The people of Rome appear, from the first, to have been affected towards
Pompey, much in the same manner as Prometheus, in Aeschylus, was towards
Hercules, when after that hero had delivered him from his chains, he
says--
The sire I hated, but the son I loved.
For never did the Romans entertain a stronger and more rancorous hatred
for any general than for Strabo, the father of Pompey. While he lived,
indeed, they were afraid of his abilities as a soldier, for he had
great talents for war; but upon his death, which happened by a stroke
of lightning, they dragged his corpse from the bier, on the way to the
funeral pile, and treated it with the greatest indignity. On the other
hand, no man ever experienced from the same Romans an attachment more
early begun, more disinterested in all the stages of his prosperity, or
more constant and faithful in the decline of his fortune, than Pompey.
The sole cause of their aversion to the father was his insatiable
avarice; but there were many causes of their affection for the son;
his temperate way of living, his application to martial exercises, his
eloquent and persuasive address, his strict honor and fidelity, and the
easiness of access to him upon all occasions; for no man was ever less
importunate in asking favors, or more gracious in conferring them. When
he gave, it was without arrogance; and when he received, it was with
dignity.
In his youth he had a very engaging countenance, which spoke for him
before he opened his lips. Yet that grace of aspect was not attended
with dignity, and amidst his youthful bloom there was a venerable and
princely air. His hair naturally curled a little before; which, together
with the shining moisture and quick turn of his eye, produced a stronger
likeness to Alexander the Great than that which appeared in the statues
of that prince.
As to the simplicity of his diet, there is a remarkable saying of his
upon record. In a great illness, when his appetite was almost gone, the
physician ordered him a thrush. His servants, upon inquiry, found there
was not one to be had for money, for the season was passed. They
were informed, however, that Lucullus had them all the year in his
menageries. This being reported to Pompey, he said, "Does Pompey's life
depend upon the luxury of Lucullus?" Then, without any regard to the
physician, he ate something that was easy to be had.
After the death of Cinna, Carbo, a tyrant still more savage, took the
reins of government. It was not long, however, before Sylla returned to
Italy, to the great satisfaction of most of the Romans, who, in their
present unhappy circumstances, thought the change of their master no
small advantage.
Pompey, at the age of twenty-three, without a commission from any
superior authority, erected himself into a general; and having placed
his tribunal in the most public part of the great city of Auximum,
enlisted soldiers and appointed tribunes, centurions, and other
officers, according to the established custom. He did the same in all
the neighboring cities; for the partisans of Carbo retired and gave
place to him; and the rest were glad to range themselves under his
banners. So that in a little time he raised three complete legions,
and furnished himself with provisions, beasts of burden, carriages; in
short, with the whole apparatus of war.
In this form he moved towards Sylla, not by hasty marches, nor as if
he wanted to conceal himself; for he stopped by the way to harass the
enemy; and attempted to draw off from Carbo all the parts of Italy
through which he passed. At last, three generals of the opposite party,
Carinna, Caelius, and Brutus, came against him all at once, not in
front, or in one body, but they hemmed him in with their three armies,
in hopes to demolish him entirely.
Pompey, far from being terrified, assembled all his forces, and charged
the army of Brutus at the head of his cavalry. The Gaulish horse on the
enemy's side sustained the first shock; but Pompey attacked the foremost
of them, who was a man of prodigious strength, and brought him down with
a push of his spear. The rest immediately fled and threw the infantry
into such disorder that the whole was soon put to flight. This produced
so great a quarrel among the three generals, that they parted and took
separate routes. In consequence of which, the cities, concluding that
the fears of the enemy had made them part, adopted the interest of
Pompey.
Not long after, Scipio the consul advanced to engage him. But before the
infantry were near enough to discharge their lances, Scipio's soldiers
saluted those of Pompey, and came over to them. Scipio, therefore,
was forced to fly. At last, Carbo sent a large body of cavalry against
Pompey, near the river Arsis. He gave them so warm a reception, that
they were soon broken, and in the pursuit drove them upon impracticable
ground; so that finding it impossible to escape, they surrendered
themselves with their arms and horses.
Sylla had not yet been informed of these transactions; but upon the
first news of Pompey's being engaged with so many adversaries, and such
respectable generals, he dreaded the consequence, and marched with
all expedition to his assistance. Pompey, having intelligence of his
approach, ordered his officers to see that the troops were armed and
drawn up in such a manner as to make the handsomest and most gallant
appearance before the commander-in-chief. For he expected great honours
from him, and he obtained greater. Sylla no sooner saw Pompey advancing
to meet him, with an army in excellent condition, both as to age and
size of the men, and the spirits which success had given them, than he
alighted; and upon being saluted of course by Pompey as Imperator, he
returned his salutation with the same title: though no one imagined that
he would have honoured a young man not yet admitted into the senate with
a title for which he was contending with the Scipios and the Marii. The
rest of his behavior was as respectable as that in the first interview.
He used to rise up and uncover his head, whenever Pompey came to him;
which he was rarely observed to do for any other, though he had a number
of persons of distinction about him.
While Pompey was in Sicily, he received a decree of the senate, and
letters from Sylla, in which he was commanded to cross over to Africa
and to carry on the war with the utmost vigor against Domitius, who had
assembled a much more powerful army than that which Marius carried not
long before from Africa to Italy, when he made himself master of
Rome, and from a fugitive became a tyrant. Pompey soon finished his
preparation for this expedition; and leaving the command in Sicily to
Memmius, his sister's husband, he set sail with one hundred and twenty
armed vessels, and eight hundred store-ships, laden with provisions,
arms, money, and machines of war. Part of his fleet landed at Utica, and
part at Carthage: immediately after which seven thousand of the enemy
came over to him; and he had brought with him six legions complete.
