PREFACE
The present monograph is the outcome of a certain dissatisfaction
felt with the traditional view as expressed in some
of the literature which appeared six years ago on the occasion
of the nineteen-hundredth anniversary of the battle of the
Teutoburg forest. The principal theses as here presented were
jotted down at the time, and although a variety of circumstances
prevented their immediate elaboration, they were not
forgotten, collections of literature were made from time to time,
as occasion offered, and the general course of argument outlined.
In 1912 Mr. Cyrus S. Gentry, then a graduate student
in this university, working under the supervision of Mr. Oldfather,
prepared and submitted, in partial fulfilment of the
requirements for the degree of Master of Arts in Classics, a
thesis entitled: “The Effect of the Defeat of Varus upon the
Imperial Policy of Rome regarding the Northern Frontier.”
We desire to express our thanks to Mr. Gentry for kind permission
to use some of his collections of material. The present
work is, however, a wholly independent production, being much
more extensive and detailed, and differing substantially in plan
and scope. Active work upon the present study was begun by
us in cooperation in the spring of 1914, and continued, with
intermissions, to the present time.
In the first part, which deals with the traditional view, we
have gone into some detail in the presentation and criticism
of current explanations, with the hope that, as a review of present
and past opinion, it may not be without value, even if our
new interpretation fail to receive general acceptance. A certain
amount of repetition in the two parts of the monograph
has thus been rendered unavoidable, but though this may at
times prove tiresome, it contributes to the clearness of the argument,
which is, after all, the chief consideration.
To some it may perhaps seem unfortunate that a discussion
of such a subject as this should appear at a time when the
German nation is involved in a momentous conflict. We do not
so feel. Disinterested scholarship should not be affected by
transitory or even permanent emotions. We are confident that
our work has not been so affected. That we have been compelled
in scientific candor to destroy a certain glamor which has been
attributed to an early period of German history, has not the
slightest bearing upon our attitude toward German character
and achievement, for which we entertain the most sincere
respect. Our investigation deals not with the quality of the
deed of Arminius, but only with its historical consequences,
two utterly unrelated aspects. It is surely no discredit that an
act of heroism should not be also big with destiny. Over consequences
no man has control. The modern German nation needs,
perhaps less than any other, the lustre of a long buried past
to shed renown upon the present.
We take pleasure in acknowledging our indebtedness to
Professor A. S. Pease of the Department of Classics, who has
kindly read all the manuscript in proof.
W. A. O.
H. V. C.
The University of Illinois
May 24, 1915
CHAPTER I Introduction and General View of the Question — FOOTNOTES
Historians and other writers in discussing the defeat of
Varus, and its bearing upon the subsequent history of Rome and
Germany, are almost united in the belief that Augustus, until
the events of the year 9 A. D., had in view the complete subjugation
of Germany as far as the river Elbe. Gardthausen[1]
unhesitatingly predicates the emperor’s intention in the following
words: “er wollte das Land östlich vom Rhein und nördlich
von der Donau mit seinem Reiche vereinigen, um ihm eine bessere
Grenze zu geben.” Mommsen everywhere expresses the traditional
view. In discussing Drusus’ command of the year 13
B. C. against the Germans he says:[2] “Drusus ... übernahm
bei Augustus Rückkehr nach Italien (741) die Verwaltung
von Gallien und den Oberbefehl gegen die Germanen, deren
Unterwerfung jetzt ernstlich in das Auge gefasst ward.” Further
on[3] Drusus’ successor, Tiberius, is represented as having succeeded
in making this subjugation: “weit und breit zwischen
Rhein und Elbe zeigten sich die römischen Truppen, und als
Tiberius die Forderung stellte, dass sämmtliche Gaue die
römische Herrschaft förmlich anzuerkennen hätten ... fügten
sie sich ohne Ausnahme.” Again, Mommsen[4] calls Arminius
the leader in the conflict of despair over the lost national
independence, and speaks[5] of the campaign of the year 16 A. D.
as the last which the Romans waged in order to subdue Germany
and to transfer the boundary from the Rhine to the Elbe. Delbrück’s
position on the question is unequivocal[6]. So is that
of Schiller.[7] Hübner[8] voices the surprising belief that Augustus
in his effort to subdue Germany was merely following in the
steps of Julius Caesar! Koepp[9] hazards the same view, and says
that not only was the shortening of the Rhine boundary planned
by Caesar, but that this plan was to have been carried into
execution after the overthrow of the Getae; that nothing but
more pressing duties prevented Caesar’s heir, for thirty years
after Gaul’s subjugation, from pushing the boundary beyond
the Rhine; that the settling of the Ubii on the left bank of the
Rhine by Agrippa (19 B. C.) was not a backward step from
that taken in crossing the Rhine in 37 B. C., but a mere confession
that only in this way could Rome protect the Ubii from
the attack of their neighbors.
Seeck[10] and many others assert that not only was Germany
subdued by Rome, but that Roman administration was
actually set up in the new province.[11] This is stated by Knoke as
follows:[12] “Das germanische Gebiet konnte bis zur Elbe als
unterworfen gelten ... Römische Verwaltung und Gerichtsbarkeit
waren eingeführt, die Deutschen zu Heeresfolge
und Tribut gezwungen ... nach menschlichem Ermessen
musste für das deutsche Volk die Zeit gekommen sein, wo es auf
immer der Herrschaft Roms verfallen war.” However, there
is no general agreement as to when Augustus conceived the plan
of conquering Germany. Hertzberg[13] believes it doubtful
whether he had any such intention at the time of Lollius’ defeat
(16 B. C.): “Ob er wirklich schon jetzt die Eroberung
Deutschlands bestimmt ins Auge gefasst hat, ist uns—wir wiederholen
es—freilich zweifelhaft.” Abraham’s conclusion is that
as late even as 10 B. C. Augustus had no further purpose than
to secure the Rhine boundary, but that later he had larger ambitions
which were fully realized: “Später indessen hat
Augustus wirklich Deutschland bis zur Elbe ... zur Provinz
machen wollen, und vor der Niederlage des Varus sah er die
Unterwerfung Norddeutschlands für vollendet an.”[14] Many
believe that an effort was made on Augustus’ part to shorten
the Rhine-Danube boundary, and they regard this as tantamount
to an attempt to subjugate Germany.[15] The campaigns of
Drusus and Tiberius in particular are usually cited as proofs
of Rome’s purpose with respect to Germany. So by Pelham[16]:
“Nor can we doubt that the object of the campaigns carried on
beyond the Rhine by Augustus’ two stepsons, Drusus and Tiberius
(13 B.C.-6 A.D.), had for their object the extension of
Roman rule up to that [the Elbe] river.” Occasionally, however,
more caution is shown in discussing Rome’s policy. So
Abbott[17]: “To the north the frontier policy of Augustus was,
at the outset, less clearly determined. For a time the Romans
seem to have intended making the Elbe the line between them
and the Germans.” Ferrero, although he devotes a chapter of
his well-known work[18] to the “Conquest of Germania,” concedes,
nevertheless, that Augustus was opposed to expansion by conquest,
and that the first fifteen years of his rule unmistakably
contradict such a policy[19]: “he had persistently avoided hazardous
adventures beyond the frontiers of the empire and had found
a thousand pretexts to deceive the impatience and ambition of
the people.” We may observe also that Eduard Meyer’s view[20]
is not wholly in harmony with the commonly accepted one. He
objects to the assertion frequently made that the victory of
Arminius preserved the individuality of the German nation:
“Wenn wir ... die Frage aufwerfen, wie es gekommen
ist, dass den romanischen Völkern germanische zur Seite
stehen, dass ich hier deutsch zu Ihnen rede und nicht in einer
romanischen Sprache, so wird einer vorurteilslose Erwägung
nicht die Schlacht im Teutoburger Wald nennen dürfen.” And
although he insists on the necessity resting upon Augustus to
war against the Germans in order to preserve Gaul, to maintain
peace, and to secure a shorter and more distant frontier at the
Elbe, he makes it clear that the war was in no sense prompted
by the desire for imperial expansion[21]: “aber auch dieser Krieg
ist durchaus nur als Grenzkrieg geführt worden, nicht als ein
Reichskrieg an der Art wie Cäsar seinen Geten- und Partherkrieg
geplant hatte.”
Nevertheless, from a careful consideration of the foregoing
opinions, which have been selected merely as representative of
a very large number of similar expressions, we may discover a
strikingly universal belief that before the battle of the Teutoburg
forest Augustus was attempting the conquest of Germany;
that the disaster which overtook the legions of Varus in this
battle caused him to give up his plans, and to renounce all hope
of making Germany a province[22]. Most historians claim in addition
that Arminius was the preserver of the German nationality,
and that his victory over Varus was a turning point in the
world’s history. So Seeck[23]: “Der Sieg des Armin hat es für
alle Zeiten verhindert, dass auch die Germanen Bürger des
Reiches wurden und so den Keim gerettet, aus dem künftig die
Völkerwanderung und mit ihr eine neue Welt erwachsen sollte.”
