[Sidenote: He subdues several towns.] [Sidenote: Caesar's advance.] [Sidenote: Distress of the armies.]

The news of his passage spread rapidly to all Pompey's stations along the coast, and the ships began to gather, and the armies to march toward the point where Caesar had effected his landing. The conflict and struggle commenced. One of Pompey's admirals intercepted the fleet of galleys on their return, and seized and burned a large number of them, with all who were on board. This, of course, only renewed the determined desperation of the remainder. Caesar advanced along the coast with the troops which he had landed, driving Pompey's troops before him, and subduing town after town as he advanced. The country was filled with terror and dismay. The portion of the army which Caesar had left behind could not now cross, partly on account of the stormy condition of the seas, the diminished number of the ships, and the redoubled vigilance with which Pompey's forces now guarded the shores, but mainly because Caesar was now no longer with them to inspire them with his reckless, though calm and quiet daring. They remained, therefore, in anxiety and distress, on the Italian shore. As Caesar, on the other hand, advanced along the Macedonian shore, and drove Pompey back into the interior, he cut off the communication between Pompey's ships and the land, so that the fleet was soon reduced to great distress for want of provisions and water. The men kept themselves from perishing with thirst by collecting the dew which fell upon the decks of their galleys. Caesar's army was also in distress, for Pompey's fleets cut off all supplies by water, and his troops hemmed them in on the side of the land; and, lastly, Pompey himself, with the immense army that was under his command, began to be struck with alarm at the impending danger with which they were threatened. Pompey little realized, however, how dreadful a fate was soon to overwhelm him.

[Sidenote: Caesar's impatience.] [Sidenote: He attempts to cross the Adriatic.]

The winter months rolled away, and nothing effectual was done. The forces, alternating and intermingled, as above described, kept each other in a continued state of anxiety and suffering. Caesar became impatient at the delay of that portion of his army that he had left on the Italian shore. The messages of encouragement and of urgency which he sent across to them did not bring them over, and at length, one dark and stormy night, when he thought that the inclemency of the skies and the heavy surging of the swell in the offing would drive his vigilant enemies into places of shelter, and put them off their guard, he determined to cross the sea himself and bring his hesitating army over. He ordered a galley to be prepared, and went on board of it disguised, and with his head muffled in his mantle, intending that not even the officers or crew of the ship which was to convey him should know of his design. The galley, in obedience to orders, put off from the shore. The mariners endeavored in vain for some time to make head against the violence of the wind and the heavy concussions of the waves, and at length, terrified at the imminence of the danger to which so wild and tumultuous a sea on such a night exposed them, refused to proceed, and the commander gave them orders to return. Caesar then came forward, threw off his mantle, and said to them, "Friends! you have nothing to fear. You are carrying Caesar."

The men were, of course, inspirited anew by this disclosure, but all was in vain. The obstacles to the passage proved insurmountable, and the galley, to avoid certain destruction, was compelled to return.

[Sidenote: Caesar lands the remainder of his army.]

The army, however, on the Italian side, hearing of Caesar's attempt to return to them, fruitless though it was, and stimulated by the renewed urgency of the orders which he now sent to them, made arrangements at last for an embarkation, and, after encountering great dangers on the way, succeeded in landing in safety. Caesar, thus strengthened, began to plan more decided operations for the coming spring.

[Sidenote: Attempts at negotiation.] [Sidenote: Conferences.] [Sidenote: End in violence and disorder.]

There were some attempts at negotiation. The armies were so exasperated against each other on account of the privations and hardships which each compelled the other to suffer, that they felt too strong a mutual distrust to attempt any regular communication by commissioners or ambassadors appointed for the purpose. They came to a parley, however, in one or two instances, though the interviews led to no result. As the missiles used in those days were such as could only be thrown to a very short distance, hostile bodies of men could approach much nearer to each other then than is possible now, when projectiles of the most terribly destructive character can be thrown for miles. In one instance, some of the ships of Pompey's fleet approached so near to the shore as to open a conference with one or two of Caesar's lieutenants who were encamped there. In another case, two bodies of troops from the respective armies were separated only by a river, and the officers and soldiers came down to the banks on either side, and held frequent conversations, calling to each other in loud voices across the water. In this way they succeeded in so far coming to an agreement as to fix upon a time and place for a more formal conference, to be held by commissioners chosen on each side. This conference was thus held, but each party came to it accompanied by a considerable body of attendants, and these, as might have been anticipated, came into open collision while the discussion was pending; thus the meeting consequently ended in violence and disorder, each party accusing the other of violating the faith which both had plighted.

[Sidenote: Undecided warfare.] [Sidenote: Bread made of roots.]

This slow and undecided mode of warfare between the two vast armies continued for many months without any decisive results. There were skirmishes, struggles, sieges, blockades, and many brief and partial conflicts, but no general and decided battle. Now the advantage seemed on one side, and now on the other. Pompey so hemmed in Caesar's troops at one period, and so cut off his supplies, that the men were reduced to extreme distress for food. At length they found a kind of root which they dug from the ground, and, after drying and pulverizing it, they made a sort of bread of the powder, which the soldiers were willing to eat rather than either starve or give up the contest. They told Caesar, in fact, that they would live on the bark of trees rather than abandon his cause. Pompey's soldiers, at one time, coming near to the walls of a town which they occupied, taunted and jeered them on account of their wretched destitution of food. Caesar's soldiers threw loaves of this bread at them in return, by way of symbol that they were abundantly supplied.

[Sidenote: Caesar hems Pompey in.] [Sidenote: Anxiety of the rivals.]

After some time the tide of fortune turned Caesar contrived, by a succession of adroit maneuvers and movements, to escape from his toils, and to circumvent and surround Pompey's forces so as soon to make them suffer destitution and distress in their turn. He cut off all communication between them and the country at large, and turned away the brooks and streams from flowing through the ground they occupied. An army of forty or fifty thousand men, with the immense number of horses and beasts of burden which accompany them, require very large supplies of water, and any destitution or even scarcity of water leads immediately to the most dreadful consequences. Pompey's troops dug wells, but they obtained only very insufficient supplies. Great numbers of beasts of burden died, and their decaying bodies so tainted the air as to produce epidemic diseases, which destroyed many of the troops, and depressed and disheartened those whom they did not destroy.

[Sidenote: Nature of the contest between Caesar and Pompey.] [Sidenote: Both hesitate.]

During all these operations there was no decisive general battle. Each one of the great rivals knew very well that his defeat in one general battle would be his utter and irretrievable ruin. In a war between two independent nations, a single victory, however complete, seldom terminates the struggle, for the defeated party has the resources of a whole realm to fall back upon, which are sometimes called forth with renewed vigor after experiencing such reverses; and then defeat in such cases, even if it be final, does not necessarily involve the ruin of the unsuccessful commander. He may negotiate an honorable peace, and return to his own land in safety; and, if his misfortunes are considered by his countrymen as owing not to any dereliction from his duty as a soldier, but to the influence of adverse circumstances which no human skill or resolution could have controlled, he may spend the remainder of his days in prosperity and honor. The contest, however, between Caesar and Pompey was not of this character. One or the other of them was a traitor and a usurper—an enemy to his country. The result of a battle would decide which of the two was to stand in this attitude. Victory would legitimize and confirm the authority of one, and make it supreme over the whole civilized world. Defeat was to annihilate the power of the other, and make him a fugitive and a vagabond, without friends, without home, without country. It was a desperate stake; and it is not at all surprising that both parties lingered and hesitated, and postponed the throwing of the die.

[Sidenote: The armies enter Thessaly.]

At length Pompey, rendered desperate by the urgency of the destitution and distress into which Caesar had shut him, made a series of rigorous and successful attacks upon Caesar's lines, by which he broke away in his turn from his enemy's grasp, and the two armies moved slowly back into the interior of the country, hovering in the vicinity of each other, like birds of prey contending in the air, each continually striking at the other, and moving onward at the same time to gain some position of advantage, or to circumvent the other in such a design. They passed on in this manner over plains, and across rivers, and through mountain passes, until at length they reached the heart of Thessaly. Here at last the armies came to a stand and fought the final battle.



[Sidenote: The plain of Pharsalia.] [Sidenote: Roman standard bearers.] [Sidenote: Pompey draws up his army.] [Sidenote: Forces on both sides.]