On his arrival he met with a whimsical adventure. Some of his soldiers,
it seems, found a treasure, and rest of the troops concluded that the
place was full of money, which the Carthaginians had hid there in some
time of public distress. Pompey, therefore could make no use of them for
several days, as they were searching for treasures; and he had nothing
to do but walk about and amuse himself with the sight of so many
thousands digging and turning up the ground. At last, they gave up
the point, and bade him lead them wherever be pleased, for they were
sufficiently punished for their folly.
Domitius advanced to meet him, and put his troops in order of battle.
There happened to be a channel between them, craggy and difficult to
pass. Moreover, in the morning it began to rain, and the wind blew
violently; insomuch that Domitius, not imagining there would be any
action that day, ordered his army to retire. But Pompey looked upon this
as his opportunity, and he passed the defile with the utmost expedition.
The enemy stood upon their defence, but it was in a disorderly and
tumultuous manner, and the resistance they made was neither general
nor uniform. Besides the wind and rain beat in their faces. The storm
incommoded the Romans, too, for they could not well distinguish each
other. Nay, Pompey himself was in danger of being killed by a soldier,
who asked him the pass-word, and did not receive a speedy answer. At
length, however, he routed the enemy with great slaughter; not above
three thousand of them escaping out of twenty thousand. The soldiers
then saluted Pompey, Imperator, but he said he would not accept that
title while the enemy's camp stood untouched; therefore, if they chose
to confer such an honor upon him, they must first make themselves
masters of the intrenchments.
At that instant they advanced with great fury against them. Pompey
fought without his helmet, for fear of such an accident as he had just
escaped. The camp was taken, and Domitius slain; in consequence of
which most of the cities immediately submitted, and rest were taken by
assault. He took Iarbas, one of the confederates of Domitius, prisoner,
and bestowed his crown on Hiempsal. Advancing with the same tide of
fortune, and while his army had all the spirits inspired by success, he
entered Numidia, in which he continued his march for several days, and
subdued all that came in his way. Thus he revived the terror of the
Roman name, which the barbarians had begun to disregard. Nay, he chose
not to leave the savage beasts in the deserts without giving them a
specimen of the Roman valor and success. Accordingly he spent a few days
in hunting lions and elephants. The whole time he passed in Africa,
they tell us, was not above forty days; in which he defeated the enemy,
reduced the whole country, and brought the affairs of its kings under
proper regulations, though he was only in his twenty-fourth year.
Upon his return to Utica, he received letters from Sylla, in which he
was ordered to send home the rest of his army, and to wait there
with one legion only for a successor. This gave him a great deal of
uneasiness, which he kept to himself, but the army expressed their
indignation aloud; insomuch that when he entreated them to return to
Italy, they launched out into abusive terms against Sylla, and declared
they would never abandon Pompey, or suffer him to trust a tyrant. At
first, he endeavored to pacify them with mild representations; and
when he found those had no effect, he descended from the tribunal, and
retired to his tent in tears. However, they went and took him thence,
and paced him again upon the tribunal, where they spent a great part of
the day; they insisting that he should stay and keep the command, and he
in persuading them to obey Sylla's orders, and to form no new faction.
At last, seeing no end of their clamors and importunity, he assured
them, with an oath, that he would kill himself, if they attempted to
force him. And even this hardly brought them to desist.
The first news that Sylla heard was, that Pompey had revolted; upon
which he said to his friends, "Then it is my fate to have to contend
with boys in my old age." This he said, because Marius, who was very
young, had brought him into so much trouble and danger. But when he
received true information of the affair, and observed that all the
people flocked out to receive Pompey to conduct him home with marks of
great regard, he resolved to exceed them in his regards, if possible.
He, therefore, hastened to meet him, and embracing him in the most
affectionate manner, saluted him aloud by the surname of Magnus, or The
Great; at the same time he ordered all about him to give him the same
appellation. Others say, it was given him by the whole army in Africa,
but did not generally obtain till it was authorized by Sylla. It is
certain, he was the last to take it himself, and he did not make use of
it till a long time after, when he was sent into Spain with the dignity
of pro-consul against Sertorius. Then he began to write himself in
his letters in all his edicts, Pompey the Great; for the world was
accustomed to the name, and it was no longer invidious. In this respect
we may justly admire the wisdom of the ancient Romans, who bestowed on
their great men such honorable names and titles, not only for military
achievements, but for the great qualities and arts which adorn civil
life.
When Pompey arrived at Rome, he demanded a triumph, in which he was
opposed by Sylla. The latter alleged that the laws did not allow that
honor to any person who was not either consul or praetor. Hence it was
that the first Scipio, when he returned victorious from greater wars and
conflicts with the Carthaginians in Spain, did not demand a triumph; for
he was neither consul nor praetor. He added, that if Pompey, who was
yet little better than a beardless youth, and who was not of age to be
admitted into the senate, should enter the city in triumph, it would
bring an odium both upon the dictator's power, and those honors of his
friend. These arguments Sylla insisted on, to show him that he would not
allow of his triumph, and that, in case he persisted, he would chastise
his obstinacy.
Pompey, not in the least intimidated, bade him consider, that more
worshiped the rising than the setting sun; intimating that his power was
increasing, and Sylla's upon the decline. Sylla did not hear well what
he said, but perceiving by the looks and gestures of the company that
they were struck with the expression, he asked what it was. When he was
told it, he admired the spirit of Pompey and cried, "Let him triumph!
Let him triumph!"
There is no doubt that he might then have been easily admitted a
senator, if he had desired it; but his ambition was to pursue honor in
a more uncommon track. It would have been nothing strange, if Pompey
had been a senator before the age fixed for it; but it was a very
extraordinary instance of honor to lead up a triumph before he was a
senator. And it contributed not a little to gain him the affections of
the multitude; the people were delighted to see him, after his triumph,
class with the equestrian order.
The power of the pirates had its foundation in Cilicia. Their progress
was the more dangerous, because at first it was little taken notice
of. In the Mithridatic war they assumed new confidence and courage, on
account of some services they had rendered the king. After this, the
Romans being engaged in civil wars at the very gates of their capital,
the sea was left unguarded, and the pirates by degrees attempted higher
things; they not only attacked ships, but islands, and maritime towns.