Gardthausen[24] states the same belief in still stronger terms:
“Wenn wir daher jetzt, also beinahe nach 2000 Jahren, noch von
einer deutschen Nation reden, wenn es noch heute eine deutsche
Sprache gibt, so ist das ohne Frage, zum grossen Theile, das Verdienst
des Arminius ... kurz, die Entwickelung der
deutschen Geschichte und in beschränkterem Masse auch der
Weltgeschichte wäre eine andere geworden, wenn Arminius nicht
zur rechten Zeit den Kampf mit dem Varus aufgenommen und
wenn er nicht später—was noch schwerer war—den Siegespreis
der Freiheit gegen Germanicus vertheidigt hätte.” The debt
of the German nation, and the world at large, to Arminius, is
proclaimed again and again in monographs, remarkable as
exhibitions of patriotic fervor, but at times wanting in scientific
spirit and in the objective temper that should characterize estimates
of historical significance.[25] Mommsen and Koepp may be
cited as the most distinguished representatives of the view that
the battle of the Teutoburg forest is a turning point in national
destinies, an ebbing in the tide of Rome’s sway over the world,
a shifting of the bounds of Roman rule from the Elbe to the
Rhine and the Danube.[26] Koepp is the more guarded. He
says[27], “Seit dieser Niederlage scheint Roms Macht, auf dieser
Seite wenigstens, zurückzuebben, und wie ein Wendepunkt der
Weltgeschichte erscheint diese Schlacht im Teutoburger Walde.”
But this view has currency elsewhere than in the writings of
German authors. Thomas Arnold voices it[28] with all the extravagance
that characterizes rash generalizations: “The victory of
Arminius deserves to be reckoned among those signal deliverances
which have affected for centuries the happiness of mankind;
and we may regard the destruction of Quintilius Varus,
and his three legions, on the bank of the Lippe, as second only
in the benefits derived from it to the victory of Charles Martel
at Tours over the invading host of the Mohammedans.” We
find it, as one might expect, in a text of such unscientific character
as that of Creasy[29], the motto for whose discussion is an
epigrammatic sentence taken from the epitomator Florus, “Hac
clade factum, ut imperium quod in littore oceani non steterat,
in ripa Rheni fluminis staret.” And we need feel no surprise
that this view is perpetuated in such a compilation as that of
P. V. N. Meyers.[30] Here and there, however, are to be found
writers who warn against such a sweeping generalization. So
Eduard Meyer, who has been quoted above.[31] Ferrero too shows
a saner historical view when he says[32]: “Historians have long
been accustomed to regard the defeat of Varus as one of the
‘decisive’ battles of the world, and as an event which may be
said to have changed the course of history. It is said, that if
Varus had not been overthrown, Rome would have preserved her
grip upon the territory from the Rhine to the Elbe and would
have romanised it as she did Gaul: the prospects of a Germanic
nationality and civilization would have been as impossible as
those of a Celtic nationality and civilization after the defeat of
Vercingetorix. Thus the defeat of Teutoburg is said to have
saved Germanism even as that of Alesia was the ruin of the old
Celtic nationalism. This straightforward line of argument, however,
touches the sinuous course of reality only at a few points,
and those far distant from one another. It is always a dangerous
task, in dealing with history, to say what might have happened,
in view of the considerable difficulty involved in the
attempt to explain what did happen.”[33] It should be observed
also that such a generalization involves the assumption that the
German nation developed as it did because of its liberation from
Roman influence, whereas it may properly be argued that the
so-called liberation was instrumental in separating Germany for
centuries from civilizing contact with Rome. For it is a fact
that the early Germans made no progress whatever, left no literature,
no monument, no memory of themselves until they again
came into relations with that great transmitter of civilization,
Rome, in the person of Rome’s new representative, Charlemagne.[34]
Now it is of course obvious that the estimate of Arminius’
achievement will depend upon the significance which impartial
criticism will assign to the battle in which Varus was defeated—Arminius’
one great deed. Regarding that we propose in the
present monograph to show that the ancient accounts of the
battle of the Teutoburg forest are of inferior authority; that
while some of them are broadly detailed, they are on the whole
meager, inconsistent, and full of errors, exaggerations, and
absurdities; that a striving after rhetorical effect is their
peculiar characteristic;[35] that frequently what these sources
say in express words is not objectively trustworthy, and still
less so are the deductions made immediately from the descriptions
found there, or from the delineations which the authors of
the sources doubtless never intended to serve as objective pictures
of reality;[36] that only the less cautious writers assert that
Augustus in a spirit of imperialism sought to conquer Germany;[37]
that historians who have the best standing as authorities
abandon this ground and give as a reason the necessity resting
on Augustus of protecting Gaul and Italy from the Germans.
An effort will be made to show that Germany was never made
a Roman province; that Augustus never had the intention, and
never made the attempt, to conquer Germany and organize it
as a province; that his operations in Germany consisted merely
in making a series of demonstrations in force, in order to impress
the barbarians and to facilitate the defense of the frontier by
pacifying and bringing into friendly relations with Rome a wide
strip of the enemy’s territory.
It is but natural, when such exaggerated estimates are current
regarding the significance of the battle of the Teutoburg
forest, that the leading figure on the German side, Arminius,
should be elevated to a position of quite fictitious glory, and that
he should have been exalted to the rank of one of the world’s
greatest heroes.[38] As Koepp pertinently observes, many well-meant
accounts of the Teutoburg battle have been written
under mere impulse of national feeling.[39] However, that the
glorification of heroes at the expense of truth finds no place
in sober historical investigation is the warning given by the best
trained German scholars themselves, and by none more effectively
than by Koepp[40], who said to an assembly of scholars at
an Arminius Jubilee celebration held at Detmold, October 22,
1908: “eher dürften wir heute unseren Helden aus der bengalischen
Beleuchtung romantischer Schwärmerei in das Tageslicht
geschichtlicher Betrachtung rücken, ohne uns gegen die Jubiläumsstimmung
zu versündigen. Es ist ja auch Vorrecht und
Pflicht der Wissenschaft, auch an festlichen Tagen der Wahrheit
die Ehre zu geben.” So Fustel de Coulanges complains that
in Arminius’ case historians have taken liberty with historical
facts under motives of idealization[41]: “Nous désapprouvons
les historiens allemands, qui ont altéré l’histoire pour
créer, un Arminius legendaire et une Germanie idéale.” Finally,
we may note that the same authority warns also in more general
terms of historians who allow patriotic motives to exaggerate
the few facts at their disposal.[42]
CHAPTER II Sources — FOOTNOTES
The only ancient accounts that have come down to us which
throw light on the battle of the Teutoburg forest are: Cassius
Dio, 56, 18-23; Velleius, II, 117-120; Florus, II, 30, 21-39; Tacitus,
Annales, I, 60-62. These we must now compare with each
other, with the purpose of determining their weight and credibility
in the light of what we know of the authors, of the time
and circumstances under which they wrote, and of the purpose
had in view.[1]
Cassius Dio (ca. 150-ca. 235 A. D.) is the only one of
these ancient writers who has given us anything like a connected
account of the catastrophe.[2] Although he wrote in Greek, Dio
must be regarded as a Roman, being the son of a Roman senator,
and himself filling the office of praetor and consul. His industry—he
spent ten years (200-210 A. D.) in accumulating material
for his history—and his various activities, as a practical soldier
and politician, made his work much more than a mere compilation.
While not remarkable for historical insight it represents
what Dio sincerely believed to be the truth. Nevertheless,
Dio was a product of the rhetorical schools and under the spell
of their influence he wrote. His battle scenes are rhetorical
exercises.[3] Noticeable also is his inclination toward a lively
narration of events of a military character, a tendency which
causes him to depart from the bare truth of his sources, and to
ornament them with sensational descriptions after the rhetorical
manner.[4] Delbrück notes that our sources for the wars of
the Romans with the Germans are almost all from second, third,
or fourth hand, and that Dio’s account was written at the very
time when the rhetorical spirit most completely dominated literature.
Dio, as well as our other sources for these years, is to be
used with caution, since these writers regarded historical composition
as preeminently an opus oratorium, and sought first of
all to hold the reader’s attention by brilliant characterizations
and striking descriptions.
To Velleius (ca. 19 B. C.-ca. 30 A. D.), the only contemporary
author who tells of the Varus disaster, we are indebted for a
brief account.[5] A loyal officer with a military record behind
him, a dilettante with undeniable studium, Velleius, in the reign
of Tiberius, turned to the writing of history. As prefect of
horse he accompanied Tiberius to Germany, where he served
“per annos continuos novem praefectus aut legatus.”[6] His
fervid loyalty and extravagance cause him to magnify everything
that concerns Tiberius to such a degree that he is scarcely
more than a partisan memoir writer. In his hasty sketches of
military campaigns in Germany and Pannonia, full of blunders
and inconsistencies, it is clear that he is but little concerned
with the exact establishment of facts. With no appreciation
of the internal connection of things, and no ability to sift evidence,
he centers his interest almost entirely upon individuals
for purpose of praise or blame, and excels as a rhetorical anecdotist,
and as a delineator of individual actors. His inflated
style, his straining after effect by hyperbole, antithesis, epigram,
and piquancies of all kinds, mark the degenerate taste of the
Silver Age, of which he is the earliest representative.[7] His
reflections and observations generally outweigh the information
given. Velleius’ training, the occasion of his composition, the
attempt to satisfy the taste of his age, all make him a source,
which, because of distortions and overemphasis, cannot be
accepted at full value.