The place was known then as the plain of Pharsalia, and the greatness of the contest which was decided there has immortalized its name. Pompey's forces were far more numerous than those of Caesar, and the advantage in all the partial contests which had taken place for some time had been on his side; he felt, consequently, sure of victory. He drew up his men in a line, one flank resting upon the bank of a river, which protected them from attack on that side. From this point, the long line of legions, drawn up in battle array, extended out upon the plain, and was terminated at the other extremity by strong squadrons of horse, and bodies of slingers and archers, so as to give the force of weapons and the activity of men as great a range as possible there, in order to prevent Caesar's being able to outflank and surround them There was, however, apparently very little danger of this, for Caesar, according to his own story, had but about half as strong a force as Pompey. The army of the latter, he says, consisted of nearly fifty thousand men, while his own number was between twenty and thirty thousand. Generals, however, are prone to magnify the military grandeur of their exploits by overrating the strength with which they had to contend, and under-estimating their own. We are therefore to receive with some distrust the statements made by Caesar and his partisans; and as for Pompey's story, the total and irreparable ruin in which he himself and all who adhered to him were entirely overwhelmed immediately after the battle, prevented its being ever told.

[Sidenote: Appearance of Pompey's camp.] [Sidenote: Pompey's tent.]

In the rear of the plain where Pompey's lines were extended was the camp from which the army had been drawn out to prepare for the battle. The camp fires of the preceding night were moldering away, for it was a warm summer morning; the intrenchments were guarded, and the tents, now nearly empty, stood extended in long rows within the inclosure. In the midst of them was the magnificent pavilion of the general, furnished with every imaginable article of luxury and splendor. Attendants were busy here and there, some rearranging what had been left in disorder by the call to arms by which the troops had been summoned from their places of rest, and others providing refreshments-and food for their victorious comrades when they should return from the battle. In Pompey's tent a magnificent entertainment was preparing. The tables were spread with every luxury, the sideboards were loaded with plate, and the whole scene was resplendent with utensils and decorations of silver and gold.

[Sidenote: His confidence of victory.]

Pompey and all his generals were perfectly certain of victory. In fact, the peace and harmony of their councils in camp had been destroyed for many days by their contentions and disputes about the disposal of the high offices, and the places of profit and power at Rome, which were to come into their hands when Caesar should have been subdued. The subduing of Caesar they considered only a question of time; and, as a question of time, it was now reduced to very narrow limits. A few days more, and they were to be masters of the whole Roman empire, and, impatient and greedy, they disputed in anticipation about the division of the spoils.

To make assurance doubly sure, Pompey gave orders that his troops should not advance to meet the onset of Caesar's troops on the middle ground between the two armies, but that they should wait calmly for the attack, and receive the enemy at the posts where they had themselves been arrayed.

[Sidenote: The battle of Pharsalia.] [Sidenote: Defeat of Pompey.] [Sidenote: Scene of horror.]

The hour at length arrived, the charge was sounded by the trumpets, and Caesar's troops began to advance with loud shouts and great impetuosity toward Pompey's lines. There was a long and terrible struggle, but the forces of Pompey began finally to give way. Notwithstanding the precautions which Pompey had taken to guard and protect the wing of his army which was extended toward the land, Caesar succeeded in turning his flank upon that side by driving off the cavalry and destroying the archers and slingers, and he was thus enabled to throw a strong force upon Pompey's rear. The flight then soon became general, and a scene of dreadful confusion and slaughter ensued. The soldiers of Caesar's army, maddened with the insane rage which the progress of a battle never fails to awaken, and now excited to phrensy by the exultation of success, pressed on after the affrighted fugitives, who trampled one upon another, or fell pierced with the weapons of their assailants, filling the air with their cries of agony and their shrieks of terror. The horrors of the scene, far from allaying, only excited still more the ferocity of their bloodthirsty foes, and they pressed steadily and fiercely on, hour after hour, in their dreadful work of destruction. It was one of those scenes of horror and woe such as those who have not witnessed them can not conceive of, and those who have witnessed can never forget.

[Sidenote: Pompey's flight to the camp.] [Sidenote: Pompey in his tent.] [Sidenote: His consternation and despair.]

When Pompey perceived that all was lost, he fled from the field in a state of the wildest excitement and consternation. His troops were flying in all directions, some toward the camp, vainly hoping to find refuge there, and others in various other quarters, wherever they saw the readiest hope of escape from their merciless pursuers. Pompey himself fled instinctively toward the camp. As he passed the guards at the gate where he entered, he commanded them, in his agitation and terror, to defend the gate against the coming enemy, saying that he was going to the other gates to attend to the defenses there. He then hurried on, but a full sense of the helplessness and hopelessness of his condition soon overwhelmed him; he gave up all thought of defense, and, passing with a sinking heart through the scene of consternation and confusion which reigned every where within the encampment, he sought his own tent, and, rushing into it, sank down, amid the luxury and splendor which had been arranged to do honor to his anticipated victory, in a state of utter stupefaction and despair.



CHAPTER VIII.

FLIGHT AND DEATH OF POMPEY.

[Sidenote: Pursuit of the vanquished.] [Sidenote: Pompey recovers himself.]

Caesar pursued the discomfited and flying bodies of Pompey's army to the camp. They made a brief stand upon the ramparts and at the gates in a vain and fruitless struggle against the tide of victory which they soon perceived must fully overwhelm them. They gave way continually here and there along the lines of intrenchment, and column after column of Caesar's followers broke through into the camp. Pompey, hearing from his tent the increasing noise and uproar, was at length aroused from his stupor, and began to summon his faculties to the question what he was to do. At length a party of fugitives, hotly pursued by some of Caesar's soldiers, broke into his tent. "What!" said Pompey, "into my tent too!" He had been for more than thirty years a victorious general, accustomed to all the deference and respect which boundless wealth, extended and absolute power, and the highest military rank could afford. In the encampments which he had made, and in the cities which he had occupied from time to time, he had been the supreme and unquestioned master, and his tent, arranged and furnished, as it had always been, in a style of the utmost magnificence and splendor, had been sacred from all intrusion, and invested with such a dignity that potentates and princes were impressed when they entered, with a feeling of deference and awe. Now, rude soldiers burst wildly into it, and the air without was filled with an uproar and confusion, drawing every moment nearer and nearer, and warning the fallen hero that there was no longer any protection there against the approaching torrent which was coming on to overwhelm him.

[Sidenote: Pompey disguises himself.] [Sidenote: He escapes from the camp.]

Pompey aroused himself from his stupor, threw off the military dress which belonged to his rank and station, and assumed a hasty disguise, in which he hoped he might make his escape from the immediate scene of his calamities. He mounted a horse and rode out of the camp at the easiest place of egress in the rear, in company with bodies of troops and guards who were also flying in confusion, while Caesar and his forces on the other side were carrying the intrenchments and forcing their way in. As soon is he had thus made his escape from the immediate scene of danger, he dismounted and left his horse, that he might assume more completely the appearance of a common soldier, and, with a few attendants who were willing to follow his fallen fortunes, he went on to the eastward, directing his weary steps toward the shores of the Aegean Sea.

[Sidenote: The Vale of Tempe.] [Sidenote: Its picturesqueness.] [Sidenote: Pompey's sufferings.] [Sidenote: A drink of water.]

The country through which he was traveling was Thessaly. Thessaly is a vast amphitheater, surrounded by mountains, from whose sides streams descend, which, after watering many fertile valleys and plains, combine to form one great central river that flows to the eastward, and after various meanderings, finds its way into the Aegean Sea through a romantic gap between two mountains, called the Vale of Tempe—a vale which has been famed in all ages for the extreme picturesqueness of its scenery, and in which, in those days, all the charms both of the most alluring beauty and of the sublimest grandeur seemed to be combined. Pompey followed the roads leading along the banks of this stream, weary in body, and harassed and disconsolate in mind. The news which came to him from time to time, by the flying parties which were moving through the country in all directions, of the entire and overwhelming completeness of Caesar's victory, extinguished all remains of hope, and narrowed down at last the grounds of his solicitude to the single point of his own personal safety. He was well aware that he should be pursued, and, to baffle the efforts which he knew that his enemies would make to follow his track, he avoided large towns, and pressed forward in by-ways and solitudes, bearing as patiently as he was able his increasing destitution and distress. He reached, at length, the Vale of Tempe, and there, exhausted with hunger, thirst, and fatigue, he sat down upon the bank of the stream to recover by a little rest strength enough for the remainder of his weary way. He wished for a drink, but he had nothing to drink from. And so the mighty potentate, whose tent was full of delicious beverages, and cups and goblets of silver and gold, extended himself down upon the sand at the margin of the river, and drank the warm water directly from the stream.

[Sidenote: Caesar in Pompey's camp.]

