Plutarch's Lives, Volume 3 · Plutarch
LIFE OF POMPEIUS.
LXVIII. However, by importunity and agitation, after the army had descended into the plain of Pharsalus,[366] they compelled Pompeius to hold a council of war, in which Labienus, who was commander of the cavalry, got up first, and swore that he would not leave the battle till he had routed the enemy; and they all swore to the same effect. In the night Pompeius dreamed that as he was entering the theatre, the people clapped, and that he was decorating a temple of Venus the Victorious[367] with many spoils. And in some respects he was encouraged, but in others rather depressed by the dream, lest fame and glory should accrue from him to the race of Cæsar, which traced its descent from Venus; and certain panic alarms which were rushing through the camp aroused him. In the morning-watch a bright light[368] shone forth above the camp of Cæsar, which was in a state of profound tranquillity, and a flame-like torch springing from this light descended upon the camp of Pompeius; and Cæsar himself says that he witnessed this as he was visiting the watches. At daybreak, as Cæsar was going to move to Scotussa,[369] and the soldiers were engaged in taking down the tents and sending forward the beasts and camp-followers, the scouts came with intelligence that they spied many arms in the enemy's encampment moving backwards and forwards, and that there was a movement and noise as of men coming out to battle. After them others came announcing that the vanguard was already putting itself in battle order. Upon this, Cæsar observing that the expected day had arrived on which they would have to fight against men, and not against hunger and poverty, quickly gave orders to hang out in front of his tent the purple colours,[370] which is the signal for battle among the Romans. The soldiers at the sight of it left their tents with loud shouts and rejoicing and hurried to arms; as the centurions led them to their several ranks, every man, just as if he belonged to a chorus, without confusion, being well trained, quietly took his place.
LXIX. Pompeius commanded the right wing, intending to oppose Antonius; in the centre he placed his father-in-law Scipio against Calvinus Lucius;[371] and the left was commanded by Lucius Domitius, and strengthened with the main body of the cavalry. For nearly all the horsemen had crowded to that point, with the design of overpowering Cæsar and cutting to pieces the tenth legion, which had a very great reputation for courage, and Cæsar was accustomed to take his station in this legion when he fought a battle. But Cæsar, observing that the enemy's left wing was strengthened by so large a body of cavalry, and fearing their brilliant equipment, summoned six cohorts from the reserve, and placed them in the rear of the tenth legion, with orders to keep quiet and not let the enemy see them; but as soon as the cavalry advanced, they had orders to run forwards through the first ranks, and not to throw their javelins, as the bravest soldiers are used to do in their eagerness to get to fighting with the sword, but to push upwards and to wound the eyes and faces of the enemy, for those handsome, blooming pyrrichists would not keep their ground for fear of their beauty being spoiled, nor would they venture to look at the iron that was pushed right into their faces. Now Cæsar was thus employed.
But Pompeius, who was examining the order of battle from his horse, observing that the enemy were quietly awaiting in their ranks the moment of attack, and the greater part of his own army was not still, but was in wavelike motion through want of experience and in confusion, was alarmed lest his troops should be completely separated at the beginning of the battle, and he commanded the front ranks to stand with their spears presented, and keeping their ground in compact order to receive the enemy's attack. But Cæsar finds fault[372] with this generalship of Pompeius; for he says that he thus weakened the force of the blows which a rapid assault produces; and the rush to meet the advancing ranks, which more than anything else fills the mass of the soldiers with enthusiasm and impetuosity in closing with the enemy, and combined with the shouts and running increases the courage--Pompeius, by depriving his men of this, fixed them to the ground and damped them. On Cæsar's side the numbers were twenty-two thousand; on the side of Pompeius the numbers[373] were somewhat more than double.
LXX.[374] And now, when the signal was given on both sides, and the trumpet was beginning to urge them on to the conflict, every man of this great mass was busy in looking after himself; but a few of the Romans, the best, and some Greeks who were present, and not engaged in the battle, as the conflict drew near, began to reflect to what a condition ambition and rivalry had brought the Roman State. For kindred arms and brotherly battalions and common standards,[375] and the manhood and the might of a single state in such numbers, were closing in battle, self-matched against self, an example of the blindness of human nature and its madness, under the influence of passion. For if they had now been satisfied quietly to govern and enjoy what they had got, there was the largest and the best portion of the earth and of the sea subject to them; and if they still wished to gratify their love of trophies and of triumphs, and their thirst for them, they might have their fill of Parthian or German wars. Scythia, too, and the Indians were a labour in reserve, and ambition had a reasonable pretext for such undertaking, the civilization of barbaric nations. And what Scythian horse, or Parthian arrows, or Indian wealth could have checked seventy thousand Romans advancing in arms under Pompeius and Cæsar, whose name these nations heard of long before they heard of the name of Rome? Such unsociable, and various, and savage nations had they invaded and conquered. But now they engaged with one another in battle, without even feeling any compunction about their own glory, for which they spared not their native country, up to this day having always borne the name of invincible. For the relationship that had been made between them, and the charms of Julia, and that marriage, were from the very first only deceitful and suspected pledges of an alliance formed from interested motives, in which there was not a particle of true friendship.