L. Annaeus Florus, usually identified with the rhetorician
and poet of Hadrian’s time, wrote (probably in 137 A. D.) an
abridgement in two short books of Rome’s wars from the foundation
of the city to the era of Augustus. As to Florus’ purpose
in writing, and his rating as a rhetorician, scholars are agreed.[8]
He composed solely from rhetorical motives[9], hence historical
truth is frequently misrepresented, both intentionally and unintentionally,
in a work full of errors, confusions, and
contradictions.[10] Florus’ work is declamatory in tone, shows no traces
of independent investigation, and little of the calm, even temper
demanded of the historian. In his search for the surprising,
the unusual, and the spirited, he is frequently led into exaggerations.
He is given to the use of superlatives and enhancing
epithets, as ingens, immensus, incredibilis, perpetuus, etc., and
that he was himself conscious of exaggerations is clear from
his free use of such words as quippe, seventy-five times, and
quasi, more than a hundred times. In Florus each event is
presented as a marvellous fact, and no better commentary on
the poverty and unsatisfactoriness of our sources for the Varus
disaster could be found than the fact that to Florus many
writers have given the honor of being our chief authority.[11]
It is apparent to the most superficial reader that the
accounts given by our sources—especially those by Cassius Dio
and Florus—are contradictory[12], notwithstanding the efforts
that have been made to show that there is no conflict between
them.[13] According to Dio, supported by Tacitus, the attack was
made on Varus while he was on the march, whereas Florus says
that Varus was seated in his camp quietly dispensing justice,
when he was surprised by the German host.[14] Further, a
detailed examination of the several accounts, sundry particulars
of which we have no other means of testing, reveals so many
inconsistencies and improbabilities that we are scarcely justified
in accepting more than the bare defeat of Varus, the popular
tradition of which was later incorporated into the studiously
dramatic sketches of the rhetorical historians who serve as our
sources. For example, Dio tells us[15] that the Germans craftily
enticed Varus away from the Rhine and by conducting themselves
in a peaceful and friendly manner lulled him into a feeling
of security. This enticement is not mentioned by the other
writers, and is in itself improbable[16], as Roman generals had
frequently down to this time marched much further into the
interior without any enticement whatsoever. It becomes doubly
suspicious when we note the excellent rhetorical effect it produces
by bringing into greater relief the setting of the disaster, and
Varus’ sudden reversal of fortune. Again, Dio makes the statement
that Varus and all his highest officers committed suicide.[17]
If this remarkable event took place, it is almost wholly
inconceivable that it should have found no mention in Velleius
and Florus, the former of whom stood much nearer in time to
the event. On the other hand, both of these writers relate that
Varus’ body was treated with indignity by the savage foe, and
according to Velleius, one prefect died honorably in battle, and
one preferred to surrender, while Varus’ legate, Numonius Vala,
treacherously deserted. Dio’s description of the battle, moreover,
is in sharp contradiction to that revealed by Tacitus’ account of
conditions in Varus’ camp, as discovered by Germanicus in
the year 15 A. D. The first camp that he came upon was one
which, by its wide circuit and the measurement of its headquarters,
showed the work of three legions, i. e. of an undiminished
army; then came a second camp, with half-fallen rampart and
shallow trench, where the diminished remnant were understood
to have sunken down, i. e. the camp was laid out after a day’s
loss with heavy fighting. Finally, Germanicus found in the plain
the whitening bones, scattered or accumulated, just as Varus’
men had fled or made their stand in the final catastrophe.[18]
Tacitus’ description of a regular camp, the “wide circuit and
headquarters” on a scale suitable for the whole force, is utterly
inconsistent with the statement of Dio that the first camp was
pitched “after securing a suitable place so far as that was possible
on a wooded mountain.” And so is there contradiction in
Tacitus’ statement that the legions suffered loss only after moving
on from the first encampment. For according to Dio their
greatest suffering and losses were on the first day’s march before
their first encampment; on the second the loss, he tells us, was
less because they had burned or abandoned the greater number
of their wagons, and hence advanced in better order.
According to Florus it was while Varus was in his summer
camp holding court that suddenly the Germans broke in upon
him. Mommsen is undoubtedly correct in saying that this ridiculous
representation does not reflect real tradition, but a picture
of sheer fancy manufactured out of it. Doubtless it is nothing
but a rhetorical exaggeration of the silly security into which
Varus is represented as having been inveigled, and by which
the disaster is dramatically brought about. It is past credibility
that the Germans in such numbers could have broken into the
Roman camp without arousing suspicion, or without having come
into contact with the Roman sentries. And the more so if Varus
had already been warned by Segestes of the enemy’s plans.
Further, the storming of a single camp is out of harmony with
the two camps mentioned by Tacitus, and clearly implied in
Dio’s narrative. And it is difficult to believe that Varus would
choose such a place for his summer camp—one shut in by forests,
swamps, and untrodden ways. The entire description of
the place where the battle was fought is far more in keeping with
a camp pitched by an army on the march, than with a summer
camp, in which Varus exercised the functions of a judicial office.
Moreover, Florus’ account is contradicted by Velleius[19], who
says that Ceionius, one of the prefects of Varus’ camp, wished to
surrender to the enemy just at the time when a large part of the
Roman army had fallen in battle. Now if this refers to the
first camp, in which the Romans must have left a detachment
(for which there is no direct evidence), then the main part of
the army must have come out in orderly wise, and no unexpected
surprise at the hands of the Germans could have occurred. Or,
if it refers to the second camp, it was clearly not the summer
camp, as Florus relates.
Florus’ account is by no means a bare narration of events,
nor does he bring forward events in their sequence. His choice
both of materials and the grouping of facts is with reference
to the leading thought. The very words introducing the story
of the Germanic wars show that they serve as the theme for the
part that follows: “Germaniam quoque utinam vincere tanti
non putasset! magis turpiter amissa est quam gloriose adquisita.”
The same is true of the words by which he passes on to
the events under Varus’ rule: “sed difficilius est provinciam
obtinere quam facere.”[20] Having assumed that Augustus conquered
Germany, Florus seeks to maintain the thesis that the
government of a province is a difficult undertaking; that Varus
took the task all too lightly, and as a result Germany was
ignominiously lost. It is significant that Florus is the only
author who asserts that Augustus wished to conquer Germany.
And the reason assigned for this conquest is as follows: “set
quatenus sciebat patrem suum C. Caesarem bis transvectum
ponte Rhenum quaesisse bellum, in illius honorem concupierat
facere provinciam.”[21] It is absurd to believe that Augustus
ever intended to make a province of Germany for so puerile a
reason as merely to honor Julius Caesar, for the latter “had not
charged the heirs of his dictatorial power with the extension
of Roman territory on the north slope of the Alps and on the
right banks of the Rhine so directly as with the conquest of
Britain.”[22] If Augustus had desired to make a province in
honor of his father, he would doubtless have conquered Britain
instead, in accordance with Caesar’s supposed wish. Julius
Caesar’s expeditions against the Germans were, as stated by
Mommsen himself[23], merely forward movements of defense. And
it seems reasonable to assume that Augustus did not, as Florus
tells us, wish to conquer Germany, but was merely continuing
in a more extensive manner the policy of his father.
How untrustworthy Florus is as an authority may be seen
from the following: “quippe Germani victi magis quam domiti
erant moresque nostros magis quam arma sub imperatore Druso
suspiciebant; postquam ille defunctus est, Vari Quintilli libidinem
ac superbiam haut secus quam saevitiam odisse coeperunt.”[24]
That is, according to Florus, Varus follows Drusus
directly as commander in Germany, in spite of the fact that
there intervene between them three commanders, and a long
series of important events.[25] The reason for this statement
is Florus’ indifference to mere facts, and his desire to harp on
the theme “difficilius est provinciam obtinere quam facere,”
and hence to bring into sharp contrast the man who won that
territory and the man who was directly responsible for its loss.[26]
Florus’ method is observable elsewhere. According to Velleius
the Germans purposely introduced a series of fictitious lawsuits
and legal contests to throw Varus off his guard. It suits Florus’
purpose, however, to represent them as having recourse to arms
at once, as soon as they saw the toga, and felt that laws were
more cruel than arms. He thus illustrates in a rhetorical way
the sudden and unexpected perils which beset one who attempts
the difficult task of maintaining authority over a province. Further
evidence of Florus’ inaccuracy is found in his statement
that “to this day the barbarians are in possession of the two
eagles.” They had as a matter of fact been recovered long
before the time at which he wrote, two in the time of Tiberius[27],
and the third during the reign of Claudius.[28] With this fact
established, Florus’ story to the effect that one of the standards
was saved at the time of the disaster is seen to be without any
basis of truth. Finally, attention may be called to Florus’ concluding
statement: “hac clade factum est ut imperium, quod
in litore Oceani non steterat, in ripa Rheni fluminis staret.”
This has no value save that of a glittering rhetorical antithesis,
but like other statements in the account, has exercised far more
than due influence upon writers who discuss the effect of Varus’
defeat upon Rome’s imperial policy.
Velleius’ undisguised flattery of Tiberius warns us that
even a contemporary source must be used with caution. His
account shows that his one great purpose is to praise Tiberius,
and place him in a favorable light. To shed the greater luster
on his hero he reveals a marked animus against Varus, whose
command in Germany immediately preceded Tiberius’ second
term of service there. Note the depreciatory tone in which
Varus is spoken of, a man who in his stupidity imagined that
the inhabitants of Germany were not human beings save in
voice and body, and that men who could not be subdued by the
sword might be civilized by law; likewise the persistent malice
which runs through his account of the loss of Varus’ legions,
a dreadful calamity brought about by the incompetence and
indolence of the leader; an army unrivalled in bravery, the
flower of Roman troops in discipline, vigor, and experience,
some of whom were severely punished by their general for
using Roman arms with Roman spirit, chastised by a general
who showed some courage in dying though none in fighting.