While Pompey was thus anxiously and toilsomely endeavoring to gain the sea-shore, Caesar was completing his victory over the army which he had left behind him. When Caesar had carried the intrenchments of the camp, and the army found that there was no longer any safety for them there, they continued their retreat under the guidance of such generals as remained. Caesar thus gained undisputed possession of the camp. He found every where the marks of wealth and luxury, and indications of the confident expectation of victory which the discomfited army had entertained. The tents of the generals were crowned with myrtle, the beds were strewed with flowers, and tables every where were spread for feasts, with cups and bowls of wine all ready for the expected revelers. Caesar took possession of the whole, stationed a proper guard to protect the property, and then pressed forward with his army in pursuit of the enemy.

[Sidenote: Retreat of Pompey's army.] [Sidenote: Surrender of Pompey's army.]

Pompey's army made their way to a neighboring rising ground, where they threw up hasty intrenchments to protect themselves for the night. A rivulet ran near the hill, the access to which they endeavored to secure, in order to obtain supplies of water. Caesar and his forces followed them to this spot. The day was gone, and it was too late to attack them. Caesar's soldiers, too, were exhausted with the intense and protracted excitement and exertions which had now been kept up for many hours in the battle and in the pursuit, and they needed repose. They made, however, one effort more. They seized the avenue of approach to the rivulet, and threw up a temporary intrenchment to secure it which intrenchment they protected with a guard; and then the army retired to rest, leaving their helpless victims to while away the hours of the night, tormented with thirst, and overwhelmed with anxiety and despair. This could not long be endured. They surrendered in the morning, and Caesar found himself in possession of over twenty thousand prisoners.

[Sidenote: Pompey in the Vale of Tempe.]

In the mean time, Pompey passed on through the Vale of Tempe toward the sea, regardless of the beauty and splendor that surrounded him, and thinking only of his fallen fortunes, and revolving despairingly in his mind the various forms in which the final consummation of his ruin might ultimately come. At length he reached the sea-shore, and found refuge for the night in a fisherman's cabin. A small number of attendants remained with him, some of whom were slaves. These he now dismissed, directing them to return and surrender themselves to Caesar, saying that he was a generous foe, and that they had nothing to fear from him. His other attendants he retained, and he made arrangements for a boat to take him the next day along the coast. It was a river boat, and unsuited to the open sea, but it was all that he could obtain.

[Sidenote: Pompey embarks on board a vessel.] [Sidenote: The shipmaster's dream.]

He arose the next morning at break of day, and embarked in the little vessel, with two or three attendants, and the oarsmen began to row away along the shore. They soon came in sight of a merchant ship just ready to sail. The master of this vessel, it happened, had seen Pompey, and knew his countenance, and he had dreamed, as a famous historian of the times relates, on the night before, that Pompey had come to him hi the guise of a simple soldier and in great distress, and that he had received and rescued him. There was nothing extraordinary in such a dream at such a time, as the contest between Caesar and Pompey, and the approach of the final collision which was to destroy one or the other of them, filled the minds and occupied the conversation of the world. The shipmaster, therefore, having seen and known one of the great rivals in the approaching conflict, would naturally find both his waking and sleeping thoughts dwelling on the subject; and his fancy, in his dreams, might easily picture the scene of his rescuing and saving the fallen hero in the hour of his distress.

[Sidenote: Pompey goes on board a merchant ship.]

However this may be, the shipmaster is said to have been relating his dream to the seamen on the deck of his vessel when the boat which was conveying Pompey came into view. Pompey himself, having escaped from the land, supposed all immediate danger over, not imagining that seafaring men would recognize him in such a situation and in such a disguise. The shipmaster did, however, recognize him. He was overwhelmed with grief at seeing him in such a condition. With a countenance and with gestures expressive of earnest surprise and sorrow, he beckoned to Pompey to come on board. He ordered his own ship's boat to be immediately let down to meet and receive him. Pompey came on board. The ship was given up to his possession, and every possible arrangement was made to supply his wants, to contribute to his comfort, and to do him honor.

[Sidenote: His arrival at Amphipolis.]

The vessel conveyed him to Amphipolis, a city of Macedonia near the sea, and to the northward and eastward of the place where he had embarked. When Pompey arrived at the port he sent proclamations to the shore, calling upon the inhabitants to take arms and join his standard. He did not, however, land, or take any other measures for carrying these arrangements into effect. He only waited in the river upon which Amphipolis stands long enough to receive a supply of money from some of his friends on the shore, and stores for his voyage, and then get sail again. Whether he learned that Caesar was advancing in that direction with a force too strong for him to encounter, or found that the people were disinclined to espouse his cause, or whether the whole movement was a feint to direct Caesar's attention to Macedon as the field of his operations, in order that he might escape more secretly and safely beyond the sea, can not now be ascertained.

[Sidenote: Pompey's wife Cornelia.] [Sidenote: Her beauty and accomplishments.]

Pompey's wife Cornelia was on the island of Lesbos, at Mitylene, near the western coast of Asia Minor. She was a lady of distinguished beauty, and of great intellectual superiority and moral worth. She was extremely well versed in all the learning of the times, and yet was entirely free from those peculiarities and airs which, as her historian says, were often observed in learned ladies in those days. Pompey had married her after the death of Julia, Caesar's daughter. They were strongly devoted to each other. Pompey had provided for her a beautiful retreat on the island of Lesbos, where she was living in elegance and splendor, beloved for her own intrinsic charms, and highly honored on account of the greatness and fame of her husband. Here she had received from time to time glowing accounts of his success all exaggerated as they came to her, through the eager desire of the narrators to give her pleasure.

[Sidenote: Pompey's arrival at Mitylene.] [Sidenote: His meeting with Cornelia.]

From this high elevation of honor and happiness the ill-fated Cornelia suddenly fell, on the arrival of Pompey's solitary vessel at Mitylene, bringing as it did, at the same time, both the first intelligence of her husband's fall, and himself in person, a ruined and homeless fugitive and wanderer. The meeting was sad and sorrowful. Cornelia was overwhelmed at the suddenness and violence of the shock which it brought her, and Pompey lamented anew the dreadful disaster that he had sustained, at finding how inevitably it must involve his beloved wife as well as himself in its irreparable ruin.

[Sidenote: Pompey gathers a little fleet.]

The pain, however, was not wholly without some mingling of pleasure. A husband finds a strange sense of protection and safety in the presence and sympathy of an affectionate wife in the hour of his calamity. She can, perhaps do nothing, but her mute and sorrowful concern and pity comfort and reassure him. Cornelia, however, was able to render her husband some essential aid. She resolved immediately to accompany him wherever he should go; and, by their joint endeavors, a little fleet was gathered, and such supplies as could be hastily obtained, and such attendants and followers as were willing to share his fate, were taken on board. During all this time Pompey would not go on shore himself, but remained on board, his ship in the harbor. Perhaps he was afraid of some treachery or surprise, or perhaps, in his fallen and hopeless condition, he was unwilling to expose himself to the gaze of those who had so often seen him in all the splendor of his former power.

[Sidenote: He sails along the Mediterranean.] [Sidenote: Pompey receives additional supplies.]

At length, when all was ready, he sailed away. He passed eastward along the Mediterranean, touching at such ports as he supposed most likely to favor his cause. Vague and uncertain, but still alarming rumors that Caesar was advancing in pursuit of him met him every where, and the people of the various provinces were taking sides, some in his favor and some against him, the excitement being every where so great that the utmost caution and circumspection were required in all his movements. Sometimes he was refused permission to land; at others, his friends were too few to afford him protection; and at others still, though the authorities professed friendship, he did not dare to trust them. He obtained, however, some supplies of money and some accessions to the number of ships and men under his command, until at length he had quite a little fleet in his train. Several men of rank and influence, who had served under him in the days of his prosperity, nobly adhered to him now, and formed a sort of court or council on board his galley, where they held with their great though fallen commander frequent conversations on the plan which it was best to pursue.

[Sidenote: He seeks refuge in Egypt.] [Sidenote: Ptolemy and Cleopatra.]

It was finally decided that it was best to seek refuge in Egypt. There seemed to be, in fact, no alternative. All the rest of the world was evidently going over to Caesar. Pompey had been the means, some years before, of restoring a certain king of Egypt to his throne, and many of his soldiers had been left in the country, and remained there still. It is true that the king himself had died. He had left a daughter named Cleopatra, and also a son, who was at this time very young. The name of this youthful prince was Ptolemy. Ptolemy and Cleopatra bad been made by their father joint heirs to the throne. But Ptolemy, or, rather, the ministers and counselors who acted for him and in his name, had expelled Cleopatra, that they might govern alone. Cleopatra had raised an army in Syria, and was on her way to the frontiers of Egypt to regain possession of what she deemed her rights. Ptolemy's ministers had gone forth to meet her at the head of their own troops, 'Ptolemy himself being also with them. They had reached Pelusium, which is the frontier town between Egypt and Syria on the coast of the Mediterranean. Here their armies had assembled in vast encampments upon the land, and their galleys and transports were riding at anchor along the shore of the sea. Pompey and his-counselors thought that the government of Ptolemy would receive him as a friend, on account of the services he had rendered to the young prince's father, forgetting that gratitude has never a place on the list of political virtues.

