They assailed the ramparts.

The Pompeian reserve cohorts stood against them like men; the Thracian and other auxiliary light troops sent down clouds of missiles--of what avail?
There are times when mortal might can pass seas of fire and mountains of steel; and this was one of those moments.

The Pompeians were swept from the ramparts by a pitiless shower of javelins.

The panic still was upon them; standards of cohorts, eagles of legions, they threw them all away.

They fled--fled casting behind shields, helmets, swords, anything that hindered their running.