Immediately following this is a sketch of the mighty deeds in
Germany done by Tiberius, the constant patron of the Roman
empire, who undertook its cause as usual. And the next chapter
relates that the same courage and good fortune which had animated
Tiberius at the beginning of his command still continued
with him.
Certain disagreements between Tacitus’ account of the
Varus disaster and that of our other sources have already been
cited.[29] But of even more importance for our discussion is
Tacitus’ warm personal eulogy of Arminius at the notice of his
death.[30] There can be no doubt that this tribute has done much
to perpetuate the traditional view as to the effect of Varus’
defeat. The observation has often been made that Tacitus’ sympathies
were strongly inclined toward the aristocratic Republic;[31]
that notwithstanding his conviction that the Republic had
become impossible and the monarchy necessary[32], the terrors and
indignities of Domitian’s reign embittered his whole thought;[33]
that although he felt that the beneficent rule of Nerva and
Trajan offered to the Roman state the best possible combination
of liberty and authority[34], “those happy and glorious times
when men were able to think what they would and say what
they thought”[35], the dark colors, the severe and uncompromising
judgment found in Tacitus’ representation of the whole imperial
period covered by the Annals owe not a little of their gloom to
the sense that the acts of the early emperors were in anticipation
of, even a direct preparation for, the wretchedness and bitter
degradation which Tacitus himself felt at the hands of Domitian.[36]
Having at best little or no sympathy with the early
emperors, and living in a time of great imperial expansion,
Tacitus has only contempt for the prudent foreign policy of
Augustus.[37] He regards it as a weakness of all the emperors[38]
that down to the days of Nerva and Trajan they took no pains
to extend the empire. But for the two generals in whom he
discovered some inclination to renew the traditions of conquest
he has warm admiration. Observe the complacency with which
he dwells upon the campaigns of Germanicus and Corbulo, and
upon these alone, in his history of the early empire. These two
characters he treats with sympathy and admiration bordering
on affection.[39] And just as Tacitus is hearty in his praise of
those features of German social life which reflect obliquely on the
life of the Roman aristocracy[40], so he regards as a hero the energetic
and martial Arminius, who destroyed three legions of the
conservative Augustus, led by the supine and incompetent
Varus.
It is worth while to notice the basis for Tacitus’ generalization,
“liberator haud dubie Germaniae.” Does Tacitus here
summarize correctly the facts as given by him of Rome’s conflict
with Germany under the leadership of Varus and his successors?[41]
Did Arminius become a liberator by virtue of the
defeat of Varus? Or by the defeat of Varus’ successors? Is it
correct to infer that Arminius was oftentimes victorious, when
only one instance is cited of a clear defeat for the Romans? An
examination of Tacitus’ narrative forces a negative to each of
these inquiries. His first mention of Arminius is as a leader
of one of the German parties—Segestes was leader of the rival
faction—against whom Germanicus was operating in the campaign
of 15 A. D.[42] In this year Germanicus fell suddenly upon
the Chatti, many of whom were captured or killed, while others
abandoned their villages and fled to the woods. Their capital,
Mattium, was burned, and their country ravaged before Germanicus
marched back to the Rhine.[43] Then acting on an appeal
from Segestes for relief against the violence of Arminius, Germanicus
marched back and fought off the besiegers of Segestes,
who was rescued, together with his followers and relatives,
among them his daughter, the wife of Arminius.[44] Next, after
Arminius had aroused the Cherusci and bordering tribes, Germanicus,
having dispatched a part of his army under lieutenants,
who utterly defeated the Bructeri[45], himself pursued Arminius
until he retired into pathless wastes.[46] The Germans, after
engaging and harassing the Romans in the swamps, were finally
overpowered and the slaughter continued as long as daylight
lasted.[47] Tacitus adds that although the Romans were distressed
by want of provisions and wounds, yet in their great victory
they found everything, vigor, health, and abundance.
With the year 16 A. D. Germanicus, supported by the ardent
enthusiasm of his soldiers, sought further engagements with
the Germans, remembering that they were always worsted in a
regular battle and on ground adapted to fighting.[48] The Chatti,
who at this time were besieging a Roman stronghold on the
river Lippe, stole away and disappeared at the report of the
Roman approach. Finally, however, the Germans dared to
meet the Romans in the plain of Idistaviso, near the river Weser,
Tacitus, after giving a detailed account of the dreadful slaughter
which here befell the Germans[49], says that it was a great
victory for the Romans and without loss on their part. Not
less disastrous to the Germans was a succeeding Roman victory on
grounds chosen by the Germans.[50] But after the losses by storm
that overtook the Roman legions on their return by fleet to winter
quarters[51], the Germans were encouraged to renew their attacks.
Again Germanicus marched against the Chatti and the
Marsi, who either did not dare to engage, or wherever they did engage
were instantly defeated, exclaiming that the Romans were
invincible and superior to any misfortune.[52] Tacitus tells us
that at the conclusion of the conflict the Roman army was led
back into winter quarters full of joy that this expedition
had compensated for their misfortune at sea. Significant
are his concluding words: “nor was it doubted that the enemy
were tottering to their fall and concerting means for obtaining
peace, and that if another summer were added the war could
be brought to completion.”[53] Immediately following this we
read of Germanicus’ recall by Tiberius to celebrate his triumph,
and to enter on a second consulship, no further operations being
conducted against the Germans. Tacitus hints that this step
was taken by Tiberius through envy of Germanicus. But
whether for this reason or for the far more probable one,
assigned by Tiberius himself[54], it is evident to any one following
the story as told by Tacitus that Arminius was not a liberator
of Germany, either by his defeat of Varus or through the conflict
that he waged against Varus’ successors. Tacitus’ account
shows on the one hand that the Romans were not concerned about
securing permanent possessions in Germany, and on the other
that with but one exception the Romans were victorious throughout
the conflict. But in tracing the biography of Arminius further
Tacitus recounts that on the departure of the Romans the
German tribes, the Suebi led by Maroboduus, who had assumed
the title of king, and the Cherusci, led by Arminius, the champion
of the people, turned their swords against each other;[55]
that, however, after the defeat of Maroboduus, Arminius aiming
at royalty became antagonistic to the liberty of his countrymen,
and fell by the treachery of his own kinsmen.[56] The opportunity
here for a rhetorical antithesis between Arminius the foe of his
country’s liberty and Arminius its erstwhile champion, Tacitus
could not resist. Hence, “liberator haud dubie Germaniae,”
notwithstanding the fact that this bold assertion has no basis in
what has gone before. A Roman historian under the spell of
rhetoric did not as a rule hesitate to adjust his conclusions in
the interest of dramatic portrayal of character.
CHAPTER III Criticism of The Accepted View — FOOTNOTES
Examination has already been given to the sources on which
historians base their accounts of the Varus disaster. The influences
under which these sources were written—ancient accounts
repeated for the most part without question by later writers—and
their availability for sound historical conclusions have also
been discussed. We now advance to a general consideration
of facts which are in contradiction to the accepted view as to
the effect of Varus’ defeat.
The great importance usually attributed to this defeat is
surprising to the student of history, in the light of several
significant facts revealed by a study of the battle. Varus at
that time had three legions, which, if complete, comprised not
more, or scarcely more, than 20,000 troops.[1] The battle was not
a regular contest, but one in which the Romans were hemmed
in, we are told[2], by woods, lakes, and bodies of the enemy in
ambush. Our authorities are agreed that swamps, forests, a
running contest, and the elements were factors that contributed
to the Roman defeat.[3] Further, in the encounter the Romans
were directed by a leader very generally represented[4] as indolent,
rash, and self-confident, and they were pitted against far
superior numbers.[5]
This contest, therefore, waged under such circumstances,
could not have been in any sense a real test of the military
strength of the contending forces. Remembering too that it was
a fundamental policy of Rome to take no backward step in the
face of defeat, and considering also the known strength of Rome
at this period, it is inconceivable that the loss of three legions
could in itself have reversed the policy of that great world-power,
particularly when it is remembered that only a few years before
(6 A. D.) Tiberius had assembled twelve legions against Maroboduus[6],
while in that same year, against the Dalmatian-Pannonian
insurrection, the Roman legions were increased to twenty-six,
a body of troops such as had never since the close of the
civil wars been united under the same command.[7] This difficulty
has not escaped notice. Schiller recognizes it[8], and while
denying that the explanation is to be found in the exhaustion of
the empire, he urges the advanced age of Augustus and the
financial situation, which, without the creation of new revenues,
could not have provided sufficient means. Similarly Mommsen
observes[9]: “We have difficulty in conceiving that the destruction
of an army of 20,000 men without further direct military consequences
should have given a decisive turn to the policy at large
of a judiciously governed universal empire.” Immediately following
this Mommsen offers as explanation: “there is no
other reason to be found for it than that they [Augustus
and Tiberius] recognized the plans pursued by them
for twenty years for the changing of the boundary
to the north as incapable of execution, and the subjugation
and mastery of the region between the Rhine and the
Elbe appeared to them to transcend the resources of the empire.”