[Sidenote: Pompey arrives at Pelusium.]

Pompey's little squadron made its way slowly over the waters of the Mediterranean toward Pelusium and the camp of Ptolemy. As they approached the shore, both Pompey himself and Cornelia felt many anxious forebodings. A messenger was sent to the land to inform the young king of Pompey's approach, and to solicit his protection. The government of Ptolemy held a council, and took the subject into consideration.

[Sidenote: Ptolemy's council resolve to murder Pompey.]

Various opinions were expressed, and various plans were proposed. The counsel which was finally followed was this. It would be dangerous to receive Pompey, since that would make Caesar their enemy. It would be dangerous to refuse to receive him, as that would make Pompey their enemy, and, though powerless now, he might one day be in a condition to seek vengeance. It was wisest, therefore, to destroy him. They would invite him to the shore, and kill him when he landed. This would please Caesar; and Pompey himself, being dead, could never revenge it. "Dead dogs," as the orator said who made this atrocious proposal, "do not bite."

[Sidenote: The assassin Achillas.]

An Egyptian, named Achillas, was appointed to execute the assassination thus decreed. An invitation was sent to Pompey to land, accompanied with a promise of protection; and, when his fleet had approached near enough to the shore, Achillas took a small party in a boat, and went out to meet his galley. The men in this boat, of course, were armed.

[Sidenote: Suspicions of Pompey's friends.] [Sidenote: Entreaties of Cornelia.] [Sidenote: Pompey's forlorn condition.] [Sidenote: He determines to land.]

The officers and attendants of Pompey watched all these movements from the deck of his galley. They scrutinized every thing that occurred with the closest attention and the greatest anxiety, to see whether the indications denoted an honest friendship or intentions of treachery. The appearances were not favorable. Pompey's friends observed that no preparations were making along the shore for receiving him with the honors due, as they thought, to his rank and station. The manner, too, in which the Egyptians seemed to expect him to land was ominous of evil. Only a single insignificant boat for a potentate who recently had commanded half the world! Then, besides, the friends of Pompey observed that several of the principal galleys of Ptolemy's fleet were getting up their anchors, and preparing apparently to be ready to move at a sudden call These and other indications appeared much more like preparations for seizing an enemy than welcoming a friend. Cornelia, who, with her little son, stood upon the deck of Pompey's galley, watching the scene with a peculiar intensity of solicitude which the hardy soldiers around her could not have felt, became soon exceedingly alarm ad. She begged her husband Dot to go on shore. But Pompey decided that it was now too late to retreat. He could not escape from the Egyptian galleys if they had received orders to intercept him, nor could he resist violence if violence were intended. To do any thing like that would evince distrust, and to appear like putting himself upon his guard would be to take at once, himself, the position of an enemy, and invite and justify the hostility of the Egyptians in return. As to flight, he could not hope to escape from the Egyptian galleys if they had received orders to prevent it; and, besides, if he were determined on attempting an escape, whither should he fly? The world was against him. His triumphant enemy was on his track in full pursuit, with all the vast powers and resources of the whole Roman empire at his command. There remained for Pompey only the last forlorn hope of a refuge in Egypt, or else, as the sole alternative, a complete and unconditional submission to Caesar. His pride would not consent to this, and he determined, therefore, dark as the indications were, to place himself, without any appearance of distrust, in Ptolemy's hands, and abide the issue.

The boat of Achillas approached the galley. When it touched the side, Achillas and the other officers on board of it hailed Pompey in the most respectful manner, giving him the title of Imperator, the highest title known in the Roman state. Achillas addressed Pompey in Greek. The Greek was the language of educated men in all the Eastern countries in those days. He told him that the water was too shallow for his galley to approach nearer to the shore, and invited him to come on board of his boat, and he would take him to the beach, where, as he said, the king was waiting to receive him.

[Sidenote: Preparations for landing.] [Sidenote: Pompey takes leave of his wife.]

With many anxious forebodings, that were but ill concealed, Pompey made preparations to accept the invitation. He bade his wife farewell, who clung to him as they were about to part with a gloomy presentiment that they should never meet again. Two centurions who were to accompany Pompey, and two servants, descended into the boat. Pompey himself followed, and then the boatmen pushed off from the galley and made toward the shore. The decks of all the vessels in Pompey's little squadron, as well as those of the Egyptian fleet, were crowded with spectators, and lines of soldiery and groups of men, all intently watching the operations of the landing, were scattered along the shore.

[Sidenote: The assassins.] [Sidenote: Gloomy silence.]

Among the men whom Achillas had provided to aid him in the assassination was an offieer of the Roman army who had formerly served under Pompey. As soon as Pompey was seated in the boat, he recognized the countenance of this man, and addressed him, saying, "I think I remember you as having been in former days my fellow-soldier." The man replied merely by a nod of assent. Feeling somewhat guilty and self-condemned at the thoughts of the treachery which he was about to perpetrate, he was little inclined to renew the recollection of the days when he was Pompey's friend. In fact, the whole company in the boat, filled on the one part with awe in anticipation of the terrible deed which they were soon to commit, and on the other with a dread suspense and alarm, were little disposed for conversation, and Pompey took out a manuscript of an address in Greek which he had prepared to make to the young king at his approaching interview with him, and occupied himself in reading it over. Thus they advanced in a gloomy and solemn silence, hearing no sound but the dip of the oars in the water, and the gentle dash of the waves along the line of the shore.

[Sidenote: Assassination of Pompey.]

At length the boat touched the sand, while Cornelia still stood on the deck of the galley, watching every movement with great solicitude and concern. One of the two servants whom Pompey had taken with him, named Philip, his favorite personal attendant, rose to assist his master in landing. He gave Pompey his hand to aid him in rising from his seat, and at that moment the Roman officer whom Pompey had recognized as his fellow-soldier, advanced behind him and stabbed him in the back. At the same instant Achillas and the others drew their swords. Pompey saw that all was lost. He did not speak, and he uttered no cry of alarm, though Cornelia's dreadful shriek was so loud and piercing that it was heard upon the shore. From the suffering victim himself nothing was heard but an inarticulate groan extorted by his agony. He gathered his mantle over his face, and sank down and died.

[Sidenote: Cornelia.] [Sidenote: The funeral pile.] [Sidenote: Pompey's ashes sent to Cornelia.]

Of course, all was now excitement and confusion. As soon as the deed was done, the perpetrators of it retired from the scene, taking the head of their unhappy victim with them, to offer to Caesar as proof that his enemy was really no more. The officers who remained in the fleet which had brought Pompey to the coast made all haste to sail away, bearing the wretched Cornelia with them, utterly distracted with grief and despair, while Philip and his fellow-servant remained upon the beach, standing bewildered and stupefied over the headless body of their beloved master. Crowds of spectators came in succession to look upon the hideous spectacle a moment in silence, and then to turn, shocked and repelled, away. At length, when the first impulse of excitement had in some measure spent its force, Philip and his comrades so far recovered their composure as to begin to turn their thoughts to the only consolation that was now left to them, that of performing the solemn duties of sepulture. They found the wreck of a fishing boat upon the strand, from which they obtained wood enough for a rude funeral pile. They burned what remained of the mutilated body, and, gathering up the ashes, they put them in an urn and sent them to Cornelia, who afterward buried them at Alba with many bitter tears.



CHAPTER IX.

CAESAR IN EGYPT.

[Sidenote: Caesar after the battle of Pharsalia.]

Caesar surveyed the field of battle after the victory of Pharsalia, not with the feelings of exultation which might have been expected in a victorious general, but with compassion and sorrow for the fallen soldiers whose dead bodies covered the ground. After gazing upon the scene sadly and in silence for a time, he said, "They would have it so," and thus dismissed from his mind all sense of his own responsibility for the consequences which had ensued.

[Sidenote: His clemency.] [Sidenote: Caesar pursues Pompey.]

He treated the immense body of prisoners which had fallen into his hands with great clemency, partly from the natural impulses of his disposition, which were always generous and noble, and partly from policy, that he might conciliate them all, officers and soldiers, to acquiescence in his future rule. He then sent back a large portion of his force to Italy, and, taking a body of cavalry from the rest, in order that he might advance with the utmost possible rapidity, he set off through Thessaly and Macedon in pursuit of his fugitive foe.

[Sidenote: Treasures of the Temple of Diana.]

