreme right was considerably outflanked, and exposed to be enveloped by Pompey's cavalry, he draughted six cohorts or battalions of infantry, each 500 strong, from his reserve. With these he formed a fourth division of 3,000 picked troops, not prolonging the regular line, but facing obliquely to the right, and in the rear of his own cavalry, so as to be screened from the enemy's view until the proper moment arrived for their advance. He explained to these cohorts that on their valour and steadiness the issue of the battle depended, and that they would inevitably win the victory for him, if they obeyed orders, and stirred not from their ranks until he gave the signal. Their instructions were, when the enemy's horse had charged and were endeavouring to surround the

right flank, to wheel round rapidly on the nearest assailants, and then not to discharge their javelins at a distance, as brave soldiers generally do in their eagerness to come to sword in hand combat, but to reserve them until they got to close fighting, and then thrust them upward into the eyes and faces of the enemy. "For these fair blooming dancers," said he; "these delicate Roman exquisites* will never stand against steel aimed at their eyes, but will fly to save their handsome features." The rest of the army were equally cautioned against any irregular advance, and in particular the third division were strictly directed to hold their ground until they received the usual signal. Between the two armies there was an interval sufficient for the onset. While Cæsar was completing his dispositions, Pompey rode along his own front, and took a general view of the field. He perceived that the enemy kept their ranks with the ut most exactness, and waited, in practised discipline and perfect silence, the signal to advance; while his own men, for want of experience, were fluctuating and unsteady, having no confidence in themselves. He was afraid they would be broken on the first close, and therefore commanded them to stand firm in position, and in compact order to receive the attack. He is said to have done this by the advice of an old military tribune, Caius Triarius, that Cæsar's soldiers might be exhausted and out of breath by having double the usual distance to run, before they came to personal conflict. Cæsar condemns this measure as most injudicious and defective generalship. "Herein," says he, "Pompey seems to have acted without sufficient reason, because there is a certain alacrity and ardour of mind naturally planted in every man, which is inflamed by the desire of fighting; and which an able general, far from endeavouring to suppress, will, by all the methods he can devise, foment and cherish. Nor was it a vain institution of our ancestors, that the trumpets should sound on every side, and the whole army rafse a shout, in order to animate the cou

rage of their own men, and strike terror into the enemy."†

Perceiving that Pompey remained immoveable, Cæsar halted his army mid-way to give them time to recover breath, and regain their full force. By this the calculations of Pompey were entirely defeated, and he lost one advantage he had reckoned on before the actual fight commenced. Cæsar says his men paused of their own accord, but this seems almost incredible, and a simultaneous effort of discipline and forethought, beyond even those practised veterans. The opposing armies were now within a few paces of each other, and after a momentary gaze, closed in mortal conflict. Sir Harry Smith, at Aliwal, made a similar halt, under fire, and in immediate proximity to the enemies' columns, to see that all his forces were in hand, and his combinations complete, before he dashed at the foe, and drove them into the Sutlej-an instance of selfcommand and masterly generalship not often recorded. Almost at the same instant, when the two lines of infantry engaged along their full extent, Pompey's horse were launched in a furious charge, against the cavalry of Cæsar, who gave way before the overpowering rush. The hostile squadrons, supported by the archers and slingers, now began to extend themselves to the left, preparing to outflank and surround Cæsar's right wing and reserve; whereupon he gave the appointed signal to the six cohorts, who fell on them with such rapidity and daring valour, striking and thrusting at their faces as they had been expressly directed, that those showy cavaliers soon gave way and fled shamefully, to the utter ruin of their cause. They covered their faces with their hands, according to the quaint expression of Plutarch, as well on account of the present danger as of the future deformity. They not only abandoned the field of battle, but sought refuge in the distant mountains. The archers and slingers, deprived of their protection, were speedily cut to pieces. The victorious cohorts lost not a moment in improving their suc

† Cæsar de Bello Civili, lib. iii. cap. lxxvi.