Seeck, commenting on the difference in Rome’s policy
in the time of the Punic wars and after the disaster to
Varus[10], believes that Augustus turned back to his “weaker wisdom”
of an earlier day (the year 20 B. C., when he said the
empire was large enough), because the Germans threatened only
the provinces, not Rome itself, as did the Pannonians, whom
Rome was at all hazard and at any cost compelled to subdue.
Eduard Meyer thinks that although Arminius’ revolt and the
battle as a military event had no greater significance than the
revolts and victories of the Celts and the Pannonians, the battle
nevertheless was decisive because it was not possible for Rome to
raise troops sufficient to win back the advantage lost, the two
legions that were levied being raised by proscription, and from
the non-citizen class. Further, whereas the insurrection in Pannonia
left no choice but to increase the army, the war with
Germany would have imposed not only too great a financial
burden, but would have revoked in the most drastic way the
old rule which permitted service in the army only to citizens.[11]
To have subdued Germany at such a cost as this, argues Meyer
(p. 487) would have been as inexpedient as to subdue the
Parthians.
These suggestions by Mommsen and Meyer as to Rome’s
lack of resources necessitate, before any conclusion is reached
as to the permanent effect of this one defeat, a consideration of
the relative resources of Rome and Germany at this period.
When we compare the general resources of the Roman
empire with those of Germany the balance is found to be overwhelmingly
in favor of the former, had its whole strength, or
even any considerable fraction thereof, been employed. The
population of the empire under Augustus was not far from
55,000,000[12], and, as service was voluntary and men of any
nationality were admitted, at least into the auxilia, practically
the whole free male population of the empire was available for
service. There was, of course, the traditional custom according
to which the legions were restricted to Roman citizens, and the
auxilia, consisting of foreigners, were kept at about the same
number as the legionaries[13], but Pompey and then Caesar had
enrolled legions of provincials (the so-called legiones vernaculae),
and in the armies of Brutus and Cassius and the triumvirs this
was done on so extensive a scale that Vergil, Ecl. I, 70 f. calls
the veterans who were settled in Italy out and out “miles ...
barbarus.”[14] Now Augustus appears to have made some consistent
efforts to restore the old conditions, but even then the
eastern legions seem to have been recruited, in large part at
least, from the Orient, while those of the west were drawn from
Italy and the Latin Occident[15], and under the succeeding emperors
the provinces were more and more heavily drawn upon,
until Roman citizens almost wholly disappeared from the ranks
of the imperial army.[16] Seeck indeed, after a renewed examination
of the material collected by Mommsen, comes to the conclusion
that Augustus did exercise much greater caution in drawing
the bulk at least of his forces from the citizens of Italy and
the Roman citizens of the provinces.[17] But granting this position
for the sake of argument, and admitting that Augustus
would recruit his legionaries only from Roman citizens (for we
prefer to give minimal estimates in order to avoid any charge
of overstating our case), the citizen population of the empire
(about 4,700,000 in 9 A. D.)[18] was sufficient to raise an army of
400,000 men under the inspiration of some great national cause,
which, with an equal number of auxilia, would yield a total
potential military force of 800,000, not counting the fleet which
was frequently employed in the operations in Germany, and
must have been heavily drawn upon if any permanent conquest
of the land was to be undertaken.[19] That such a figure as this
is not beyond reason is clear from the fact that after Actium
Augustus found himself in possession of 50 legions, a total army
of between five and six hundred thousand men[20], while after
Mutina, 66 legions, at least 660,000 men, were in the field at
once, and after the defeat of Sextus Pompey in 36, Octavian
and Antony had together no fewer than 74 or 75 legions under
arms, which, counting everything, and including naval contingents,
must have amounted to at least 800,000 men.[21]
However, even if the numerical superiority of the Roman
empire may not appear so overwhelming in the number of
troops which might be raised, we must remember that the
resources of the whole population were available to the full for
maintaining in the field, at the highest efficiency, and for an
indefinite period, an army of several hundred thousand men;
for all the inhabitants of the empire without exception contributed
abundantly in money and materials, so that in this
respect the great numbers and vast economic resources of the
empire gave it a position of immeasurable superiority over the
barbarians. Furthermore for a war such as the organized conquest
of Germany would have entailed, a huge levy of men suddenly
rushed to the spot, would have proved useless—or rather
positively injurious; without adequate means of communication
in that rough country it would have been almost impossible to
make effective use of them at one spot, or even along one line,
while the difficulty of provisioning them would have been quite
insuperable. What was needed was a force of moderate size,
capable of meeting any concerted effort on the part of the
enemy, which could press steadily forward, constructing roads,
establishing depots of supplies, firmly seizing and organizing
the territory that was reached and passed, and leave no possibility
of revolt in their rear. For this an army of ten to twelve
legions operating from two established bases, the Rhine and the
Danube, would have sufficed. Before such methods Germany
must inevitably have succumbed after two or three campaigns.
For the actual size of the standing army under Augustus
was ample to have carried on precisely such operations. The
number of his legions varied somewhat from time to time. After
Actium Augustus had about 50 legions; this number was
reduced to 18, then raised again to 26 at the outbreak of the
Pannonian revolt.[22] Three were lost in 9 A. D., and in their
place but two were added, so that the number left at his death
was 25.[23] Taking this latter as that of the average number about
the time of the defeat of Varus, calculating the theoretical
strength of the legion at 6000 men[24], and adding in an equal
number of auxilia, the city troops, the praetorian cohorts, the
fleet, and various detached contingents[25], we get about 325,000.
The effective force would be somewhat less than this, of course,
but would not probably fall much if any under 300,000 men.[26]
Now the majority of these could have been launched upon Germany
with little or no difficulty. Fifteen legions, or nearly three-fifths
of the total force of the empire had been concentrated in
Pannonia for three years (Suetonius, Tiberius, 16), and there is
no conceivable reason why these same legions might not at once
have turned upon the Germanic tribes, their task in Pannonia
now accomplished, especially as twelve legions, that is to say,
two-thirds of the whole army as it stood at that time, were
actually operating in Germany at the time of the outbreak of
the Pannonian revolt. Fifteen legions and the whole of the
otherwise unoccupied fleet would constitute an effective strength
of at least 175,000 men, a force several times as large as that
with which Caesar had accomplished the conquest of Gaul.
On the other hand the population of Germany between the
Rhine, the Elbe, and the Danube was extremely small. The
Germans had no regular cities (Tacitus, Germania, 16), some
tribes had as yet scarcely passed the nomadic state, there were
immense forests, and undrained swamps, while there were here
and there wide stretches of waste and uninhabited land on
the marches between hostile tribes.[27] Agriculture was primitive,
and industries did not exist at all. Under such conditions the
density of population must have been low indeed. And yet the
traditional view represents the Germans as being very numerous,
several millions in fact (Gutsche und Schultze, Deutsche
Geschichte, I (1894), p. 236, for example, estimate the total
number of Germans at no fewer than 15,000,000, more in fact,
rather than less!), and the persistence of such utterly uncritical
opinions explains in part the strange tenacity with which even
those who know better are obsessed with the idea that the conquest
of Germany, because of its teeming millions, would have
been a very difficult undertaking.[28] Fustel de Coulanges long
since and H. Delbrück more recently had insisted upon the
numerical weakness of the tribes which actually overthrew the
empire in the fifth century[29], and Ch. Dubois, in an elaborate
study of Ammianus, has shown that the actual numbers of the
Franks, Alamanni, etc., who wrought such devastation in Gaul in
the fourth century, were astonishingly small.[30]
H. Delbrück was the first to use severely critical methods
for the calculation of the population of Germany.[31] On the basis
of Beloch’s calculations for Gaul he estimated an average
density of population of 4-5 per square kilometer, which makes
for the region between the Rhine, Elbe, and the Main-Saale line,
with which alone he is concerned, a population of roughly
515,000 to 645,000, or as he prefers to count it at 250 per (German)
square mile, about 575,000 (calculating the area of this
district at ca. 2300 (German) square miles). For the whole
region between the Rhine and the Elbe he estimates not more
than about 1,000,000 inhabitants. That makes for all Germany
about 2,000,000, taking the first group of tribes as constituting
not quite one third of the whole nation.[32] This calculation he
supports on the basis of a totally different one, which is derived
from the number of warriors who could take part in an assembly
and be addressed by a single speaker. Setting this at a maximum
of six to eight thousand, and taking the average as five thousand,
at the ratio of 5 to 1 he gets 25,000 as the size of the average
German tribe, and as there were about twenty-three of these
between the Rhine, Elbe, and Main-Saale line, he reaches exactly
the same figure of 575,000 for the population of this district.
A different line of attack was pursued by G. Schmoller
shortly after Delbrück’s critique.[33] Taking the results of extensive
studies in the population of nations at different stages of
economic development, he estimates the average density of population
per square kilometer for “the north Indogermanic farming
and cattle-raising communities about the beginning of the
Christian era” to have varied between the limits 5 and 12, setting
that of Germany as 5 to 6. This would give for the area
between the Rhine, Elbe, and Main-Saale line a population of
roughly about 640,000 to 770,000, or for the whole of Germany,
taking this portion as not quite one-third, a total population
only slightly in excess of two millions. The substantial agreement
in the results reached by these three different methods
employed independently, the historical-statistical, the institutional,
and the economic, makes an exceedingly strong case. It
can be further strengthened, perhaps, by one or two other considerations
which have as yet not been employed. They are
the following.