He had no naval force at his command, and he accordingly kept upon the land. Besides, he wished, by moving through the country at the head of an armed force, to make a demonstration which should put down any attempt that might be made in arty quarter to rally or concentrate a force in Pompey's favor. He crossed the Hellespont, and moved down the coast of Asia Minor. There was a great temple consecrated to Diana at Ephesus, which, for its wealth and magnificence, was then the wonder of the world. The authorities who had it in their charge, not aware of Caesar's approach, had concluded to withdraw the treasures from the temple and loan them to Pompey, to be repaid when he should have regained his Dower. An assembly was accordingly convened to witness the delivery of the treasures, and take note of their value, which ceremony was to be performed with great formality and parade, when they learned that Caesar had crossed the Hellespont and was drawing near. The whole proceeding was thus arrested, and the treasures were retained.

[Sidenote: Caesar in Asia Minor.] [Sidenote: He sails for Egypt.]

Caesar passed rapidly on through Asia Minor, examining and comparing, as he advanced, the vague rumors which were continually coming in in respect to Pompey's movements. He learned at length that he had gone to Cyprus; he presumed that his destination was Egypt, and he immediately resolved to provide himself with a fleet, and follow him thither by sea. As time passed on, and the news of Pompey's defeat and flight, and of Caesar's triumphant pursuit of him, became generally extended and confirmed, the various powers ruling in all that region of the world abandoned one after another the hopeless cause, and began to adhere to Caesar. They offered him such resources and aid as he might desire. He did not, however, stop to organize a large fleet or to collect an army. He depended, like Napoleon, in all the great movements of his life, not on grandeur of preparation, but on celerity of action. He organized at Rhodes a small but very efficient fleet of ten galleys, and, embarking his best troops in them, he made sail for the coasts of Egypt. Pompey had landed at Pelusium, on the eastern frontier, having heard that the young king and his court were there to meet and resist Cleopatra's invasion. Caesar, however, with the characteristic boldness and energy of his character, proceeded directly to Alexandria, the capital.

[Sidenote: Caesar at Alexandria.]

Egypt was, in those days, an ally of the Romans, as the phrase was; that is, the country, though it preserved its independent organization and its forms of royalty, was still united to the Roman people by an intimate league, so as to form an integral part of the great empire. Caesar, consequently, in appearing there with an armed force, would naturally be received as a friend. He found only the garrison which Ptolemy's government had left in charge of the city. At first the officers of this garrison gave him an outwardly friendly reception, but they soon began to take offense at the air of authority and command which he assumed, and which seemed to them to indicate a spirit of encroachment on the sovereignty of their own king.

[Sidenote: The Roman fasces.] [Sidenote: The lictors.]

Feelings of deeply-seated alienation and animosity sometimes find their outward expression in contests about things intrinsically of very little importance. It was so in this case. The Roman consuls were accustomed to use a certain badge of authority called the fasces. It consisted of a bundle of rods, bound around the handle of an ax. Whenever a consul appeared in public, he was preceded by two officers called lictors, each of whom carried the fasces as a symbol of the power which was vested in the distinguished personage who followed them.

The Egyptian officers and the people of the city quarreled with Caesar on account of his moving about among them in his imperial state, accompanied by a life guard, and preceded by the lictors. Contests occurred between his troops and those of the garrison, and many disturbances were created in the streets of the city. Although no serious collision took place, Caesar thought it prudent to strengthen his force, and he sent back to Europe for additional legions to come to Egypt and join him.

[Sidenote: Pompey's head sent to Caesar.] [Sidenote: Caesar mourns Pompey.]

The tidings of Pompey's death came to Caesar at Alexandria, and with them the head of the murdered man, which was sent by the government of Ptolemy, they supposing that it would be an acceptable gift to Caesar. Instead of being pleased with it, Caesar turned from the shocking spectacle in horror. Pompey had been, for many years now gone by, Caesar's colleague and friend. He had been his son-in-law, and thus had sustained to him a very near and endearing relation. In the contest which had at last unfortunately arisen, Pompey had done no wrong either to Caesar or to the government at Rome. He was the injured party, so far as there was a right and a wrong to such a quarrel. And now, after being hunted through half the world by his triumphant enemy, he had been treacherously murdered by men pretending to receive him as a friend. The natural sense of justice, which formed originally so strong a trait in Caesar's character, was not yet wholly extinguished. He could not but feel some remorse at the thoughts of the long course of violence and wrong which he had pursued against his old champion and friend, and which had led at last to so dreadful an end. Instead of being pleased with the horrid trophy which the Egyptians sent him, he mourned the death of his great rival with sincere and unaffected grief, and was filled with indignation against his murderers.

[Sidenote: Pompey's signet ring.] [Sidenote: Caesar's respect for Pompey's memory.] [Sidenote: Pompey's Pillar.] [Sidenote: Origin of Pompey's Pillar.]



Pompey had a signet ring upon his finger at the time of his assassination, which was taken off by the Egyptian officers and carried away to Ptolemy, together with the other articles of value which had been found upon his person. Ptolemy sent this seal to Caesar to complete the proof that its possessor was no more. Caesar received this memorial with eager though mournful pleasure, and he preserved it with great care. And in many ways, during all the remainder of his life, he manifested every outward indication of cherishing the highest respect for Pompey's memory. There stands to the present day, among the ruins of Alexandria, a beautiful column, about one hundred feet high, which has been known in all modern times as POMPEY'S PILLAR. It is formed of stone, and is in three parts. One stone forms the pedestal, another the shaft, and a third the capital. The beauty of this column, the perfection of its workmanship, which still continues in excellent preservation, and its antiquity, so great that all distinct record of its origin is lost, have combined to make it for many ages the wonder and admiration of mankind. Although no history of its origin has come down to us, a tradition has descended that Caesar built it during his residence in Egypt, to commemorate the name of Pompey; but whether it was his own victory over Pompey, or Pompey's own character and military fame which the structure was intended to signalize to mankind, can not now be known. There is even some doubt whether it was erected by Caesar at all.

[Sidenote: Surrender of Pompey's officers.] [Sidenote: Caesar's generosity.]

While Caesar was in Alexandria, many of Pompey's officers, now that their master was dead, and there was no longer any possibility of their rallying again under his guidance and command, came in and surrendered themselves to him. He received them with great kindness, and, instead of visiting them with any penalties for having fought against him, he honored the fidelity and bravery they had evinced in the service of their own former master. Caesar had, in fact, shown the same generosity to the soldiers of Pompey's army that he had taken prisoners at the battle of Pharsalia. At the close of the battle, he issued orders that each one of his soldiers should have permission to save one of the enemy. Nothing could more strikingly exemplify both the generosity and the tact that marked the great conqueror's character than this incident. The hatred and revenge which had animated his victorious soldiery in the battle and in the pursuit, were changed immediately by the permission to compassion and good will. The ferocious soldiers turned at once from the pleasure of hunting their discomfited enemies to death, to that of protecting and defending them; and the way was prepared for their being received into his service, and incorporated with the rest of his army as friends and brothers.

[Sidenote: His position at Alexandria.] [Sidenote: Caesar's interference in Egyptian affairs.]

Caesar soon found himself in so strong a position at Alexandria, that he determined to exercise his authority as Roman consul to settle the dispute in respect to the succession of the Egyptian crown. There was no difficulty in finding pretexts for interfering in the affairs of Egypt. In the first place, there was, as he contended, great anarchy and confusion at Alexandria, people taking different sides in the controversy with such fierceness as to render it impossible that good government and public order should be restored until this great question was settled. He also claimed a debt due from the Egyptian government, which Photinus, Ptolemy's minister at Alexandria, was very dilatory in paying. This led to animosities and disputes; and, finally, Caesar found, or pretended to find, evidence that Photinus was forming plots against his life. At length Caesar determined on taking decided action. He sent orders both to Ptolemy and to Cleopatra to disband their forces, to repair to Alexandria, and lay their respective claims before him for his adjudication.

[Sidenote: Cleopatra.]

Cleopatra complied with this summons, and returned to Egypt with a view to submitting her case to Caesar's arbitration. Ptolemy determined to resist. He advanced toward Egypt, but it was at the head of his army, and with a determination to drive Caesar and all his Roman followers away.

[Sidenote: Caesar's guilty passion for Cleopatra.]

When Cleopatra arrived, she found that the avenues of approach to Caesar's quarters were all in possession of her enemies, so that, in attempting to join him, she incurred danger of falling into their hands as a prisoner. She resorted to a stratagem, as the story is, to gain a secret admission. They rolled her up in a sort of bale of bedding or carpeting, and she was carried in in this way on the back of a man, through the guards, who might otherwise have intercepted her. Caesar was very much pleased with this device, and with the successful result of it. Cleopatra, too, was young and beautiful, and Caesar immediately conceived a strong but guilty attachment to her, which she readily returned. Caesar espoused her cause, and decided that she and Ptolemy should jointly occupy the throne.

