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

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

When Cæsar approached the camp of Pompey, he found his army ready for combat, and drawn up in the following manner. In the left wing were the two legions delivered over by Cæsar at the beginning of the quarrel, in obedience to a decree of the senate. These were the first and third, and here Pompey (according to Cæsar) commanded in person. Plutarch says, in opposition to this, that Pompey placed himself in his right wing. It seems surprising that the account which Cæsar himself has left us should meet with contradiction on this essential point; but so it is, and we must compare the value of the authorities, as we cannot reconcile them. It appears unlikely that the general-in-chief, on whom all depended, should take post at a distance from the place where the decisive conflict was certainly indicated. Scipio, Pompey's father-in-law, commanded in the centre, with the legions he had brought out of Syria. The Cilician Legion, joined to the Spanish Cohorts, under the leading of Aframus, formed the right wing. These Pompey esteemed his best troops, distributing the less expert in separate cohorts between the wings and the main body. He had in all one hundred and ten cohorts, amounting to 45,000 men; besides two cohorts of volunteers, who had served under him in former wars, and who, out of affection to their old general, though their legal time of service had expired, flocked to his standard on this occasion, and were distributed amongst the whole army. His other seven cohorts were left to guard the camp and the adjoining forts. The

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

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

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

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

Sir

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

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

Cæsar, who never allowed an enemy time to recover when he had once accomplished his overthrow, instantly led his troops to the attack of the hos tile camp, which they carried after a sharp resistance. It came not within his maxims of war to make a bridge for a retreating foe, but rather to cripple his retreat altogether. On, from the storming of the camp, he continued the pursuit without a moment's delay, notwithstanding the fatigue and exhaustion of his men, until having cut off the supply of water from a position in which the relics of Pompey's army endeavoured to maintain themselves, he forced them to an unconditional surrender. Above all other leaders, Cæsar and Napoleon were distinguished by the lightning-like rapidity with which they followed up success. The Duke of Wellington, although in many points fully equal to either, was never so remarkable for this particular quality. Caution, with him, tempered ardour, and he moved with more calculating nicety, lest he should expose himself to a counterstroke. Not from want of enterprise or active daring, but more from political impediments and the peculiar nature of his station, as a responsible commander instead of being an absolute sovereign. Lucan, who cannot be accused of partiality, describes Cæsar, after success, as

“Nil actum reputans, si quid superesset agendum." He held the greatest advantages as nothing, if everything was not accomplished. Sir William Napier says—

"The battle of Wellington was the stroke of a battering ram; down went the wall in ruins. The battle of Napoleon was the swell and dash of a mighty wave, before which the barrier yielded, and the roaring flood poured onwards, covering all."— Hist. of Penins. War, vol. vi.

On entering the camp of Pompey, banqueting tables were found ready covered, sideboards loaded with gold and silver plate, costly hangings and furniture, tents adorned with branches of myrtle and ivy, and every preparation for a triumphal symposium. Whether the expectant victors intended to feast Cæsar and his captive generals, as President Madison proposed to honour

the British officers if he had beaten and taken them at Washington, neither general history nor private anecdote has yet discovered to posterity.*

At Pharsalia there fell on the side of Pompey 15,000 men, and 24,000 were made prisoners. There were also taken 180 standards and nine eagles. The army was, in fact, annihilated. Cæsar estimates his own loss at 200 private soldiers and 30 centurions, or captains of companies, all valiant and experienced officers. The disproportion seems incredible, but it frequently so happened in ancient warfare, where there was usually little manoeuvring, and matters were decided by hand to hand fighting, which left no cover or retreat whenever the opposing lines gave way or turned their backs. Cæsar recruited his own legions from the ranks of his prisoners, and, in the generous clemency of his disposition, pardoned many persons of rank and consequence taken in arms, and openly combating for his overthrow. have but few instances of similar lenity. Marcus Brutus was included in the number, and treated with especial kindness. As he did not appear immediately, Cæsar was very uneasy, apprehending he was slain; but when he presented himself without a wound, he expressed the utmost joy. Are we to consider this as an indication that there was truth in the Roman scandal, which hinted that Servilia, the mother of Brutus and sister of Cato, was less pure than a vestal, and that the subsequent ingratitude of her son ascended into a crime of deeper enormity? Cassius was also amongst the spared, but Cæsar ever gave him a cold shoulder, and looked on him with suspicion, sometimes treating him with injustice,† and always holding him in

dislike.

We

Pharsalia was undoubtedly one of the most decisive battles recorded in history. The event materially affected the destinies of men, and gave to Cæsar the absolute dominion of the world, which he was not long permitted to enjoy. His subsequent conquests, although obstinately disputed, were no longer doubtful, and merely swept off the relics of the great wreck in which

the cause of his rival had irretrievably foundered. Dumourier, in the fulness, or rather the fulsomeness of adulation, compared Albuera to Pharsalia, and placed the successful commander on a level with the Roman Emperor. Resemblance there was, certainly, in the advance of the six cohorts in the one instance, and in that of the fourth division in the other; as also in the result achieved by the valour of both. But at Pharsalia the manœuvre was premeditated; at Albuera, accidental. In the earlier battle, the general com manding foresaw and foretold the event. In the modern conflict, he was rescued from almost certain defeat by the prompt intelligence of his subordi nates and the hardy courage of his soldiers.

As Pharsalia was the most skilful of Cæsar's victories, won by strategy and superior skill, against a general of repu. tation almost equal to his own, and an army outnumbering his by more than two to one-so was Austerlitz the greatest triumph of Napoleon's genius, in which he scattered the stubborn Russian infantry, whose fathers had beaten the great Frederic at Cunnersdorff, and many of whom had themselves fought under Suvaroff, in his immortal Italian campaign of 1799, and shared in the glories of Trebbia, Parma, and Novi. In Pharsalia and Austerlitz

there was another very remarkable point of coincidence. The victorious general on both occasions announced to his troops before the action commenced the intention of the enemy, and the precise movement by which that intention would be frustrated. We have seen that Cæsar explained to his reserved cohorts the duty they had to perform, and the result he anticipated. At Austerlitz, Napoleon, having penetrated the mistake by which the Russian general thought to outflank his right, and turn his position, issued a soulstirring proclamation to his columns, before he sent them headlong against the brave and numerous, but ill-commanded enemy :

"Soldiers!" said the French Emperor, "the Russian army has presented itself before you, to avenge the disaster of the Austrians at Ulm. The positions which we occupy are formidable, and while they are marching to turn my right, they must present their own flank to your blows. I will myself direct all your battalions. I will keep myself at a distance from the fire, if, with your accustomed valour, you carry disorder and confusion into the ranks of the foe; but should victory appear for a moment uncertain, you shall see your emperor expose himself to the first stroke. For victory must not be doubtful on this occasion, especially where the reputation of the French infantry is at stake, which is so dear in interest to the honour of the whole nation."