Many persons, distinguished for their wealth, their birth, and their
capacity, embarked with them, and assisted in the depredations, as if
their employment had been worthy the ambition of men of honor. They
had in various places arsenals, ports, and watch-towers, all strongly
fortified. Their fleets were not only extremely well manned, supplied
with skillful pilots, and fitted for their business by their lightness
and celerity; but there was a parade of vanity about them more
mortifying than their strength, in gilded sterns, purpose canopies, and
plated oars; as if they took a pride and triumphed in their villainy.
Music resounded, and drunken revels were exhibited on every coast. Here
generals were made prisoners; there the cities the pirates had taken
were paying their ransom; all to the great disgrace of the Roman power.
The number of their galleys amounted to one thousand, and the cities
they were masters of to four hundred.
Temples which had stood inviolably sacred till that time, they
plundered. They ruined the temple of Apollo at Claros, that of the
Cabiri in Samothrace, of Ceres at Hermione, of Aesculapius at Epidaurus,
those of Neptune in the Isthmus, at Taenarus and in Calauria, those
of Apollo at Actium and in the isle of Leucas, those of Juno at Samos,
Argos, and the promontory of Lacinium.
They likewise offered strange sacrifices; those of Olympus I mean; and
they celebrated certain secret mysteries, among which those of Mithra
continue to this day, being originally instituted by them. They not only
insulted the Romans at sea but infested the great roads, and plundered
the villas near the coast; they carried off Sextilius and Bellinus, two
praetors, in their purple robes, which all their servants and lictors.
They seized the daughter of Antony, a man who had been honored with a
triumph, as she was going to her country house, and he was forced to pay
a large ransom for her.
But the most contemptible circumstance of all was, that when they had
taken a prisoner, and he cried out that he was a Roman, and told them
his name, they pretended to be struck with terror, smote their thighs,
and fell upon their knees to ask him pardon. The poor man, seeing them
thus humble themselves before him, thought them in earnest, and said he
would forgive them; for some were so officious as to put on his shoes,
and others to help him on with his gown, that his quality might no more
be mistaken. When they had carried on this farce, and enjoyed it for
some time, they let a ladder down into the sea, and bade him go in
peace; and if he refused to do it, they pushed him off the deck, and
drowned him.
Their power extended over the whole Tuscan sea, so that the Romans found
their trade and navigation entirely cut off. The consequence of which
was, that their markets were not supplied, and they had reason to
apprehend a famine. This at last led them to send Pompey to clear the
sea of pirates. Gabinius, one of Pompey's intimate friends, proposed
the decree, which created him not admiral, but monarch, and invested him
with absolute power. The decree gave him the empire of the sea as far
as the Pillars of Hercules, and of the land for 400 furlongs from the
coasts. There were few parts of the Roman empire which this commission
did not take in; and the most considerable of the barbarous nations, and
most powerful kings, were moreover comprehended in it. Besides this he
was empowered to choose out of the senators fifteen lieutenants, to
act under him in such districts, and with such authority as he should
appoint. He was to take from the quaestors, and other public receivers,
what money he pleased, and equip a fleet of two hundred sail. The number
of marine forces, of mariners and rowers, was left entirely to his
discretion.
When this decree was read in the assembly, the people received it with
inconceivable pleasure. The most respectable part of the senate saw,
indeed, that such an absolute and unlimited power was above envy, but
they considered it as a real object of fear. They therefore all, except
Caesar, opposed its passing into a law. He was for it, not out of regard
for Pompey, but to insinuate himself into the good graces of the people,
which he had long been courting. The rest were very severe in the
expressions against Pompey; and one of the consuls venturing to say,
"If he imitates Romulus, he will not escape his fate," was in danger of
being pulled in pieces by the populace.
It is true, when Catulus rose up to speak against the law, out of
reverence for his person they listened to him with great attention.
After he had freely given Pompey the honor that was his due, and said
much in his praise, he advised them to spare him, and not to expose such
a man to so many dangers; "for where will you find another," said he,
"if you lose him?" They answered with one voice, "Yourself." Finding his
arguments had no effect, he retired. Then Roscius mounted the rostrum,
but not a man would give ear to him. However he made signs to them with
his fingers, that they should not appoint Pompey alone, but give him a
colleague. Incensed at the proposal, they set up such a shout, that a
crow, which was flying over the forum, was stunned with the force of it,
and fell down among the crowd. Hence we may conclude, that when birds
fall on such occasions, it is not because the air is so divided with the
shock as to leave a vacuum, but rather because the sound strikes them
like a blow, when it ascends with force, and produces so violent an
agitation.
The assembly broke up that day without coming to any resolution. When
the day came that they were to give their suffrages, Pompey retired into
the country; and, on receiving information that the decree was passed,
he returned to the city by night, to prevent the envy which the
multitudes of people coming to meet him would have excited. Next morning
at break of day he made his appearance, and attended the sacrifice.
After which, he summoned an assembly, and obtained a grant of almost as
much more as the first decree had given him. He was empowered to fit
out 500 galleys, and to raise an army of 120,000 foot, and 5,000
horse. Twenty-four senators were selected, who had all been generals or
praetors, and were appointed his lieutenants; and he had two quaestors
given him. As the price of provisions fell immediately, the people were
greatly pleased, and it gave them occasion to say that the very name of
Pompey had terminated the war.
However, in pursuance of his charge, he divided the whole Mediterranean
into thirteen parts, appointing a lieutenant for each, and assigning him
a squadron. By thus stationing his fleet in all quarters, he enclosed
the pirates as it were in a net, took great numbers of them, and brought
them into harbor. Such of their vessels as had dispersed and made off
in time, or could escape the general chase, retired to Cilicia, like
so many bees into a hive. Against these he proposed to go himself, with
sixty of his best galleys; but first he resolved to clear the Tuscan
sea, and the coasts of Africa, Sardinia, Corsica, and Sicily, of all
piratical adventurers; which he effected in forty days, by his own
indefatigable endeavors and those of his lieutenants. But, as the consul
Piso was indulging his malignity at home, in wasting his stores and
discharging his seamen, he sent his fleet round to Brundusium, and went
himself by land through Tuscany to Rome.