[Sidenote: Resistance of Ptolemy.] [Sidenote: The Alexandrine war.]

Ptolemy and his partisans were determined not to submit to this award. The consequence was, a violent and protracted war. Ptolemy was not only incensed at being deprived of what he considered his just right to the realm, he was also half distracted at the thought of his sister's disgraceful connection with Caesar. His excitement and distress, and the exertions and efforts to which they aroused him, awakened a strong sympathy in his cause among the people, and Caesar found himself involved in a very serious contest, in which his own life was brought repeatedly into the most imminent danger, and which seriously threatened the total destruction of his power. He, however, braved all the difficulty and dangers, and recklessly persisted in the course he had taken, under the influence of the infatuation in which his attachment to Cleopatra held him, as by a spell.

[Sidenote: The Pharos.] [Sidenote: Great splendor of the Pharos.]

The war in which Caesar was thus involved by his efforts to give Cleopatra a seat with her brother on the Egyptian throne, is called in history the Alexandrine war. It was marked by many strange and romantic incidents. There was a light-house, called the Pharos, on a small island opposite the harbor of Alexandria, and it was so famed, both on account of the great magnificence of the edifice itself, and also on account of its position at the entrance to the greatest commercial port in the world, that it has given its name, as a generic appellation, to all other structures of the kind—any light-house being now called a Pharos, just as any serious difficulty is called a Gordian knot. The Pharos was a lofty tower—the accounts say that it was five hundred feet in height, which would be an enormous elevation for such a structure—and in a lantern at the top a brilliant light was kept constantly burning, which could be seen over the water for a hundred miles. The tower was built in several successive stories, each being ornamented with balustrades, galleries, and columns, so that the splendor of the architecture by day rivaled the brilliancy of the radiation which beamed from the summit by night. Far and wide over the stormy waters of the Mediterranean this meteor glowed, inviting and guiding the mariners in; and both its welcome and its guidance were doubly prized in those ancient days, when there was neither compass nor sextant on which they could rely. In the course of the contest with the Egyptians, Caesar took possession of the Pharos, and of the island on which it stood; and as the Pharos was then regarded as one of the seven wonders of the world, the fame of the exploit, though it was probably nothing remarkable in a military point of view, spread rapidly throughout the world.

[Sidenote: It is captured by Caesar.]

And yet, though the capture of a light-house was no very extraordinary conquest, in the course of the contests on the harbor which were connected with it Caesar had a very narrow escape from death. In all such struggles he was accustomed always to take personally his full share of the exposure and the danger. This resulted in part from the natural impetuosity and ardor of his character, which were always aroused to double intensity of action by the excitement of battle, and partly from the ideas of the military duty of a commander which prevailed in those days. There was besides, in this case, an additional inducement to acquire the glory of extraordinary exploits, in Caesar's desire to be the object of Cleopatra's admiration, who watched all his movements, and who was doubly pleased with his prowess and bravery, since she saw that they were exercised for her sake and in her cause.

[Sidenote: Situation of the Pharos.] [Sidenote: Caesar's personal danger.] [Sidenote: Caesar's narrow escape.]

The Pharos was built upon an island, which was connected by a pier or bridge with the main land. In the course of the attack upon this bridge, Caesar, with a party of his followers, got driven back and hemmed in by a body of the enemy that surrounded them, in such a place that the only mode of escape seemed to be by a boat, which might take them to a neighboring galley. They began, therefore, all to crowd into the boat in confusion, and so overloaded it that it was obviously in imminent danger of being upset or of sinking. The upsetting or sinking of an overloaded boat brings almost certain destruction upon most of the passengers, whether swimmers or not, as they seize each other in their terror, and go down inextricably entangled together, each held by the others in the convulsive grasp with which drowning men always cling to whatever is within their reach. Caesar, anticipating this danger, leaped over into the sea and swam to the ship. He had some papers in his hand at the time—plans, perhaps, of the works which he was assailing. These he held above the water with his left hand, while he swam with the right. And to save his purple cloak or mantle, the emblem of his imperial dignity, which he supposed the enemy would eagerly seek to obtain as a trophy, he seized it by a corner between his teeth, and drew it after him through the water as he swam toward the galley. The boat which he thus escaped from soon after went down, with all on board.

[Sidenote: The Alexandrian library.] [Sidenote: Burning of the Alexandrian library.]

During the progress of this Alexandrine war one great disaster occurred, which has given to the contest a most melancholy celebrity in all subsequent ages: this disaster was the destruction of the Alexandrian library. The Egyptians were celebrated for their learning, and, under the munificent patronage of some of their kings, the learned men of Alexandria had made an enormous collection of writings, which were inscribed, as was the custom in those days, on parchment rolls. The number of the rolls or volumes was said to be seven hundred thousand; and when we consider that each one was written with great care, in beautiful characters, with a pen, and at a vast expense, it is not surprising that the collection was the admiration of the world. In fact, the whole body of ancient literature was there recorded. Caesar set fire to some Egyptian galleys, which lay so near the shore that the wind blew the sparks and flames upon the buildings on the quay. The fire spread among the palaces and other magnificent edifices of that part of the city, and one of the great buildings in which the library was stored was reached and destroyed. There was no other such collection in the world; and the consequence of this calamity has been, that it is only detached and insulated fragments of ancient literature and science that have come down to our times. The world will never cease to mourn the irreparable loss.

[Sidenote: Caesar returns to Rome.]

Notwithstanding the various untoward incidents which attended the war in Alexandria during its progress, Caesar, as usual, conquered in the end. The young king Ptolemy was defeated, and, in attempting to make his escape across a branch of the Nile, he was drowned. Caesar then finally settled the kingdom upon Cleopatra and a younger brother, and, after remaining for some time longer in Egypt, he set out on his return to Rome.



[Sidenote: Subsequent adventures of Cleopatra.]

The subsequent adventures of Cleopatra were as romantic as to have given her name a very wide celebrity. The lives of the virtuous pass smoothly and happily away, but the tale, when told to others, possesses but little interest or attraction; while those of the wicked, whose days are spent in wretchedness and despair, and are thus full of misery to the actors themselves, afford to the rest of mankind a high degree of pleasure, from the dramatic interest of the story.

[Sidenote: Her splendid barge.] [Sidenote: Anthony and Octavius.] [Sidenote: Death of Cleopatra.]

Cleopatra led a life of splendid sin, and, of course, of splendid misery. She visited Caesar in Rome after his return thither. Caesar received her magnificently, and paid her all possible honors; but the people of Rome regarded her with strong reprobation. When her young brother, whom Caesar had made her partner on the throne, was old enough to claim his share, she poisoned him. After Caesar's death, she went from Alexandria to Syria to meet Antony, one of Caesar's successors, in a galley or barge, which was so rich, so splendid, so magnificently furnished and adorned, that it was famed throughout the world as Cleopatra's barge. A great many beautiful vessels have since been called by the same name. Cleopatra connected herself with Antony, who became infatuated with her beauty and her various charms as Caesar had been. After a great variety of romantic adventures, Antony was defeated in battle by his great rival Octavius, and, supposing that he had been betrayed by Cleopatra, he pursued her to Egypt, intending to kill her. She hid herself in a sepulcher, spreading a report that she had committed suicide, and then Antony stabbed himself in a fit of remorse and despair. Before he died, he learned that Cleopatra was alive, and he caused himself to be carried into her presence and died in her arms. Cleopatra then fell into the hands of Octavius, who intended to carry her to Rome to grace his triumph. To save herself from this humiliation, and weary with a life which, full of sin as it had been, was a constant series of sufferings, she determined to die. A servant brought in an asp for her, concealed in a vase of flowers, at a great banquet. She laid the poisonous reptile on her naked arm, and died immediately of the bite which it inflicted.



CHAPTER X.

CAESAR IMPERATOR.

[Sidenote: Caesar again at Rome.] [Sidenote: Combinations against him.] [Sidenote: Veni, vidi, vici.]

Although Pompey himself had been killed, and the army under his immediate command entirely annihilated, Caesar did not find that the empire was yet completely submissive to his sway. As the tidings of his conquests spread over the vast and distant regions which were under the Roman rule—although the story itself of his exploits might have been exaggerated—the impression produced by his power lost something of its strength, as men generally have little dread of remote danger. While he was in Egypt, there were three great concentrations of power formed against him in other quarters of the globe: in Asia Minor, in Africa, and in Spain. In putting down these three great and formidable arrays of opposition, Caesar made an exhibition to the world of that astonishing promptness and celerity of military action on which his fame as a general so much depends. He went first to Asia Minor, and fought a great and decisive battle there, in a manner so sudden and unexpected to the forces that opposed him that they found themselves defeated almost before they suspected that their enemy was near. It was in reference to this battle that he wrote the inscription for the banner, "Veni, vidi, vici" The words may be rendered in English, "I came, looked, and conquered," though the peculiar force of the expression, as well as the alliteration, is lost in any attempt to translate it.