Maroboduus at the head of the Marcomannic confederation,
which included a large number of tribes (even the distant Semnones
and the Longobardi) seems, at the height of his power,
to have commanded a total force of 74,000 men.[34] This number,
as Ludwig Schmidt has pointed out[35], bears every evidence of
being reliable, because of the immense force, twelve legions,
one hundred thousand men at the lowest estimate, which
Tiberius felt he must employ in order to crush him.[36] Now
this is probably the total number of males who in the last extremity
might bear arms, i. e., following the customary Roman calculations[37],
one-fourth of the whole population. The Marcomannic
confederation at its greatest development would have had, therefore,
a population of 296,000, or let us say, in round numbers,
300,000. Now some years later the Cheruscan confederacy
under Arminius waged war with Maroboduus on fairly even
terms; hence it is not unreasonable to suppose that the strength
of the two confederations was about equal.[38] Of course a large
number of the tribes which lay even between the Rhine and the
Elbe must have held aloof from the struggle, certainly those
along the sea coast like the Cannanefates, the Frisii and the like,
who were under Roman control, but doubtless many others also
in the remoter parts of the district concerned. The neutrals
may very well have been as numerous as either confederacy,
but hardly more numerous than both combined, for the struggle
is represented as a great national movement. In one case we
would get a total population of 900,000, in the other 1,200,000,
figures which agree very closely with those already reached
by Delbrück and Schmoller.
Again Posidonius in his description of Gaul (in Diod., V,
25) has calculated that the smaller tribes of Gaul counted
50,000 members, the largest a scant 200,000. The average would
be 125,000, but, as E. Levasseur, who has used this datum for
his calculations of the population of Gaul, observes[39], the number
of large tribes was probably very small, so that a lower
average (he accepts 100,000) must be taken. On what seems to
be a fair assumption, therefore, i. e., that the 60 tribes of Gaul
which were represented on the great altar at Lyons[40], existed
in Posidonius’ day, one would get a total population of about
6,000,000, which is astonishingly close to Beloch’s own revised
calculations, who concedes the possibility of 6,750,000, but prefers
5,700,000.[41] Now the Germans being without cities, developed
agriculture or elaborate commerce, must have had a very
much scantier population, certainly not more than an average
of 50,000 per tribe, and probably much less. Hence taking
50,000 as a maximum figure, we should get for the whole of Germany
with about 60 tribes[42], a maximum of 3,000,000, and for
the Rhine, Elbe, Main-Saale district with 20 to 23 tribes[43], a
maximum of 1,000,000 to 1,150,000, and a probable size of about
three quarters of a million—or even less. These numbers, while
somewhat larger than those already reached by other methods,
are yet reasonably close to them to serve as a sort of confirmation,
and in any event come very far below the figures customarily
given for the population of Germany.
Finally, one might note Lamprecht’s ingenious estimate
of the population in a district of the Moselle country by a comparison
of the relative number of place names recorded for different
epochs.[44] He finds that a district which in 1800 A. D.
had a population of about 450,000, had in 800 A. D. only about
20,000. This would give the German settlements of the year
800 A. D. as a whole, about 4.5% of the population one thousand
years later. As the population of Germany in 1800 was about
23,000,000 (Levasseur), that of a correspondingly large area
would have been slightly in excess of one million. In attempting
to apply this result to conditions in Germany at the beginning
of our era[45], we must bear in mind that the method employed
is one which is likely to secure minimal figures, and that in the
Moselle land we do not have the ancient seat of the Germanic
tribes, but only a colonised territory, which for some accident or
other may not have been as thickly settled as other localities.
On the other hand, we must note that the land in question had
been German probably for four centuries, and the conditions
were favorable to its bearing as heavy a population as that of
any interior district of Germany in the first century of our
era. While, therefore, we should regard this estimate as being
certainly too low, yet it supports in a way the calculations of
Delbrück and Schmoller, and is utterly inconsistent with figures
like twelve or fifteen millions.
We shall regard then the population of Germany between
the Rhine, Elbe, and Danube, as about 1,000,000, or taking the
Main-Saale line instead of the Danube, for all the campaigning
was done in the region northwest of these two streams, the
population could not have been in excess of three quarters of a
million. Taking Caesar’s calculation of one man for every
twelve inhabitants as the largest army which a semibarbarous
people could collect from a considerable extent of territory[46],
we should get something over 60,000 men as the maximum force
which the Germans could put into the field for a single stroke.
Without any adequate organization, transport, or central
authority, this number could not be fed and maintained any
length of time, and it is extremely doubtful whether Arminius
ever had a force as large as this. Besides, a number of the tribes
along the coast as far as the Weser, and along the lower Rhine,
remained friendly and loyal, so that their contingents would
have to be subtracted from the total. That something less than
60,000, say roughly 50,000, is approximately correct may be
inferred from the size of the armies which campaigned in Germany.
We have already seen that when Tiberius set out to
crush Maroboduus with his 74,000 men, he assembled twelve
legions, a force of 100,000 to 120,000 legionaries and auxilia.
Yet Germanicus invaded Germany in 14 A. D. with only four
legions[47], and fought the campaigns of the next two years with
no more than eight[48], and that too when he had reason to expect
that practically all of the tribes of northwestern Germany would
be united against him. We cannot imagine that the extremely
cautious Tiberius would have entrusted his nephew, his legions,
and his own imperial position to eight legions alone, if he had
had reason to think that the enemy exceeded 50,000 in number,
when he had ventured against Maroboduus only with a numerical
superiority of 50%. In other words the same proportional
strength used against Maroboduus, 12 legions against 74,000
men, would allow us to infer that Tiberius expected to find no
more than 50,000 capable of meeting his eight legions.[49]
We have already referred to the hopeless inferiority of the
Germans in tactics, strategy, and equipment, and their inability
to cope with the great resources of the empire, if systematically
employed in steady and long drawn out operations. The only
branch of service in which the Germans were on an equality
with the Romans, if not actually surpassing them, was the
cavalry, but that was of comparatively little consequence, partly
because the Romans used the Batavians for cavalry service, and
they were easily the equals of the Germans, while the nature
of the country, consisting largely of swamps and forests, made
cavalry an unimportant arm of the service. Indeed the cavalry
played no very important rôle in the great battles, and in the
one serious defeat of the Romans, that of Varus, they are not
so much as mentioned.[50] Two other advantages the Germans
had on their side, one a difficult terrain, the other inadequate
supplies for a large force of invaders. The first was a real difficulty,
but nothing insuperable; indeed it may be questioned
whether the terrain of Germany was much more difficult than
that of Gaul in Caesar’s time, and certainly not nearly so difficult
as that of the Alps and of Illyricum, the inhabitants of
which were subdued with no especial difficulty. As for provisions,
it was a simple thing for the Romans to collect immense
stores along the frontier and to deposit them at various stations
inland as the armies advanced; besides, the numerous navigable
rivers would enable them to bring supplies in any desired
quantity far into the interior, and it is well known how often
the fleet was used in the campaigns, on one occasion actually
sailing far up the Elbe to meet Tiberius and the land army.[51]
This suggests the final point of advantage which the Romans
had, that of the superior military position. Germany could be
attacked from three sides, the Rhine, the Danube, and the
Ocean. The Romans could select their own time and place of
attack, and support a forward thrust in any direction by a powerful
flank movement. Any position the Germans took up might
have been turned by forces coming from one side or the other,
or, if they held their ground, they would be in imminent danger
of being caught and crushed between two armies. The rivers
of Germany are numerous, and most of them, three at least in
the west, navigable for Roman fleets, which could not merely
move considerable armies at slight risk far inland, but also furnish
inexhaustible supplies. That the Romans know how to use
this superior strategical position is clear from the plan of campaign
against Maroboduus, and the numerous occasions when
the fleet cooperated with the Rhine armies.
To sum up, the Romans had such overwhelming superiority[52]
in total population, size of army, general resources, equipment,
tactics, strategy and military location, that any serious
and persistent effort at conquest could not conceivably have
failed. If the Romans, therefore, did not complete a conquest
it was unquestionably because they did not desire to do so, not
because they could not. As we shall see later on, the course
of their operations nowhere shows a consistent effort at subjugation;
the reason they did not incorporate Germany into
the empire is simply that they were engaged in doing something
quite different. We must not forget that what the Middle
Ages could not bring about in the Alps, or the Turks in the
Balkans, i. e., the utter pacification of these districts, the
Romans accomplished with ease and celerity, while Charlemagne,
with forces and opportunities incomparably inferior to
those of Rome, achieved the most thorough subjugation of the
Germanic tribes. To deny that Rome could have done the same
is an utterly untenable position.
It is clear from the preceding discussion, and of the utmost
significance for our question, that this battle was not a fair test
of the comparative strength, actual or potential, of the Roman
and Germanic forces. Not less noteworthy is a consideration of
the incidents following the defeat. One would have expected
that the events succeeding such a momentous engagement would
have been equally as important as the battle itself, if not more
so. Such, however, is not the case, and this fact is recognized
by Mommsen in the words quoted above[53], “without further direct
military consequences.” If there was an advantage on either
side it was with the Romans[54], for immediately the army was
increased to eight legions, and Tiberius, an experienced general,
was placed at its head.[55] It is to be noted too that not another
victory was gained by the Germans, while the Romans under
Tiberius (who had no opportunity for victories), and particularly
under Germanicus, marched and countermarched over
practically all of Germany (certainly over the territory of the
tribes who had taken part in this war), with little or no opposition.