As soon as the people were informed of his approach, they went in crowds
to receive him, in the same manner as they had done a few days before,
to conduct him on his way. Their extraordinary joy was owing to the
speed with which he had executed his commission, so far beyond all
expectation, and to the superabundant plenty which reigned in the
markets. For this reason Piso was in danger of being deposed from the
consulship, and Gabinius had a decree ready drawn up for that purpose;
but Pompey would not suffer him to propose it. On the contrary, his
speech to the people was full of candor and moderation; and when he had
provided such things as he wanted, he went to Brundusium, and put to sea
again. Though he was straightened for time, and in his haste sailed by
many cities without calling, yet he stopped at Athens. He entered the
town and sacrificed to the gods; after which he addressed the people,
and then prepared to reembark immediately. As he went out of the gate he
observed two inscriptions, each comprised in one line.
That within the gate was:
But know thyself a man, and be a god.
That without:
We wish'd, we saw; we loved, and we adored.
Some of the pirates, who yet traversed the seas, made their submission;
and as he treated them in a humane manner, when he had them and their
ships in his power, others entertained hope of mercy, and avoiding the
other officers, surrendered themselves to Pompey, together with their
wives and children. He spared them all; and it was principally by
their means that he found out and took a number who were guilty of
unpardonable crimes, and therefore had concealed themselves.
Still, however, there remained a great number, and indeed the most
powerful part of these corsairs, who sent their families, treasures, and
all useless hands, into castles and fortified towns upon Mount Taurus.
Then they manned their ships, and waited for Pompey at Coracesium, in
Cilicia. A battle ensued, and the pirates were defeated; after which
they retired into the fort. But they had not been long besieged before
they capitulated, and surrendered themselves, together with the cities
and islands which they had conquered and fortified, and which by their
works as well as situation were almost impregnable. Thus the war was
finished, and whole force of the pirates destroyed, within three months
at the farthest.
Besides the other vessels, Pompey took ninety ships with beaks of brass;
and the prisoners amounted to 20,000. He did not choose to put them
to death, and at the same time he thought it wrong to suffer them
to disperse, because they were not only numerous, but warlike and
necessitous, and therefore would probably knit again and give future
trouble. He reflected, that man by nature is neither a savage nor an
unsocial creature; and when he becomes so, it is by vices contrary
to nature; yet even then he may be humanized by changing his place of
abode, and accustoming him to a new manner of life; as beasts that are
naturally wild put off their fierceness when they are kept in a domestic
way. For this reason he determined to remove the pirates to a great
distance from the sea, and bring them to taste the sweets of civil life,
by living in cities, and by the culture of the ground. He placed some
of them in the little towns of Cilicia, which were almost desolate, and
which received them with pleasure, because at the same time he gave them
an additional proportion of lands. He repaired the city of Soli, which
had lately been dismantled and deprived of its inhabitants by Tigranes,
king of Armenia, and peopled it with a number of these corsairs. The
remainder, which was a considerable body, he planted in Dyma, a city of
Achaia, which, though it had a large and fruitful territory, was in want
of inhabitants.
Pompey, having secured the sea from Phoenicia to the Bosphorus, marched
in quest of Mithridates, who had an army of 30,000 foot and 2,000 horse,
but durst not stand an engagement. That prince was in possession of a
strong and secure post upon a mountain, which he quitted upon Pompey's
approach, because it was destitute of water. Pompey encamped in the same
place; and conjecturing, from the nature of the plants and the crevices
in the mountain, that springs might be found, he ordered a number of
wells to be dug, and the camp was in a short time plentifully supplied
with water. He was not a little surprised that this did not occur to
Mithridates during the whole time of his encampment there.
After this, Pompey followed him to his new camp, and drew a line of
circumvallation round him. Mithridates stood a siege of forty-five days,
after which he found means to steal off with his best troops, having
first killed all the sick, and such as could be of no service. Pompey
overtook him near the Euphrates, and encamped over against him; but
fearing he might pass the river unperceived, he drew out his troops
at midnight. At that time Mithridates is said to have had a dream
prefigurative of what was to befall him. He thought he was upon
the Pontic Sea, sailing with a favorable wind, and in sight of the
Bosphorus; so that he felicitated his friends in the ship, like a man
perfectly safe, and already in harbor. But suddenly he beheld himself in
the most destitute condition, swimming upon a piece of wreck. While he
was in all the agitation which this dream produced, his friends awaked
him, and told him that Pompey was at hand. He was now under a necessity
of fighting for his camp, and his generals drew up the forces with all
possible expedition.
Pompey, seeing them prepared, was loth to risk a battle in the dark. He
thought it sufficient to surround them, so as to prevent their
flight; and what inclined him still more to wait for daylight, was
the consideration that his troops were much better than the enemy's.
However, the oldest of his officers entreated him to proceed immediately
to the attack, and at last prevailed. It was not indeed very dark; for
the moon, though near her setting, gave light enough to distinguish
objects. But it was a great disadvantage to the king's troops, that the
moon was so low, and on the backs of the Romans; because she projected
their shadows so far before them, that the enemy could form no just
estimate of the distances, but thinking them at hand, threw their
javelins before they could do the least execution.
The Romans, perceiving their mistake, advanced to the charge with all
the alarm of voices. The enemy were in such a consternation, that they
made not the least stand, and, in their flight, vast numbers were
slain. They lost above 10,000 men, and their camp was taken. As for
Mithridates, he broke through the Romans with 800 horses, in the
beginning of the engagement. That corps, however, did not follow him far
before they dispersed, and left him with only three of his people.