[Sidenote: Caesar made dictator.]

In the mean time, Caesar's prosperity and success had greatly strengthened his cause at Rome. Rome was supported in a great measure by the contributions brought home from the provinces by the various military heroes who were sent out to govern them; and, of course, the greater and more successful was the conqueror, the better was he qualified for stations of highest authority in the estimation of the inhabitants of the city. They made Caesar dictator even while he was away, and appointed Mark Antony his master of horse. This was the same Antony whom we have already mentioned as having been connected with Cleopatra after Caesar's death. Rome, in fact, was filled with the fame of Caesar's exploits, and, as he crossed the Adriatic and advanced toward the city, he found himself the object of universal admiration and applause.

[Sidenote: Opposition of Cato.] [Sidenote: Pompey's sons.]

But he could not yet be contented to establish himself quietly at Rome. There was a large force organized against him in Africa under Cato, a stern and indomitable man, who had long been an enemy to Caesar, and who now considered him as a usurper and an enemy of the republic, and was determined to resist him to the last extremity. There was also a large force assembled in Spain under the command of two sons of Pompey, in whose case the ordinary political hostility of contending partisans was rendered doubly intense and bitter by their desire to avenge their father's cruel fate. Caesar determined first to go to Africa, and then, after disposing of Cato's resistance, to cross the Mediterranean into Spain.

[Sidenote: Complaints of the soldiers.]

Before he could set out, however, on these expeditions, he was involved in very serious difficulties for a time, on account of a great discontent which prevailed in his army, and which ended at last in open mutiny. The soldiers complained that they had not received the rewards and honors which Caesar had promised them. Some claimed offices, others money others lands, which, as they maintained, they had been led to expect would be conferred upon them at the end of the campaign. The fact undoubtedly was, that, elated with their success, and intoxicated with the spectacle of the boundless influence and power which their general so obviously wielded at Rome, they formed expectations and hopes for themselves altogether too wild and unreasonable to be realized by soldiers; for soldiers, however much they may be flattered by their generals in going into battle, or praised in the mass in official dispatches, are after all but slaves, and slaves, too, of the very humblest caste and character.

[Sidenote: The mutiny.] [Sidenote: The army marches to Rome.]

The famous tenth legion, Cesar's favorite corps, took the most active part in fomenting these discontents, as might naturally have been expected, since the attentions and the praises which he had bestowed upon them, though at first they tended to awaken their ambition, and to inspire them with redoubled ardor and courage, ended, as such favoritism always does, in making them vain, self-important, and unreasonable. Led on thus by the tenth legion, the whole army mutinied. They broke up the camp where they had been stationed at some distance beyond the walls of Rome, and marched toward the city. Soldiers in a mutiny, even though headed by their subaltern officers, are very little under command; and these Roman troops, feeling released from their usual restraints, committed various excesses on the way, terrifying the inhabitants and spreading universal alarm. The people of the city were thrown into utter consternation at the approach of the vast horde, which was coming like a terrible avalanche to descend upon them.

[Sidenote: Plan of the soldiers.]

The army expected some signs of resistance at the gates, which, if offered, they were prepared to encounter and overcome. Their plan was, after entering the city, to seek Caesar and demand their discharge from his service. They knew that he was under the necessity of immediately making a campaign in Africa, and that, of course, he could not possibly, as they supposed, dispense with them. He would, consequently, if they asked their discharge, beg them to remain, and, to induce them to do it, would comply with all their expectations and desires.

Such was their plan. To tender, however, a resignation of an office as a means of bringing an opposite party to terms, is always a very hazardous experiment. We easily overrate the estimation in which our own services are held taking what is said to us in kindness or courtesy by friends as the sober and deliberate judgment of the public; and thus it often happens that persons who in such case offer to resign, are astonished to find their resignations readily accepted.

[Sidenote: The army marches into the city.]

When Caesar's mutineers arrived at the gates, they found, instead of opposition, only orders from Caesar, by which they were directed to leave all their arms except their swords, and march into the city. They obeyed. They were then directed to go to the Campus Martius, a vast parade ground situated within the walls, and to await Caesar's orders there.[3]

[Footnote 3: See map of the city of Rome, fronting the first page.]

[Sidenote: The Campus Martius.] [Sidenote: Caesar's address to the army.]

Caesar met them in the Campus Martius, and demanded why they had left their encampment without orders and come to the city. They stated in reply, as they had previously planned to do, that they wished to be discharged from the public service. To their great astonishment, Caesar seemed to consider this request as nothing at all extraordinary, but promised, an the other hand, very readily to grant it He said that they should be at once discharged, and should receive faithfully all the rewards which had been promised them at the close of the war for their long and arduous services. At the same time, he expressed his deep regret that, to obtain what he was perfectly willing and ready at any time to grant, they should have so far forgotten their duties as Romans, and violated the discipline which should always be held absolutely sacred by every soldier. He particularly regretted that the tenth legion, on which he had been long accustomed so implicitly to rely, should have taken a part in such transactions.

[Sidenote: Its effects.] [Sidenote: Attachment of Caesar's soldiers.]

In making this address, Caesar assumed a kind and considerate, and even respectful tone toward his men, calling them Quirites instead of soldiers—an honorary mode of appellation, which recognized them as constituent members of the Roman commonwealth. The effect of the whole transaction was what might have been anticipated. A universal desire was awakened throughout the whole army to return to their duty. They sent deputations to Caesar, begging not to be taken at their word, but to be retained in the service, and allowed to accompany him to Africa. After much hesitation and delay, Caesar consented to receive them again, all excepting the tenth legion, who, he said, had now irrevocably lost his confidence and regard. It is a striking illustration of the strength of the attachment which bound Caesar's soldiers to their commander, that the tenth legion would not be discharged, after all. They followed Caesar of their own accord into Africa, earnestly entreating him again and again to receive them. He finally did receive them in detachments, which he incorporated with the rest of his army, or sent on distant service, but he would never organize them as the tenth legion again.

[Sidenote: Caesar goes to Africa.] [Sidenote: Cato shuts himself up in Africa.]

It was now early in the winter, a stormy season for crossing the Mediterranean Sea. Caesar, however, set off from Rome immediately, proceeded south to Sicily, and encamped on the sea-shore there till the fleet was ready to convey his forces to Africa. The usual fortune attended him in the African campaigns His fleet was exposed to imminent dangers in crossing the sea, but, in consequence of the extreme deliberation and skill with which his arrangements were made, he escaped them all. He overcame one after another of the military difficulties which were in his way in Africa. His army endured, in the depth of winter, great exposures and fatigues, and they had to encounter a large hostile force under the charge of Cato. They were, however, successful in every undertaking. Cato retreated at last to the city of Utica, where he shut himself up with the remains of his army; but finding, at length, when Caesar drew near, that there was no hope or possibility of making good his defense, and as his stern and indomitable spirit could not endure the thought of submission to one whom he considered as an enemy to his country and a traitor he resolved upon a very effectual mode of escaping from his conqueror's power.

[Sidenote: He stabs himself.] [Sidenote: Death of Cato.]

He feigned to abandon all hope of defending the city, and began to make arrangements to facilitate the escape of his soldiers over the sea. He collected the vessels in the harbor, and allowed all to embark who were willing to take the risks of the stormy water. He took, apparently, great interest in the embarkations, and, when evening came on, he sent repeatedly down to the sea-side to inquire about the state of the wind and the progress of the operations. At length he retired to his apartment, and, when all was quiet in the house, he lay down upon his bed and stabbed himself with his sword He fell from the bed by the blow, or else from the effect of some convulsive motion which the penetrating steel occasioned. His son and servants, hearing the fall, came rushing into the room, raised him from the floor, and attempted to bind up and stanch the wound. Cato would not permit them to do it. He resisted them violently as soon as he was conscious of what they intended. Finding that a struggle would only aggravate the horrors of the scene, and even hasten its termination, they left the bleeding hero to his fate, and in a few minutes he died.

[Sidenote: Folly of his suicide.]