LXXI. Now when the plain of Pharsalus was filled with men and horses and arms, and the signal for battle was raised on both sides, the first to spring forward from the line of Cæsar was Caius Crassianus[376] a centurion who had the command of one hundred and twenty men, and was now fulfilling a great promise to Cæsar. For as Cæsar observed him to be the first that was quitting the camp, he spoke to him and asked what he thought of the battle; and Crassianus stretching out his right hand replied with a loud voice, "You shall have a splendid victory, Cæsar; and as to me, you shall praise me whether I survive the day or die." Remembering what he had said, he rushed forward and carrying many along with him fell on the centre of the enemy. The struggle was forthwith with the sword and many fell; but while Crassianus was pushing forwards and cutting down those who were in the front ranks, a soldier made a stand against him and drove his sword through his mouth so that the point came out at the back of the neck. When Crassianus had fallen, the battle was equally contested in this part of the field.
Now Pompeius did not quickly lead on the right wing, but was looking at the opposite wing and lost time in waiting for the cavalry to get into action. The cavalry were now extending their companies with the view of surrounding Cæsar, and they drove Cæsar's cavalry who were few in number upon the line in front of which they were stationed. But upon Cæsar giving the signal, the cavalry retired, and the cohorts which had been reserved to meet the enemy's attempt to outflank them, rushed forward, three thousand in number, and met the enemy; then fixing themselves by the side of the horsemen, they pushed their spears upwards, as they had been instructed, against the horses, aiming at the faces of the riders. The horsemen, who were altogether inexperienced in fighting, and had never expected or heard of such a mode of attack, did not venture to stand or endure the blows aimed at their eyes and mouths, but turning their backs and holding their hands before their faces they ingloriously took to flight. The soldiers of Cæsar leaving these fugitives to escape advanced against the infantry, and they made their attack at that point where the wing having lost the protection of the cavalry gave them the opportunity of outflanking and surrounding them. These men falling on the enemy in the flank and the tenth legion attacking them in front, the enemy did not stand their ground nor keep together, for they saw that while they were expecting to surround the enemy, they were themselves surrounded.
LXXII. After the infantry were routed, and Pompeius seeing the dust conjectured what had befallen the cavalry, what reflections passed in his mind, it is difficult to say; but like a madman more than anything else and one whose reason was affected, without considering that he was Magnus Pompeius, without speaking a word to any one, he walked slowly back to his camp, so that one may properly apply to him the verses[377] "But lofty father Zeus struck fear in Ajax; He stood confounded, and behind him threw His shield of seven-ox-hide, and trembling look'd Towards the crowd." In this state Pompeius came to his tent and sat down without speaking, until many of the pursuers rushed into the camp with the fugitives; and then merely uttering these words, "What, even to the camp!" and nothing more, he rose and taking a dress suitable to his present condition made his way out. The rest of the legions also fled, and there was great slaughter in the camp of those who were left to guard the tents and of the slaves; but Asinius Pollio[378] says that only six thousand soldiers fell, and Pollio fought in that battle on Cæsar's side. When Cæsar's men took the camp, they saw evidence of the folly and frivolity of the enemy. For every tent was crowned with myrtle and furnished with flowered coverings to the couches and tables loaded with cups; and bowls of wine were laid out, and there was the preparation and decoration of persons who had performed a sacrifice and were celebrating a festival,[379] rather than of men who were arming for battle. So blinded by their hopes, and so full of foolish confidence did they come out to war.
LXXIII. Pompeius having proceeded a little way from the camp let his horse go, and with very few persons about him, went on slowly as no one pursued him, and with such thoughts, as would naturally arise in the mind of a man who for four-and-thirty years had been accustomed to conquer and to have the mastery in everything, and now for the first time in his old age experienced what defeat and flight were; reflecting also that in a single battle he had lost the reputation and the power which were the fruit of so many struggles and wars, and while a little before he was protected by so many armed men and horses, and armaments, now he was retreating and had become so weak and humbled, as easily to escape the notice of his enemies who were looking for him. After passing Larissa[380] and arriving at Tempe, being thirsty he threw himself down on his face and drank of the river, and then rising up he proceeded through Tempe till he reached the sea.