The pursuit of Mithridates was attended with great difficulties; for he
concealed himself among the nations settled about the Bosphorus and the
Palus Maeotis. Besides, news was brought to Pompey that the Albanians
had revolted, and taken up arms again. The desire of revenge determined
him to march back, and chastise them. But it was with infinite trouble
and danger that he passed the Cyrnus again, the barbarians having fenced
it on their side with palisades all along the banks. And when he was
over, he had a large country to traverse, which afforded no water.
This last difficulty he provided against by filling 10,000 bottles;
and pursuing his march, he found the enemy drawn up on the banks of the
river Abas, to the number of 60,000 foot and 12,000 horse, but many
of them ill-armed, and provided with nothing of the defensive kind but
skins of beasts.
They were commanded by the king's brother, named Cosis; who, at the
beginning of the battle, singled out Pompey, and rushing in upon him,
struck his javelin into the joints of his breastplate. Pompey in return
run him through with his spear, and laid him dead on the spot. It is
said that the Amazons came to the assistance of the barbarians from
the mountains near the river Thermodon, and fought in this battle. The
Romans, among the plunder of the field, did, indeed, meet with bucklers
in the form of a half-moon, and such buskins as the Amazons wore; but
there was not the body of a woman found among the dead. They inhabit
that part of Mount Caucasus which stretches toward the Hyrcanian Sea,
and are not next neighbors to the Albanians; for Gelae and Leges lie
between; but they meet that people, and spend two months with them every
year on the banks of the Thermodon; after which they retire to their own
country.
Pompey had advanced near to Petra, and encamped, and was taking some
exercise on horseback without the trenches, when messengers arrived from
Pontus; and it was plain they brought good news, because the points
of their spears were crowned with laurel. The soldiers seeing this,
gathered about Pompey, who was inclined to finish his exercise before
he opened the packet; but they were so earnest in their entreaties, that
they prevailed upon him to alight and take it. He entered the camp with
it in his hand; and as there was no tribunal ready, and the soldiers
were too impatient to raise one of turf, which the common method, they
piled a number of pack-saddles one upon the other, upon which Pompey
mounted, and gave them this information: "Mithridates is dead. He killed
himself upon the revolt of his son Pharnaces. And Pharnaces has seized
all that belonged to his father; which he declares he has done for
himself and Romans."
At this news the army, as might be expected, gave a loose rein to their
joy, which they expressed in sacrifices to the gods, and in reciprocal
entertainments, as if 10,000 of their enemies had been slain in
Mithridates. Pompey having thus brought the campaign and the whole
war to a conclusion so happy, and so far beyond his hopes, immediately
quitted Arabia, traverses the provinces between that and Galatia with
great rapidity, and soon arrived at Amisus. There he found many presents
from Pharnaces, and several corpses of the royal family, among which was
that of Mithridates. As for Pompey, he would not see the body, but to
propitiate the avenging Nemesis, sent it to Sinope. However, he looked
upon and admired the magnificence of his habit, and the size and beauty
of his arms. The scabbard of his sword cost four hundred talents, and
the diadem was of most exquisite workmanship.
Pompey having thoroughly settled the affairs of Asia, hoped to return to
Italy the greatest and happiest of men.
People talked variously at Rome concerning his intentions. Many
disturbed themselves at the thought that he would march with his army
immediately to Rome and make himself sole and absolute master there.
Crassus took his children and money, and withdrew; whether it was that
he had some real apprehensions, or rather that he chose to countenance
the calumny, and add force to the sting of envy; the latter seems the
more probable. But Pompey had no sooner set foot in Italy, than he
called an assembly of his soldiers, and, after a kind and suitable
address, ordered them to disperse in their respective cities, and attend
to their own affairs till his triumph, on which occasion they were to
repair to him again.
Pompey's triumph was so great, that though it was divided into two days,
the time was far from being sufficient for displaying what was prepared
to be carried in procession; there remained still enough to adorn
another triumph. At the head of the show appeared the titles of the
conquered nations: Pontus, Armenia, Cappadocia, Paphlagonia, Media,
Colchis, the Iberians, the Albanians, Syria, Cilicia, Mesopotamia,
Phoenicia, Palestine, Judaea, Arabia, the pirates subdued both by sea
and land. In these countries, it was mentioned that there were not less
than 1,000 castles and 900 cities captured, 800 galleys taken from the
pirates, and 39 desolate cities repeopled. On the face of the tablets it
appeared besides, that whereas the revenues of the Roman empire
before these conquests amounted but to 50,000,000 drachmas, by the
new acquisitions they were advanced to 85,000,000; and that Pompey
had brought into the public treasury in money, and in gold and silver
vessels, the value of 20,000 talents; besides what he had distributed
among the soldiers, of whom he that received least had 1,500 drachmas
to his share. The captives who walked in the procession (not the mention
the chiefs of the pirates) were the son of Tigranes, king of Armenia,
together with his wife and daughter; Zosima, the wife of Tigranes
himself; Aristobulus, king of Judaea; the sister of Mithridates, with
her five sons, and some Scythian women. The hostages of the Albanians
and Iberians, and of the king of Commagene also appeared in the train;
and as many trophies were exhibited as Pompey had gained victories,
either in person or by his lieutenants, the number of which was not
small.
But the most honorable circumstance, and what no other Roman could
boast, was that his third triumph was over the third quarter of the
world, after his former triumphs had been over the other two. Others
before him had been honored with three triumphs; but his first triumph
was over Africa, his second over Europe, and his third over Asia; so
that the three seemed to declare him conqueror of the world.
Those who desire to make the parallel between him and Alexander agree
in all respects, tell us he was at this time not quite thirty-four,
whereas, in fact, he was entering upon his fortieth year. (It should be
the forty-sixth year. Pompey was born in the beginning of the month of
August, in the year of Rome 647, and his triumph was in the same month
in the year of Rome 692.) Happy it had been for him, if he had ended his
days while he was blessed with Alexander's good fortune! The rest of
his life, every instance of success brought its proportion of envy, and
every misfortune was irretrievable.