The character of Cato, and the circumstances under which his suicide was committed, make it, on the whole, the most conspicuous act of suicide which history records; and the events which followed show in an equally conspicuous manner the extreme folly of the deed. In respect to its wickedness, Cato, not having had the light of Christianity before him, is to be leniently judged. As to the folly of the deed, however, he is to be held strictly accountable. If he had lived and yielded to his conqueror, as he might have done gracefully and without dishonor, since all his means of resistance were exhausted, Caesar would have treated him with generosity and respect, and would have taken him to Rome; and as within a year or two of this time Caesar himself was no more, Cato's vast influence and power might have been, and un doubtedly would have been, called most effectually into action for the benefit of his country. If any one, in defending Cato, should say he could not foresee this, we reply, he could have foreseen it; not the precise events, indeed, which occurred, but he could have foreseen that vast changes must take place, and new aspects of affairs arise, in which his powers would be called into requisition. We can always foresee in the midst of any storm, however dark and gloomy, that clear skies will certainly sooner or later come again; and this is just as true metaphorically in respect to the vicissitudes of human life, as it is literally in regard to the ordinary phenomena of the skies.

[Sidenote: Caesar in Spain.] [Sidenote: Defeat of Pompey's sons.]

From Africa Caesar returned to Rome, and from Rome he went to subdue the resistance which was offered by the sons of Pompey in Spain. He was equally successful here. The oldest son was wounded in battle, and was carried off from the field upon a litter faint and almost dying. He recovered in some degree, and, finding escape from the eager pursuit of Caesar's soldiers impossible, he concealed himself in a cave, where he lingered for a little time in destitution and misery. He was discovered at last; his head was cut off by his captors and sent to Caesar, as his father's had been. The younger son succeeded in escaping, but he became a wretched fugitive and outlaw, and all manifestations of resistance to Caesar's sway disappeared from Spain. The conqueror returned to Rome the undisputed master of the whole Roman world.



[Sidenote: Caesar's triumphs.] [Sidenote: The triumphal car breaks down.] [Sidenote: Elephant torch-bearers.]

Then came his triumphs. Triumphs were great celebrations, by which military heroes in the days of the Roman commonwealth signalized their victories on their return to the city Caesar's triumphs were four, one for each of his four great successful campaigns, viz., in Egypt, in Asia Minor, in Africa, and in Spain. Each was celebrated on a separate day, and there was an interval of several days between them, to magnify their importance, and swell the general interest which they excited among the vast population of the city. On one of these days, the triumphal car in which Caesar rode, which was most magnificently adorned, broke down on the way, and Caesar was nearly thrown out of it by the shock. The immense train of cars, horses, elephants, flags, banners, captives, and trophies which formed the splendid procession was all stopped by the accident, and a considerable delay ensued. Night came on, in fact before the column could again be put in motion to enter the city, and then Caesar, whose genius was never more strikingly shown than when he had opportunity to turn a calamity to advantage, conceived the idea of employing the forty elephants of the train as torch-bearers; the long procession accordingly advanced through the streets and ascended to the Capitol, lighted by the great blazing flambeaus which the sagacious and docile beasts were easily taught to bear, each elephant holding one in his proboscis, and waving it above the crowd around him.

[Sidenote: Trophies and emblems.]

In these triumphal processions, every thing was borne in exhibition which could serve as a symbol of the conquered country or a trophy of victory, Flags and banners taken from the enemy; vessels of gold and silver, and other treasures, loaded in vans; wretched captives conveyed in open carriages or marching sorrowfully on foot, and destined, some of them, to public execution when the ceremony of the triumph was ended; displays of arms, and implements, and dresses, and all else which might serve to give the Roman crowd an idea of the customs and usages of the remote and conquered nations; the animals they used, caparisoned in the manner in which they used them: these, and a thousand other trophies and emblems, were brought into the line to excite the admiration of the crowd, and to add to the gorgeousness of the spectacle. In fact, it was always a great object of solicitude and exertion with all the Roman generals, when on distant and dangerous expeditions, to possess themselves of every possible prize in the progress of their campaign which could aid in adding splendor to the triumph which was to signalize its end.

[Sidenote: Banners and paintings.]

In these triumphs of Caesar, a young sister of Cleopatra was in the line of the Egyptian procession. In that devoted to Asia Minor was a great banner containing the words already referred to, Veni, Vidi, Vici. There were great paintings, too, borne aloft, representing battles and other striking scenes. Of course, all Rome was in the highest state of excitement during the days of the exhibition of this pageantry. The whole surrounding country flocked to the capital to witness it, and Caesar's greatness and glory were signalized in the most conspicuous manner to all mankind.

[Sidenote: Public entertainments.] [Sidenote: Various spectacles and amusements.] [Sidenote: Naval combats.]

After these triumphs, a series of splendid public entertainments were given, over twenty thousand tables having been spread for the populace of the city Shows of every possible character and variety were exhibited. There were dramatic plays, and equestrian performances in the circus, and gladiatorial combats, and battles with wild beasts, and dances, and chariot races, and every other imaginable amusement which could be devised and carried into effect to gratify a population highly cultivated in all the arts of life, but barbarous and cruel in heart and character. Some of the accounts which have come down to us of the magnificence of the scale on which these entertainments were conducted are absolutely incredible. It is said, for example, that an immense basin was constructed near the Tiber, large enough to contain two fleets of galleys, which had on board two thousand rowers each, and one thousand fighting men. These fleets were then manned with captives, the one with Asiatics and the other with Egyptians, and when all was ready, they were compelled to fight a real battle for the amusement of the spectators which thronged the shores, until vast numbers were killed, and the waters of the lake were dyed with blood. It is also said that the whole Forum, and some of the great streets in the neighborhood where the principal gladiatorial shows were held, were covered with silken awnings to protect the vast crowds of spectators from the sun, and thousands of tents were erected to accommodate the people from the surrounding country, whom the buildings of the city could not contain.

[Sidenote: Caesar's power.] [Sidenote: Honors conferred upon him.]

All open opposition to Caesar's power and dominion now entirely disappeared. Even the Senate vied with the people in rendering him every possible honor. The supreme power had been hitherto lodged in the hands of two consuls, chosen annually, and the Roman people had been extremely jealous of any distinction for any one, higher than that of an elective annual office, with a return to private life again when the brief period should have expired. They now, however, made Caesar, in the first place, consul for ten years, and then Perpetual Dictator. They conferred upon him the title of the Father of his Country. The name of the month in which he was born was changed to Julius, from his praenomen, and we still retain the name. He was made, also, commander-in-chief of all the armies of the commonwealth, the title to which vast military power was expressed in the Latin language by the word IMPERATOR.

[Sidenote: Statues of Caesar.]

Caesar was highly elated with all these substantial proofs of the greatness and glory to which he had attained, and was also very evidently gratified with smaller, but equally expressive proofs of the general regard. Statues representing his person were placed in the public edifices, and borne in processions like those of the gods. Conspicuous and splendidly ornamented seats were constructed for him in all the places of public assembly, and on these he sat to listen to debates or witness spectacles, as if he were upon a throne He had, either by his influence or by his direct power, the control of all the appointments to office, and was, in fact, in every thing but the name, a sovereign and an absolute king.

[Sidenote: His plans of internal improvement.]

He began now to form great schemes of internal improvement for the general benefit of the empire. He wished to increase still more the great obligations which the Roman people were under to him for what he had already done. They really were under vast obligations to him; for, considering Rome as a community which was to subsist by governing the world, Caesar had immensely enlarged the means of its subsistence by establishing its sway every where, and providing for an incalculable increase of its revenues from the tribute and the taxation of conquered provinces and kingdoms. Since this work of conquest was now completed, he turned his attention to the internal affairs of the empire, and made many improvements in the system of administration, looking carefully into every thing, and introducing every where those exact and systematic principles which such a mind as his seeks instinctively in every thing over which it has any control.

[Sidenote: Ancient division of time.] [Sidenote: Change effected by Caesar.] [Sidenote: The old and new styles.]

One great change which he effected continues in perfect operation throughout Europe to the present day. It related to the division of time. The system of months in use in his day corresponded so imperfectly with the annual circuit of the sun, that the months were moving continually along the year in such a manner that the winter months came at length in the summer, and the summer months in the winter. This led to great practical inconveniences; for whenever, for example, any thing was required by law to be done in certain months, intending to have them done in the summer, and the specified month came at length to be a winter month, the law would require the thing to be done in exactly the wrong season. Caesar remedied all this by adopting a new system of months, which should give three hundred and sixty-five days to the year for three years, and three hundred and sixty-six for the fourth; and so exact was the system which he thus introduced, that it went on unchanged for sixteen centuries. The months were then found to be eleven days out of the way, when a new correction was introduced,[4] and it will now go on three thousand years before the error will amount to a single day. Caesar employed a Greek astronomer to arrange the system that he adopted; and it was in part on account of the improvement which he thus effected that one of the months, as has already been mentioned, was called July. Its name before was Quintilis.