There he rested for the remainder of the night in a fisherman's hut, and at daybreak embarking on board of one of the river-boats and taking with him those of his followers who were freemen, and bidding his slaves go to Cæsar without any apprehension for their safety, he rowed along the coast till he saw a large merchant-ship preparing to set sail, the master of which was a Roman, who had no intimacy with Pompeius, but knew him by sight: his name was Peticius. It happened the night before that Peticius saw Pompeius in a dream, not as he had often seen him, but humble and downcast, speaking to him. And it happened that he was telling his dream to his shipmates, as is usual with men in such weighty matters, who have nothing to do; when all at once one of the sailors called out that he spied a river-boat rowing from the land with men in it who were making signals with their clothes and stretching out their hands to them.
Accordingly Peticius turning his eyes in that direction recognised Pompeius just as he had seen him in the dream, and striking his forehead he ordered the sailors to put the boat alongside, and he stretched out his right hand and called to Pompeius, already conjecturing from his appearance the fortune and the reverses of the man. Upon which the master, without waiting to be entreated or addressed, took on board with him, all whom Pompeius chose (and these were the two Lentuli[381] and Favonius), and set sail; and shortly after seeing King Deiotarus making his way from the land as fast as he could they took him in also. When it was supper time and the master had made the best preparation that he could, Favonius observing that Pompeius had no domestics and was beginning to take off his shoes, ran up to him and loosed his shoes and helped him to anoint himself. And henceforward Favonius continued to wait on Pompeius and serve him, just as slaves do their master, even to the washing of his feet and preparing his meals, so that a witness of the free will of that service and the simplicity and absence of all affectation might have exclaimed "To generous minds how noble every task."[382]
LXXIV. In such wise Pompeius coasted to Amphipolis,[383] and thence crossed over to Mitylene, wishing to take up Cornelia and her son. Upon reaching the shore of the island he sent a message to the city, not such as Cornelia expected, for the pleasing intelligence that she had received both by report and by letter led her to hope that the war was terminated near Dyrrachium, and that all that remained for Pompeius was to pursue Cæsar. The messenger, who found her in this state of expectation, did not venture to salute her, but indicating by tears more than words the chief and greatest of her misfortunes, he bade her hasten, if she wished to see Pompeius in a single vessel and that not his own. Cornelia, on hearing these words, threw herself on the ground, and lay there a long time without sense or speech, and with difficulty recovering herself, and seeing that it was not a time for tears and lamentations, she ran through the city to the sea. Pompeius met and caught her in his arms as she was just ready to sink down and fall upon him, when Cornelia said, "I see you, husband, not through your own fortune but mine, reduced to a single vessel, you who before your marriage with Cornelia sailed along this sea with five hundred ships. Why have you come to see me, and why did you not leave to her evil dæmon one who has loaded you also with so much misfortune? How happy a woman should I have been had I died before I heard that Publius, whose virgin bride I was, had perished by the Parthians; and how wise, if even after he died I had put an end to my own life, as I attempted to do; but forsooth I have been kept alive to be the ruin of Pompeius Magnus also."
LXXV. So it is said Cornelia spoke, and thus Pompeius replied: "It is true, Cornelia, you have hitherto known only one fortune, and that the better; and perhaps it has deceived you too, in that it has abided with me longer than is wont. But as we are mortals, we must bear this change, and still try fortune; for it is not hopeless for a man to attempt from this condition to recover his former state who has come to this after being in that other." Accordingly Cornelia sent for her property and slaves from the city; and though the Mitylenæans came to pay their respects to Pompeius, and invited him to enter the city, he would not, but he exhorted them also to yield to the conqueror and to be of good heart, for Cæsar was merciful and of a humane disposition. But turning to Kratippus[384] the philosopher, for he had come down from the city to see him, Pompeius found fault with and in a few words expressed some doubts about Providence, Kratippus rather giving way to him and trying to lead him to better hopes, that he might not give him pain at so unseasonable a time by arguing against him; for Pompeius might have questioned him about Providence, and Kratippus might have shown that the state of affairs at Rome required a monarchy on account of the political disorder; and he might have asked Pompeius, "How, Pompeius, and by what evidence shall we be persuaded that you would have used your fortune better than Cæsar, if you had been victorious?" But these matters that concern the gods we must leave as they are.