Tiberius’ activity following the overthrow of Varus is
told by Velleius (II, 120), and making due allowance for the
latter’s partiality and proneness to exaggeration, we cannot disregard
entirely his general statements, since he was an eye witness
(II, 104). There is no doubt that Tiberius proceeded
cautiously[56] in the years 10 and 11, but in the latter year he
crossed the Rhine and starting from Vetera marched up the
Lippe river, utterly devastating the territory of the Bructeri[57],
resentment for which doubtless caused a member of this tribe to
attempt Tiberius’ assassination.[58] Later on (16 A. D.) Germanicus,
just before his recall, was so successful against the Germans
that he requested only one more year for the completion
of his work.[59] This means that Germany at this time was as
near to being a province as in any of the preceding years, but
no nearer, since the land had never been reduced to tranquillity.
And with respect to possession, the Romans were in control of
as much territory as they formerly held, and had the advantage
of having an army larger than it had ever been before. Moreover,
while it doubtless was more difficult to raise troops at this
time than in the days of Julius Caesar, the presence in Germany
of this larger armed force shows beyond doubt that
Rome’s resources were as yet by no means exhausted. As
already noted above, excellent authorities admit that had Rome
made any whole-hearted attempt she could have conquered Germany
just as she had other countries. Likewise Mommsen, after
observing that it was no easy task for Rome to overthrow the
Germanic patriot-party, as well as the Suebian king in Bohemia,
says[60]: “Nevertheless they had already once stood on the verge
of succeeding and with a right conduct of the war these results
could not fail to be reached.” Gardthausen[61] too agrees that Rome
could easily have erased this blot upon her military honor had
she tried.
As has been suggested above, the Romans never at any time
brought into the field against the Germans their full quota of
available troops. If it had been necessary, Augustus could have
sent into Germany the larger part of the great army of Tiberius,
after the revolt in Pannonia had been put down.[62] It is evident,
therefore, that Augustus had sufficient troops at his disposal
for Germany’s subjugation, if he had wished to use them
for that purpose. And, if we grant the contention put forward
by many, that he changed his mind after he had once resolved
to subdue that country, some purely psychological reason must
be found for this change. A brief review of his leading traits
of character ought to bring to light such a reason, if there
be one. Does it accord with what we know of Augustus to
conclude that he gave up such an ambitious undertaking because
of the intervention of a single, incidental defeat? Cold, calculating,
shrewd, determined, is the character that Augustus
reveals preeminently in his public and private life.[63] Nor is
there any contradiction in recognizing in Augustus’ nature
a desire for supreme power united with great gentleness, and
at the same time with great positiveness. One can conceive
that Julius Caesar might attempt the impossible, Augustus
never, since he began nothing without careful preparation, and
tests which brought a decision favorable to the undertaking.[64]
Meyer, after contrasting Augustus’ calm and deliberate procedure
with that of Julius Caesar, says[65]: “In all seinem
Tun dominiert der Verstand.... Alles sorgfältig wieder
und wieder zu erwägen, alle Chancen in Rechnung zu ersetzen,
immer den sichersten Weg zu gehen, das war Octavians
Art.” No basis whatever exists for the reproach sometimes
brought, that Augustus was wanting in courage, even if he
did lack the bold warrior-spirit of Caesar.[66] Considering then
that Augustus began nothing without careful and thorough
preparation, that he was positive and resourceful, and not wanting
in bravery, there is no reason for the belief that he would
suddenly have given up a policy so important and so far-reaching.
Further, it must be remembered that it involves a
contradiction of Rome’s entire previous history to conclude
that she would abandon, because of a trivial reverse, a great
national plan of conquest, once it had been begun. But even
should we admit such an abandonment, it is almost impossible
to believe that Augustus would have undertaken a war as
extensive as that necessitated by the subjugation of Germany,
after his army had been so greatly diminished.[67] That too
in the face of the fact that he was primarily a man of peace,
as is shown by the following words from one of the documents
deposited by Augustus with his will: “nulli genti bello
per iniuriam lato.”[68] That he was a man of peace is shown also
by the statement of Suetonius;[69] and of Dio (56, 33) to the effect
that whereas Augustus might have made great acquisitions of barbarian
territory, he was unwilling to do so; also of Dio (54, 9),
a striking bit of evidence, which has not been accorded its due
significance, to the effect that in the year 20 B. C. Augustus
laid down as his policy that “he did not think it desirable
that there should be any addition to the former [subject territory]
or that any new regions should be acquired, but deemed
it best for the people to be satisfied with what they already possessed;
and he communicated this opinion to the senate.” Similar
too, we note, is the view of Gibbon:[70] “It was reserved
for Augustus to relinquish the ambitious design of subduing
the whole earth and to introduce a spirit of moderation into
the public councils. Inclined to peace by his temper and situation,
it was easy for him to discover that Rome, in her present
exalted station, had much less to hope than to fear from
the chance of arms.” Finally, Augustus found no joy in war
for war’s sake, as did Julius Caesar.[71]
Since Augustus was practically an absolute ruler, his wishes
and character would determine the policy of the empire. And,
as seen above, it was contrary to Augustus’ character and wishes
to carry on extensive wars of conquest. Further, that peace
was Rome’s object at this period is universally admitted.[72] The
reason for this desire for peace Meyer sums up as follows[73]:
“weil die Kämpfe des letzten Jahrzehnts einen so furchtbaren
Charakter getragen hatten, weil ... aus dem entsetzlichen
Elend der Zeit nur ein Gefühl übermächtig sich erhoben
hatte, die Sehnsucht nach Frieden, nach Ordnung und Sicherheit
um jeden Preis.” While it is true that this feeling
and condition refer more particularly to the early part of
Augustus’ reign, the same policy of peace manifested itself all
through his rule, and was continued by his successors.[74] The
fact that the doors of the temple of Janus, which had stood open
for more than two centuries, and had been previously closed
but twice since Rome’s beginning in recorded history, were
closed three times in the first few years of Augustus’ reign[75]
proves that he was eager for a cessation of war.
The previous discussion shows that the effect of Varus’
defeat has long been exaggerated; that this reversal was a mere
incident, “a wound to the pride rather than to the prosperity
of the empire.”[76] While it was without doubt of greater consequence
than the loss of Lollius’ legion[77], which occurred at
the beginning of the Germanic incursions across the northern
border (16 B. C.), the overthrow of Lollius, coming at an earlier
date, should naturally have influenced Rome’s policy more than
Varus’ misfortune, which came long after her plans of conquest,
as many suppose, had been definitely formed. If a defeat
did not cause Rome to take a backward step, when she was
merely on the defensive, it seems highly improbable that “a
wound to her pride” could have done so, when she had once
definitely assumed the offensive. If there is any truth in the
theory that Augustus intended to subdue and organize Germany
into a province, no satisfactory explanation has been offered
as to why he allowed a defeat, which was of such little military
or political consequence, to interfere with a national policy of
so great moment.
We must now examine in more detail three questions which
have a very important bearing on the subject under discussion.
First, why did Augustus begin his wars against Germany? Second,
was Germany ever subdued by Rome and organized into
a province? Third, if not, and if the attempt was made, why
was the effort not carried to completion? In the absence of
documentary evidence historians must have recourse to conjecture
to explain why Augustus, contrary to his well-known
personal inclination, contrary to his peace policy of years,
attempted the conquest of Germany. The view has been
advanced that he had a burning ambition for world-empire,
and, through mere desire for military renown, he wished to see
himself at the head of such an empire; that as a part of his
plans to that end, the attempt at conquest was begun. This
view merits little consideration, as it has been rejected by practically
every competent historian who has investigated the subject[78],
despite the fact that it enlists the support of von Ranke,
whose authority, to be sure, in the field of ancient history is relatively
slight. He sees in Augustus’ plans with respect to Germany
“das ideale Ziel der Welteroberung[79], welches aus einem
ungeheuren geographischen Irrthum entsprang. Man meinte,
nach Osten weiter schiffend in das caspische Meer gelangen
zu können, das einen Busen des indischen Weltmeeres bilde,
welches die Erde umkreise.” Further, he speaks of Augustus’
ambition as directed toward the unattainable. But there is no
evidence to show that the sober-minded Augustus ever indulged
the vision of world-empire that haunted Alexander. Moreover, it
is too much to assume that he shared the colossal geographic error
of Strabo.[80] And even if he had, that is no reason for assuming
a desire to conquer the whole world. Besides, universal
dominion must have included the South as well as the North, and
there was never any attempt by the Romans to push their conquests
far into Africa, either directly from Egypt into the
Sudan or along either eastern or western coast. Furthermore, the
conquest of Britain must have been an important milestone in
such an undertaking, yet there was no move in the long reign
of Augustus toward that end. Finally, Augustus must have
had much clearer conceptions of the immense stretch of Asia,
as he was the first of European monarchs to receive ambassadors
from China, a region which these same ambassadors must have
made clear to him lay far beyond the utmost confines of Parthia,
or the remotest conquests of Alexander. On the other hand,
if he had wished to send his legions to the ends of the earth,
it is unthinkable that he would have waited until fifteen years
after he had become master of the Roman world as a result
of the battle of Actium. And for a beginning, to engage in
slight and irregular campaigns with small armies, no consistent
plan of action, and with the requirement that each fall the
legions were to recross the Rhine and winter behind the frontier!
