The months thus wasted by Cæsar’s lack of caution gave the Pompeian party a breathing-spell and the opportunity of taking fresh root in Africa. This was what necessitated the two additional campaigns, one in Africa and one in Spain. Had Cæsar, immediately after Pharsalus, turned sharply upon Pompey’s adherents; or had he taken four or five legions with him to Alexandria; or had he put aside the question of the rule of Egypt by a temporizing policy, and turned to the more important questions at hand, he would have saved himself vast future trouble.
The force he carried with him was absurdly inadequate. By extreme good luck alone was he able to seize the citadel and arsenal, and the tower on the Pharos, and thus save himself from collapse. “There seems to be nothing remarkable about the campaign,” says Napoleon. “Egypt might well have become, but for Cæsar’s wonderful good fortune, the very grave of his reputation.”
Cæsar was now called against Pharnaces, King of Pontus, who, during the distractions of the Civil War, was seeking to enlarge his territory. It was this five days’ campaign (Aug. 47) which led Cæsar to exclaim, “Veni, Vidi, Vici!” And here again he committed the blunder of opening a campaign with too small a force, and came within an ace of failure. Fortune saved Alexander in many acts of rashness; she was called on to rescue Cæsar from many acts of folly.
Cæsar had barely arrived in Rome when his presence was demanded in Africa to put down the coalition of Pompey’s lieutenants; and for the fourth time he was guilty of the same imprudence. In his over-ardor to reach the scene, he gave indefinite orders to his fleet, and once more landed on the African coast with but three thousand men in his immediate command, while the enemy had near at hand quadruple the force, and along the coast, within two or three days’ march, some fifty thousand men. But again Cæsar’s audacity stood in stead of legions, and gradually reënforcements came to hand (Dec. 47). Time fails to follow up this campaign. Full of all that characterizes the great man and greater captain, it not only excites our wonder, but puzzles us by alternate hypercaution and intellectual daring. After a series of movements extending over four months, during which he made constant use of field fortifications, much in our own manner, Cæsar absolutely overthrew the Pompeians (Apr. 46) at Thapsus and dispersed the coalition to the winds. Only the two sons of Pompey in Spain remained in arms.
An interesting fact in the campaigns of Cæsar, which cannot but impress itself on every American soldier, is the handiness of Cæsar’s legionaries in the use of pick and shovel. These entrenching tools, quite apart from fortifying the daily camp, seemed to be as important to the soldiers as their weapons or their shields. They often dug themselves into victory.
Cæsar’s manœuvring and fighting were equally good. The reason for some of his entrenching in Africa is hard to comprehend. Cæsar was a fighter in his way, but he often appeared disinclined to fight, even when his men were in the very mood to command success. He was so clever at manœuvring that he seemed to desire, for the mere art of the thing, to manœuvre his enemy into a corner before attack. His pausing at the opening of the battle of Thapsus has led to the remark, that while he prepared for the battle, it was his men who won it.
We cannot follow the Spanish campaign, which ended Cæsar’s military exploits, and which came to an end in the remarkable battle of Munda (March, 45), of which Cæsar remarked that he had often fought for victory, but here fought for life. We must treat of the man rather than events.
Cæsar had the inborn growth of the great captain. In the Civil War he made fewer errors than in the Gallic. His operations, all things considered, were well-nigh faultless. He first chose Rome, the most important thing, as his objective; and in sixty days, by mere moral ascendant, had got possession of the city. The enemy was on three sides of him, Spain, Africa, Greece,—he occupying the central position, and this he was very quick to see. He turned first on Spain, meanwhile holding Italy against Pompey by a curtain of troops. Spain settled, he moved over to Epirus with a temerity from which arch luck alone could save him, and, victorious here, he turned on Africa. There is no better example in history of the proper use of central lines on a gigantic scale, though the first recognition of these is often ascribed to Napoleon. In these splendid operations Cæsar made repeated errors of precipitancy,—at Dyrrachium, at Alexandria, in Pontus, in Africa. That, despite these errors, he was still victorious in so comparatively short a time he owes to his extraordinary ability, his simply stupendous good fortune, and the weakness of his opponents. In success he was brilliant, in disaster strong and elastic, and he never weakened in morale. It is adversity which proves the man.
Cæsar’s strategy was broad and far-seeing. His tactics were simple. There are no striking examples in his battles of tactical formations like Epaminondas’ oblique order at Leuctra, Alexander’s wedge at Arbela, Hannibal’s withdrawing salient at Cannæ. Though the military writers of this age exhibit great technical familiarity with tactical formations, Cæsar was uniformly simple in his.
From the beginning Cæsar grew in every department of the art of war. In strategy, tactics, fortification, sieges, logistics, he showed larger ability at the end of his career than at any previous time. To his personality his soldiers owed all they knew and all they were. Remarkable for discipline, esprit de corps, adaptiveness, toughness, patience in difficulty, self-denial, endurance and boldness in battle, attachment to and confidence in their general, his legionaries were an equal honor to Cæsar and to Rome, as they were a standing reproach to Roman rottenness in their splendid soldierly qualities. Pompey’s men could not compare with them in any sense, and this was because Pompey had made his soldiers and Cæsar had made his.