In the meantime the wars in Gaul lifted Caesar to the first sphere of
greatness. The scene of action was at a great distance from Rome, and he
seemed to be wholly engaged with the Belgae, the Suevi, and the Britons;
but his genius all the while was privately at work among the people of
Rome, and he was undermining Pompey in his most essential interests. His
war with the barbarians was not his principal object. He exercised his
army, indeed, in those expeditions, as he would have done his own body,
in hunting and other diversions of the field, by which he prepared
them for higher conflicts, and rendered them not only formidable but
invincible.
The gold and silver, and other rich spoils which he took from the enemy
in great abundance, he sent to Rome; and by distributing them freely
among the aediles, praetors, consuls, and their wives, he gained a great
party. Consequently when he passed the Alps and wintered at Lucca, among
the crowd of men and women, who hastened to pay their respects to him,
there were two hundred senators, Pompey and Crassus of the number; and
there were no fewer than one hundred and twenty proconsuls and praetors,
whose faces were to be seen at the gates of Caesar. He made it his
business in general to give them hopes of great things, and his money
was at their devotion; but he entered into a treaty with Crassus
and Pompey, by which it was agreed that they should apply for the
consulship, and that Caesar should assist them, by sending a great
number of his soldiers to vote at the election. As soon as they were
chosen, they were to share the provinces, and take the command of
armies, according to their pleasure, only confirming Caesar in the
possession of what he had for five years more.
Crassus, upon the expiration of his consulship, repaired to his
province. Pompey remaining at Rome, opened his theatre; and to make the
dedication more magnificent, exhibited a variety of gymnastic games,
entertainments of music, and battles with wild beasts, in which
were killed 500 lions; but the battle of elephants afforded the most
astonishing spectacle. (Dio says the elephants fought with armed men.
There were no less than eighteen of them; and he adds, that some of them
seemed to appeal, with piteous cries to the people; who, in compassion,
saved their lives. If we may believe him, an oath had been taken before
they left Africa, that no injury should be done them.) These things
gained him the love and admiration of the public; but he incurred their
displeasure again, by leaving his provinces and armies entirely to his
friends and lieutenants, and roving about Italy with his wife from
one villa to another. The strong attachment of Julia appeared on the
occasion of an election of aediles. The people came to blows, and some
were killed so near Pompey that he was covered with blood, and forced to
change his clothes. There was a great crowd and tumult about his door,
when his servants went home with a bloody robe; and Julia, happening
to see it, fainted away and was with difficulty restored. Shortly after
Julia died, and the alliance which had rather covered than restrained
the ambition of the two great competitors for power was now no more.
To add to the misfortune, news was brought soon after that Crassus was
slain by the Parthians; and in him another great obstacle to a civil war
was removed. Out of fear of him, they had both kept some measures with
each other. But when fortune had carried off the champion who could take
up the conqueror, we may say with the comic poet--
High spirits of emprise
Elates each chief; they oil their brawny limbs,
and dip their hands in dust.
So little able is fortune to fill the capacities of the human mind; when
such a weight of power, and extent of command, could not satisfy the
ambition of two men. They had heard and read that the gods had divided
the universe into three shares,
(Plutarch alludes here to a passage in the fifteenth book of the Iliad,
where Neptune says to Iris--
Assign'd by lot our triple rule we know;
Infernal Pluto sways the shades below;
O'er the wide clouds, and o'er the starry plain,
Ethereal Jove extends his high domain;
My court beneath the hoary waves I keep,
And hush the roarings of the sacred deep.)
and each was content with that which fell to his lot, and yet these
men could not think the Roman empire sufficient for two of them. Such
anarchy and confusion took place that numbers began to talk boldly of
setting up a dictator. Cato, now fearing he should be overborne, was of
opinion that it were better to give Pompey some office whose authority
was limited by law, than to intrust him with absolute power. Bibulus,
though Pompey's declared enemy, moved in full senate, that he should be
appointed sole consul. "For by that means," said he, "the commonwealth
will either recover from her disorder, or, if she must serve, will
serve a man of the greatest merit." The whole house was surprised at
the motion; and when Cato rose up, it was expected he would oppose it.
A profound silence ensued, and he said, he should never have been the
first to propose such an expedient, but as it was proposed by another,
he thought it advisable to embrace it; for he thought any kind of
government better than anarchy, and knew no man fitter to rule than
Pompey, in a time of so much trouble. The senate came into his opinion,
and a decree was issued, that Pompey should be appointed sole consul,
and that if he should have need of a colleague, he might choose one
himself, provided it were not before the expiration of two months.
Pompey being declared sole consul by the Interrex Sulpitius, made his
compliments to Cato, acknowledged himself much indebted to his support,
and desired his advice and assistance in the cabinet, as to the measures
to be pursued in his administration. Cato made answer, that Pompey was
not under the least obligation to him; for what he had said was not out
of regard to him, but to his country. "If you apply to me," continued
he, "I shall give you my advice in private; if not, I shall inform
you of my sentiments in public." Such was Cato, and the same on all
occasions.
Pompey then went into the city, and married Cornelia, the daughter of
Metellus Scipio. She was a widow, having been married, when very young,
to Publius the son of Crassus, who was lately killed in the Parthian
expedition. This woman had many charms beside her beauty. She was well
versed in polite literature; she played upon the lyre, and understood
geometry; and she had made considerable improvements by the precepts
of philosophy. What is more, she had nothing of that petulance and
affectation which such studies are apt to produce in women of her age.
And her father's family and reputation were unexceptionable.
Pompey's confidence made him so extremely negligent, that he laughed at
those who seemed to fear the war. And when they said if Caesar should
advance in a hostile manner to Rome, they did not see what forces they
had to oppose him, he bade them, with an open and smiling countenance,
give themselves no pain: "For, if in Italy," said he, "I do but stamp
upon the ground, an army will appear."
Meantime Caesar was exerting himself greatly. He was now at no great
distance from Italy, and not only sent his soldiers to vote in the
elections, but by private pecuniary applications, corrupted many of
the magistrates. Paulus the consul was of the number, and he had one
thousand five hundred talents for changing sides. So also was Curio, one
of the tribunes of the people, for whom he paid off an immense debt, and
Mark Antony, who, out of friendship for Curio, had stood engaged with
him for the debt.
