“Quick!” shouted Bevis, turning his legions to the left. “Quick march! Run!”
Volume One—Chapter Sixteen.
The Battle of Pharsalia.
They left Charlie to get down how he could, and started at a sharp pace to meet and intercept Pompey. Now, if Pompey had continued his course behind the hedge all the way, he must have got to Caesar’s camp first; as Caesar could not crush through the hedge. But when Pompey came to the gate, from which the waggon track issued into the field, he saw that he could make a short cut thence to the gap by Caesar’s camp, instead of marching round the irregular curve of the hedge. Caesar, though running fast to meet him, was at that moment passing a depression in the ground, and was out of sight. Pompey seized so favourable an opportunity, came through the gate, and ordering “Quick march!” ran towards the gap. When Caesar came up out of the depression he saw Pompey’s whole army running with their backs almost turned away from him towards the gap by the camp. They seemed to flee, and Caesar’s legions beholding their enemies’ backs, raised a shout. Pompey heard, and looking round, saw Caesar charging towards his rear. He halted and faced about, and at the same time saw that his own camp was in Caesar’s possession; for there was an eagle at the gate there, and his baggage was being pitched over. Nothing daunted, Pompey ordered his soldiers to advance, and pushed them with his own hands into line, placing Crassus and Varro, one at either end.
As he came running, Caesar saw that the whole of Pompey’s army was before them, while he had but two-thirds of his, and regretted now that he had so hastily detached Scipio’s cohort. But waving his sword, he ran at the head of his men, keeping them in column. They were but a hundred yards apart, when Pompey faced about, and so short a distance was rapidly traversed.
Caesar’s sword was the first to descend with a crash upon an enemy’s weapon, but Antony was hardly a second later, and before they could lift to strike again, the legion behind, with a shout, pushed them by its impetus right through Pompey’s line.
When Caesar Bevis stopped running, and looked round, there was a break in the enemy’s army, which was divided into two parts. Bevis instantly made at the part on his left (where Phil Varro commanded), thinking, instinctively, to crush this half with all his soldiers. But as they did not know what his object was, for he had no time even to give an order, only four or five followed him. The rest paused and faced Val Crassus; and these Ted Pompey and six or seven of his men at once attacked.
Bevis met Phil Varro, and crossed swords with him. Clatter! crash! snap! thump! bang! They slashed and warded: Bevis’s shoulder was stung with a sharp blow. He struck back, and his sword sliding down Varro’s, broke the cross-piece, and rapped his fingers smartly. Before Varro could hit again, two others, fighting, stumbled across and interrupted the combat.