LXXVI. Taking on board his wife and friends, Pompeius continued his voyage, only putting in at such ports as of necessity he must for water or provisions. The first city that he came to was Attaleia[385] of Pamphylia; and there some galleys from Cilicia met him, and some soldiers were collecting, and there were again about sixty senators about him. Hearing that his navy still kept together, and that Cato had recruited many soldiers and was passing over to Libya, he lamented to his friends and blamed himself for being forced to engage with his army only, and for not making any use of the force which was beyond all dispute superior to that of the enemy; and that his navy was not so stationed that if he were defeated by land he might forthwith have had what would have made him a match for the enemy, a strength and power so great by sea close at hand. Indeed Pompeius committed no greater fault, nor did Cæsar show any greater generalship, than in withdrawing the field of battle so far beyond the reach of assistance from the navy. However, being compelled in the present state of affairs to decide and do something, he sent round to the cities, and himself sailing about to some, asked them for money, and began to man ships. But fearing the rapid movements and speed of his enemy, lest he should come upon him and take him before he was prepared, he looked about for a place of refuge for the present and a retreat.
Now there appeared to them upon consideration to be no province to which they could safely fly; and as to the kingdoms, Pompeius gave it as his opinion that the Parthian[386] at the present was the best able to receive and protect them in their present weakness, and to strengthen them again and to send them forth with the largest force; of the rest, some turned their thoughts towards Libya and Juba,[387] but Theophanes of Lesbos pronounced it madness to leave Egypt, which was only three days' sail distant, and Ptolemæus,[388] who was still a youth, and indebted to Pompeius for the friendship and favour which his father had received from him, and to put himself in the hands of the Parthians, a most treacherous nation; and to be the first of all persons who did not choose to submit to a Roman who had been connected with him by marriage, nor to make trial of his moderation, and to put himself in the power of Arsakes,[389] who was not able to take even Crassus so long as he was alive; and to carry a young wife of the family of Scipio among barbarians, who measured their power by their insolence and unbridled temper; and if no harm should befall Cornelia, and it should only be apprehended that she might suffer injury, it would be a sad thing for her to be in the power of those who were able to do it.
This alone, it is said diverted Pompeius from proceeding to the Euphrates; if indeed any reflection still guided Pompeius, and he was not rather directed by a dæmon to the way that he took. LXXVII. Accordingly when the proposal to fly to Egypt prevailed, Pompeius setting sail from Cyprus in a galley of Seleukeia[390] with his wife (and of the rest some accompanied him also in ships of war, and others in merchant vessels), crossed the sea safely; and hearing that Ptolemæus[391] was seated before Pelusium with his army, being engaged in war against his sister, he came to that part of the coast and sent forward a person to announce his arrival to the king and to pray for his protection. Now Ptolemæus was very young, and Potheinus who managed everything, summoned a council of the chief persons; and the chief persons were those whom he chose to make so, and he bade each man give his opinion. It was indeed a sad thing that such men should deliberate about Pompeius Magnus, as Potheinus the eunuch and Theodotus of Chios who was hired as a teacher of rhetoric and the Egyptian Achillas: for these were the chief advisers of the king among the eunuchs and others who had the care of his person; and such was the court whose decision Pompeius was waiting for at anchor some distance from the shore and tossed by the waves, he who thought it beneath him to be indebted to Cæsar for his life. Now opinions among the rest were so far divided that some advised they should drive away Pompeius, and others, that they should invite and receive him: but Theodotus displaying his power in speech and his rhetorical art proved that neither of these courses was safe, but that if they received Pompeius, they would have Cæsar for an enemy and Pompeius for their master, and if they drove him away, they would incur the displeasure of Pompeius for ejecting him and of Cæsar for the trouble of the pursuit; it was therefore best to send for the man and kill him, for thus they would please Cæsar and have nothing to fear from Pompeius. And he concluded with a smile, as it is said, A dead man does not bite.
"Whoever to a tyrant bends his way, Is made his slave, e'en if he goes a freeman." LXXIX.[392] These were the last words that he spoke to his friends before he entered the boat: and as it was a considerable distance to the land from the galley, and none of those in the boat addressed any friendly conversation to him, looking at Septimius he said, "I am not mistaken I think in recognising you as an old comrade of mine;" and Septimius nodded without making any reply or friendly acknowledgment. As there was again a profound silence, Pompeius who had a small roll on which he had written a speech in Greek that he intended to address to Ptolemæus, began reading it. As they neared the land, Cornelia with her friends in great anxiety was watching the result from the galley, and she began to have good hopes when she saw some of the king's people collecting together at the landing as if to honor Pompeius and give him a reception. In the mean time, while Pompeius was taking the hand of Philippus that he might rise more easily, Septimius from behind was the first to transfix him with his sword; and Salvius, and after him Achillas drew their swords. Pompeius drawing his toga close with both hands over his face, without saying or doing anything unworthy of himself, but giving a groan only, submitted to the blows, being sixty years of age save one, and ending his life just one day after his birthday.
Text from Project Gutenberg, public domain in the United States.