It is said, that when one of Caesar's officers, who stood before the
senate-house, waiting the issue of the debates, was informed that they
would not give Caesar a longer term in his command, he laid his hand
on his sword, and said, "But this shall give it." Indeed, all the
preparations of his general tended that way; though Curio's demands in
behalf of Caesar seemed more plausible. He proposed, that either Pompey
should likewise be obliged to dismiss his forces, or Caesar suffered
to keep his. "If they are both reduced to a private station," said
he, "they will agree upon reasonable terms; or, if each retains his
respective power, they will be satisfied. But he who weakens the one,
without doing the same by the other, must double that force which he
fears will subvert the government."
But now news was brought that Caesar was marching directly towards Rome
with all his forces. The last circumstance, indeed, was not true. He
advanced with only three hundred horse and five thousand foot; the rest
of his forces were on the other side of the Alps, and he would not
wait for them, choosing rather to put his adversaries in confusion by a
sudden and unexpected attack, than to fight them when better prepared.
When he came to the river Rubicon, which was the boundary of his
province, he stood silent a long time, weighing with himself the
greatness of his enterprise. At last, like one who plunges down from the
top of a precipice into a gulf of immense depth, he silenced his reason,
and shut his eyes against the danger; and crying out in the Greek
language, "The die is cast," he marched over with his army.
Upon the first report of this at Rome, the city was in greater disorder
and astonishment than had ever been known.
All Italy was in motion, with the stir of the coming storm. Those who
lived out of Rome fled to it from all quarters, and those who lived
in it abandoned it as fast. These saw, that in such a tempestuous and
disorderly state of affairs, the well disposed part of the city wanted
strength, and that the ill disposed were so refractory that they could
not be managed by the magistrates. The terrors of the people could not
be removed, and no one would suffer Pompey to lay a plan of action for
himself. According to the passion wherewith each was actuated, whether
fear, sorrow, or doubt, they endeavored to inspire him with the same;
insomuch that he adopted different measures the same day. He could
gain no certain intelligence of the enemy's motions, because every man
brought him the report he happened to take up, and was angry if it did
not meet with credit.
Pompey at last caused it to be declared by a formal edict, that the
commonwealth was in danger, and no peace was to be expected. After
which, he signified that he should look upon those who remained in the
city as the partisans of Caesar; and then quitted it in the dusk of the
evening. The consuls also fled, without offering the sacrifices which
their customs required before a war. However, in this great extremity,
Pompey could not but be considered as happy in the affections of his
countrymen. Though many blamed the war, there was not a man who
hated the general. Nay, the number of those who followed him, out of
attachment to his person, was greater than that of the adventurers in
the cause of liberty.
A few days after, Caesar arrived at Rome. When he was in possession
of the city, he behaved with great moderation in many respects, and
composed in a good measure the minds of its remaining inhabitants.
Pompey, who was the master of Brundusium, and had a sufficient number of
transports, desired the consuls to embark without loss of time, and sent
them before him with thirty cohorts to Dyrrhachium. But at the same
time he sent his father-in-law Scipio and his son Cnaeus into Syria,
to provide ships of war. He had well secured the gates of the city, and
planted the lightest of his slingers and archers upon the walls; and
having now ordered the Brundusians to keep within doors, he caused a
number of trenches to be cut, and sharp stakes to be driven into them,
and then covered with earth, in all the streets, except two which
led down to the sea. In three days all his other troops were embarked
without interruption; and then he suddenly gave the signal to those who
guarded the walls; in consequence of which, they ran swiftly down to the
harbor, and got on board. Thus having his whole complement, he set sail,
and crossed the sea to Dyrrhachium.
When Caesar came and saw the walls left destitute of defence, he
concluded that Pompey had taken to flight, and in his eagerness to
pursue, would certainly have fallen upon the sharp stakes in the
trenches, had not the Brundusians informed him of them. He then avoided
the streets, and took a circuit round the town, by which he discovered
that all the vessels had weighed anchor, except two that had not many
soldiers aboard.
This manoeuvre of Pompey was commonly reckoned among the greatest act
of generalship. Caesar, however, could not help wondering, that his
adversary, who was in possession of a fortified town, and expected his
forces from Spain, and at the same time was master of them, should give
up Italy in such a manner.
Caesar thus made himself master of all Italy in sixty days without the
least bloodshed, and he would have been glad to have gone immediately
in pursuit of Pompey. But as he was in want of shipping, he gave up that
design for the present, and marched to Spain, with an intent to gain
Pompey's forces there.
In the meantime Pompey assembled a great army; and at sea he was
altogether invincible. For he had five hundred ships of war, and the
number of his lighter vessels was still greater. As for his land forces,
he had seven thousand horse, the flower of Rome and Italy, all men
of family, fortune, and courage. His infantry, though numerous, was
a mixture of raw, undisciplined soldiers; he therefore exercised them
during his stay at Beroea, where he was by no means idle, but went
through the exercises of a soldier, as if he had been in the flower of
his age. It inspired his troops with new courage, when they saw Pompey
the Great, at the age of fifty-eight, going through the whole military
discipline, in heavy armor, on foot; and then mounting his horse,
drawing his sword with ease when at full speed, and as dexterously
sheathing it again. As to the javelin, he threw it not only with great
exactness, but with such force that few of the young men could dart it
to a greater distance.
Many kings and princes repaired to his camp; and the number of Roman
officers who had commanded armies was so great, that it was sufficient
to make up a complete senate. Labienus, who had been honored with
Caesar's friendship, and served under him in Gaul, now joined Pompey.
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.
