Pharsalos, Pharsalia, or Pharsalium, (anc. geog.), a town of the Phthiotis, a district of Thessaly, near Phere and Larissa, to which last place Pompey fled from the plains of Pharsalus; watered by the river Enipeus, which falls into the Apidanus, and both together into the Peneus. Between Pharsalus and Enipeus, Pompey drew up his men at the fatal battle of Pharsalia.

In this battle, the advantage with respect to numbers was greatly on the side of Pompey. That general himself was on the left with the two legions which Caesar had returned to him at the beginning of the war. Scipio, Pompey’s father-in-law, was in the centre, with the legions he had brought from Syria, and the reinforcements sent by several kings and states of Asia. The Cilician legion, and some cohorts, which had served in Spain, were in the right, under Pharalus, the command of Afranius. As Pompey’s right wing was covered by the Enipeus, he strengthened the left with his slingers, archers, and the 7000 Roman horse, on whom chiefly his party founded their hopes of victory. The whole army was drawn up in three lines, with very little spaces between them. In conformity to this disposition, Caesar’s army was drawn up in the following order: The tenth legion, which had on all occasions signalized themselves above all the rest, was placed in the right wing, and the ninth in the left; but as the latter had been considerably weakened in the action at Dyrrhachium, the eighth legion was posted so near it, as to be able to support and reinforce it upon occasion. The rest of Caesar’s forces filled up the space between the two wings. Marc Antony commanded the left wing, Sylla the right, and Cnecius Domitius Calvinus the main body. As for Caesar, he posted himself on the right over-against Pompey, that he might have him always in his sight.

Thus was the whole plain covered, from Pharsalia to the Enipeus, with two armies, dressed and armed after the same manner, and bearing the same ensigns, the Roman eagles. Pompey observing how well the enemy kept their ranks, expecting quietly the signal of battle, and on the contrary how impatient and uneasy his own men were, running up and down in great disorder for want of experience, he began to be afraid lest his ranks should be broken upon the first onset; and therefore commanded the foot in the front to keep their ground, and quietly wait for the enemy. The two armies, though within reach of each other, kept a mournful silence; but at length the trumpets sounded the charge, and Caesar’s army advanced in good order to begin the attack, being encouraged by the example of one Caius Cratilimus, a centurion, who at the head of 120 men threw himself upon the enemy’s first line with incredible fury. This he did to acquit himself of a promise he had solemnly made to Caesar, who, meeting him as he was going out of his tent in the morning, asked him, after some discourse, What his opinion was touching the event of the battle? To which he, stretching out his hand, replied aloud, Thine is the victory, Caesar; thou shalt gloriously conquer, quer, and I myself this day will be the subject of thy praise either dead or alive. In pursuance of this promise, he broke out of his rank, as soon as the trumpets sounded; and, at the head of his company, ran upon the enemy, and made a great slaughter of them. But while he was still pressing forward, forcing his way through the first line, one of Pompey's men ran him in at the mouth with such violence, that the point of his sword came out at the hind-part of his neck. Upon his death, Pompey's soldiers took courage, and with great bravery flood the enemy's onset. While the foot were thus sharply engaged in the centre, Pompey's horse in the left wing marched up confidently; and having first widened their ranks, with a design to surround Cæsar's right wing, charged his cavalry, and forced them to give ground. Hereupon Cæsar ordered his horse to retreat a little, and give way to the six cohorts, which he had posted in the rear as a body of reserve. These, upon a signal given, coming up, charged the enemy's horse with that resolution and good order which is peculiar to men who have spent all their lives in camps. They remembered their instructions, not striking at the legs or thighs of the enemy, but aiming only at their faces. This unexpected and new manner of fighting had the desired effect. For the young patricians, whom Cæsar contemptuously calls the pretty young dancers, not being able to bear the thoughts of having their faces deformed with fears, turned their backs, and, covering their faces with their hands, fled in the utmost confusion, leaving the foot at the mercy of the enemy. Cæsar's men did not pursue the fugitives; but charging the foot of that wing, now naked and unguarded, surrounded them, and cut most of them in pieces.

Pompey was so transported with rage, in seeing the flower of his forces thus put to flight or cut in pieces, that he left his army, and retired slowly towards his camp, looking more like a man distracted and beside himself, than one who by his exploits had acquired the name of the Great. When he had reached the camp, he retired to his tent, without speaking a word to any; and continued there, like one distracted and out of his senses, till his whole army was defeated. Cæsar no sooner saw himself master of the field, than he marched to attack the enemy's entrenchments, that Pompey might not have time to recollect himself. When Pompey was informed that his rival was advancing to attack his entrenchments, he then first seemed to have recovered his senses, and cried out, What into my camp too? He said no more; but immediately laying aside the marks of his dignity, and putting on such a garment as might best favour his flight, he stole out at the decuman gate, and took the road to Larissa, which city had hitherto shewn great attachment to him. In the mean time, Cæsar began the attack on the enemy's camp, which was vigorously defended by the cohorts Pompey had left to guard it; but they were at length forced to yield. Cæsar was not a little surprized, when, after having forced the entrenchments, he found the enemy's tents and pavilions richly adorned with carpets and hangings, their couches strewed with flowers, their tables ready spread, and side-boards set out with abundance of plate, bowls, and glasses, and some of them even filled with wine.

So great was the confidence of Pompey's party, that they made preparations before-hand for pleasures to be enjoyed after the victory, which they thought certain. In Pompey's tent, Cæsar found the box in which he kept his letters; but, with a moderation and magnanimity worthy of himself, he burnt them all, without reading one; saying, that he had rather be ignorant of crimes, than obliged to punish them.

The next day, when the dead were numbered, it appeared that Cæsar had scarce lost 200 men; among whom was about 30 centurions, whom Cæsar caused to be buried with great solemnity. He did particular honours to the body of Crassus, who had begun the battle; and ordered his ashes to be deposited in a tomb, which he erected to his memory. On Pompey's side, the number of the dead amounted to 15,000 according to some, and to 25,000 according to others. Cæsar took 24,000 prisoners, eight eagles, and 180 ensigns.