Ptolemy was very young, fourteen years of age, and Photinus, his prime
minister, called a council of his ablest officers; though their advice
had no more weight than he was pleased to allow it. He ordered each,
however, to give his opinion. But who can, without indignation, consider
that the fate of Pompey the Great was to be determined by the wretch
Photinus, by Theodotus, a man of Chios, who was hired to teach the
prince rhetoric, and by Achillas, an Egyptian? For among the king's
chamberlains and tutors these had the greatest influence over him
and were the persons he most consulted. Pompey lay at anchor at some
distance from the place waiting the determination of this respectable
board; while he thought it beneath him to be indebted to Caesar for his
safety. The council were divided in their opinions, some advising the
prince to give him an honorable reception, and others to send him an
order to depart. But Theodotus, to display his eloquence, insisted that
both were wrong. "If you receive him," said he, "you will have Caesar
for your enemy, and Pompey for your master. If you order him off, Pompey
may one day revenge the affront and Caesar resent your not having put
him in his hands: the best method, therefore, is to send for him and put
him to death. By this means you will do Caesar a favor, and have nothing
to fear from Pompey." He added with a smile, "Dead men do not bite."
This advice being approved of, the execution of it was committed to
Achillas. In consequence of which he took with him Septimius, who had
formerly been one of Pompey's officers, and Salvius, who had also acted
under him as a centurion, with three or four assistants, and made up to
Pompey's ship, where his principal friends and officers had assembled
to see how the affair went on. When they perceived there was nothing
magnificent in their reception, nor suitable to the hopes which
Theophanes had conceived, but that a few men only in a fishing-boat
came to wait upon them, such want of respect appeared a suspicious
circumstance, and they advised Pompey, while he was out of the reach of
missive weapons, to get out to the main sea.
Meantime, the boat approaching, Septimius spoke first, addressing Pompey
in Latin by the title of Imperator. Then Achillas saluted him in Greek,
and desired him to come into the boat, because the water was very
shallow towards the shore, and a galley must strike upon the sands. At
the same time they saw several of the king's ships getting ready, and
the shore covered with troops, so that if they would have changed their
minds it was then too late; besides, their distrust would have furnished
the assassins with a pretence for their injustice. He therefore embraced
Cornelia, who lamented his sad exit before it happened; and ordered two
centurions, one of his enfranchised slaves, named Philip, and a servant
called Scenes, to get into the boat before him. When Achillas had hold
of his hand, and he was going to step in himself, he turned to his wife
and son, and repeated that verse of Sophocles--
Seek'st thou a tyrant's door?
Then farewell freedom!
Though FREE as air before.
These were the last words he spoke to them.
As there was a considerable distance between the galley and the
shore, and he observed that not a man in the boat showed him the least
civility, or even spoke to him, he looked at Septimius, and said,
"Methinks, I remember you to have been my fellow-soldier;" but he
answered only with a nod, without testifying any regard or friendship.
A profound silence again taking place, Pompey took out a paper, in which
he had written a speech in Greek that he designed to make to Ptolemy,
and amused himself with reading it.
When they approached the shore, Cornelia, with her friends in the
galley, watched the event with great anxiety. She was a little
encouraged, when she saw a number of the king's great officers coming
down to the strand, in all appearance to receive her husband and do him
honor. But the moment Pompey was taking hold of Philip's hand, to raise
him with more ease, Septimius came behind, and ran him through the body;
after which Salvius and Achillas also drew their swords. Pompey took his
robe in both hands and covered his face, and without saying or doing
the least thing unworthy of him, submitted to his fate, only uttering
a groan, while they despatched him with many blows. He was then just
fifty-nine years old, for he was killed the day after his birthday.
Cornelia, and her friends in the galley, upon seeing him murdered, gave
a shriek that was heard to the shore, and weighed anchor immediately.
Their flight was assisted by a brisk gale, as they got out more to
sea; so that the Egyptians gave up their design of pursuing them. The
murderers having cut off Pompey's head, threw the body out of the boat
naked, and left it exposed to all who were desirous of such a sight.
Philip stayed till their curiosity was satisfied, and then washed the
body with sea-water, and wrapped it in one of his own garments, because
he had nothing else at hand. The next thing was to look out for wood for
the funeral pile; and casting his eyes over the shore, he spied the
old remains of a fishing-boat; which, though not large, would make a
sufficient pile for a poor naked body that was not quite entire.
While he was collecting the pieces of plank and putting them together,
an old Roman, who had made some of his first campaigns under Pompey,
came up and said to Philip, "Who are you that are preparing the funeral
of Pompey the Great?" Philip answered, "I am his freedman." "But you
shall not," said the old Roman, "have this honor entirely to yourself.
As a work of piety offers itself, let me have a share in it; that I
may not absolutely repent my having passed so many years in a foreign
country; but, to compensate many misfortunes, may have the consolation
of doing some of the last honors to the greatest general Rome ever
produced." In this manner was the funeral of Pompey conducted.
Such was the end of Pompey the Great. As for Caesar, he arrived not
long after in Egypt, which he found in great disorder. When they came to
present the head, he turned from it, and the person that brought it,
as a sight of horror. He received the seal, but it was with tears.
The device was a lion holding a sword. The two assassins, Achillas
and Photinus, he put to death; and the king, being defeated in battle,
perished in the river. Theodotus, the rhetorician, escaped the vengeance
of Caesar, by leaving Egypt; but he wandered about a miserable fugitive,
and was hated wherever he went. At last, Marcus Brutus, who killed
Caesar, found the wretch, in his province of Asia, and put him to death,
after having made him suffer the most exquisite tortures. The ashes of
Pompey were carried to Cornelia, who buried them in his lands near Alba.
(Langhorne has well remarked that Pompey has, in all appearance, and
in all consideration of his character, had less justice done him by
historians than any other man of his time. His popular humanity,
his military and political skills, his prudence (which he sometimes
unfortunately gave up), his natural bravery and generosity, his conjugal
virtues, which (though sometimes impeached) were both naturally
and morally great; his cause, which was certainly, in its original
interests, the cause of Rome; all these circumstances entitled him to
a more distinguished and more respectable character than any of his
historians have thought proper to afford him.)