If this be the indication of a policy of universal dominion its
futility is nothing less than colossal. The madcap fancies of
the “Emperor of the Sahara” would look like the combined
sagacity of Bismarck and von Moltke in comparison. It is to
be remembered too that plans for universal empire would have
brought Augustus into conflict with the Parthians, with whom
he was very careful to avoid war, preferring the less hazardous
weapons of diplomacy. Further, it is to be borne in mind that
by character and from principle Augustus was committed to
a policy of peace. The brilliant successes of his earlier rule,
instead of firing him with a desire for world-empire, brought
to him the conviction that his empire was large enough. Neither
the wish nor the need of enhancing his military renown can
be used as a valid reason for his having altered his belief in
this respect.[81]
Kornemann[82] indeed maintains that Augustus suddenly
became warlike about the year 4 B. C. The events leading
up to, and the evidence for, such a singular reversal of policy
he gives as follows. In 5 B. C. the Roman senate agreed
that Gaius Caesar, grandson of Augustus and heir presumptive,
should be consul, as soon as he had attained the age of twenty.
Augustus, with a successor thus assured, invited the people
to share his own joy and that of the prince’s family in the
celebration of public festivals, in the construction of buildings,
in the distribution of largesses, donations, etc. to the public.
At this time Augustus added to the Monumentum Ancyranum
(which Kornemann believes was a political document written in
five distinct parts and at as many different periods[83]), the second
part, chapters 15-24, in which he enumerates with satisfaction
all that he has done for the people, for the city of Rome, and
for the army. Then in 2 B. C. Lucius Caesar obtains the same
favor as his brother Gaius, and shortly thereafter aids in the
establishment of the Roman protectorate over Armenia. Thereupon
Augustus, forgetting that he had already represented himself
as the champion of peace, and yielding to the love of military
glory and conquest, added, about 1 B. C., a third part,
chapters 25-33 with chapters 14 and 35, in which he sets forth
what he has done to strengthen the Roman power in the provinces
and to extend it beyond, dwelling all the while on the
part that his grandsons and future successors have played in
this achievement. However, Kornemann’s theory and the deduction
therefrom as to Augustus’ attitude toward imperial conquest
find contradiction in an article by Wilcken[84], who argues
that while Augustus worked long over the document nothing
was added after the year 6 A. D. Further, the three parts,
honores, impensae, res gestae, form a whole, and were written
at one and the same time. Augustus filled in the original outline
with details which may be easily detected. For example
in chapter 26 the provinces of western Europe are thus enumerated:
Gaul, Spain, Germany. Now Germany, according to its
geographical position, ought to stand at the head of the list,
but its position of third in order is proof that it was inserted
after the other two.[85] For Germany could not have been called
a province until after the campaign of Drusus to the Elbe in
9 B. C. Hence the first outline of the res gestae antedates not
only the year 1 B. C. (proposed by Kornemann), but even 9
B. C. Therefore Augustus’ warlike tendency developed, if at
all, prior to 4 B. C., the date claimed by Kornemann.
This conclusion Kornemann combats[86] with the assumption
that while the passage referring to the western provinces shows
clear traces of interpolation, the name of Germany was not
inserted until the year 6 A. D., at which time there was entered
also the mention of Tiberius’ naval expedition to the coasts of
that country in 5 A. D. The insertion of each item attests the
desire which Augustus felt at that time to bring into relief the
services rendered to Rome by his adoptive son and sole heir.
But the chapter as a whole, he avers, is older than this, and the
reasons for attributing it to the earlier date remain unshaken.
Bésnier[87], on the other hand is undoubtedly right in saying that
it is impossible to follow Kornemann in assigning precise dates
to each fragment of the Monumentum Ancyranum and in tracing
point by point, from 23 B. C. to 14 A. D., the successive
accretions to the text. The most that can be said is that the
three parts, honores, impensae, res gestae were written at three
different times and that they correspond to the different and
successive preoccupations of Augustus. We may feel certain,
however, that Augustus did not revise his work just before his
death, and that he ceased to add to it in the year 6 A. D.[88]
Kornemann’s theories are super-subtle and break down under
a cumulation of interdependent suppositions, besides being psychologically
almost inconceivable. Their rejection by such
scholars as Wilcken, Gardthausen, Koepp, Marcks, Vulić, and
Bésnier completely invalidates his view as to Augustus’ attitude
toward the expansion of the empire by conquests. Kornemann
feels keenly, as do others, the psychological difficulties
in the way of explaining Augustus’ Germanic campaigns as due
to thirst for conquest. He therefore attempts to suggest a
plausible motive, i. e., to give the young princes their “baptism
of fire”, and a chance to win the military prestige, which down
to that time every great Roman had had. But his effort fails
for reasons which may now be summarized as follows: (1)
If Augustus really was engaged in the conquest of Germany
he had been at the task ever since 10 B. C., and not merely
since 4 B. C. (2) The explanation offered creates far greater
difficulties than it avoids. (3) There is no need of any explanation
whatever, if one takes the simple straightforward view of
events.
More important, and very widely accepted, is the view that
Augustus, in order to protect Gaul and Italy from the barbarians,
was under the military and political necessity of conquering
Germany. The year 16 B. C. is cited as the time which
brought a significant change in Rome’s foreign policy[89], and
committed Augustus to the subjugation of Germany. The reasons
are stated broadly by Hertzberg[90] as follows: “es waren
die Verhältnisse an der gesammten europäischen Nordgrenze
des römischen Reichs, die schliesslich den grossen Staatsmann
bestimmt haben, abermals und in sehr umfassender Weise, eine
Arena auswärtiger Kriege zu eröffnen.” The events of this
year were the barbarian invasions from all the boundaries of
the north. From the Danube wild robber bands made their
way into Macedonia. Germanic stocks, the Sugambri with the
remnants and descendents of the Usipites and Tencteri, under
the leadership of Melo[91], attacked and killed the Roman traders
sojourning in their midst, crossed the Rhine, plundered Gaul far
and wide[92], cut off and defeated the fifth legion under Marcus
Lollius, and captured its standard.[93] To meet this danger
Augustus himself was called to the Rhine, and although he
found to his surprise that the enemy had retreated and the land
was enjoying peace, he decided upon “einen Gegenstoss nach
Germanien hinein und ... ein Vorschieben der Marken
bis zur Elbe.”[94] It is also Gardthausen’s belief that by reason
of Lollius’ defeat Augustus felt the necessity of protecting Gaul
either by an offensive or a defensive policy; that he had to
choose between either strengthening the army for holding the
Rhine or the subjugation of Germany; and that he finally
decided on the latter.[95] Eduard Meyer finds not only the protection
of Gaul but the winning of a shorter and more distant
boundary from Italy as reasons for Augustus’ wars against Germany[96]:
“nur gegen die Germanen hat er sich nach der Vollendung
der Organisation Galliens zum Kriege entschlossen: der
selbe schien notwendig um Gallien zu sichern und womöglich
in der Elblinie eine kürzere und zugleich weiter von Italien
abliegende Grenze zu gewinnen.” So Schiller urges the same reasons.[97]
Likewise it is Mommsen’s view[98] that Augustus’ change
in policy was necessary to Rome’s security; that it is easy to
understand how Roman statesmen, who, like the emperor himself,
were opposed to a policy of subjugation, could no longer
assume that it was expedient for the empire to halt at the Rhine
and on the north slopes of the Alps; that “Great Germany”
(so called by the Romans), which forced itself in like a wedge
between the Rhine and Danube boundaries, and the Germans on
the right of the Rhine, with inevitable boundary strife, were
far more dangerous to Roman rule than the blazing torch in
Gaul and the zeal of Gallic patriots. Hertzberg[99] thinks that
Augustus was greatly influenced by the eager desire for war
and adventure on the part of the three military leaders of his
household, his spirited stepsons, Tiberius and Drusus, and his
old friend and son-in-law Agrippa.[100] Gardthausen also believes[101]
that, while preliminary conditions urgently demanding a strong
offensive policy were at hand, the desire and vigorous support
of such a policy by Tiberius and Drusus was a matter of considerable
weight. As for Agrippa, he was either not an open
advocate of imperial conquest or did not wish to hazard his
well-deserved military reputation by new ventures; moreover
advancing age and illness made him cautious. As long as he
lived his voice was potent in the emperor’s counsels, and no
attempt was made to break away from Augustus’ policy of
peace. But with his death the situation changed; youth took
the place of age, and while both Tiberius and Drusus were
alike supporters of the now altered policy, Drusus must be
regarded as the really aggressive factor. Ferrero at the very
beginning of his chapter on the “Conquest of Germania”[102] discusses
the reasons therefor. He rejects “the theory of ancient
and modern historians” that Augustus’ unexpected decision for
expansion by conquest can be “traced to no other cause than
an inexplicable change of personal will.”[103] The urgency of
the undertaking depended on the fact that it was the only possible
means of preserving Gaul, the value of which had been
revealed to Augustus by Licinus. Beside the economic advantages
of this rich province great political advantages also were
apparent. The western provinces were inferior to the eastern
in population, and though national feeling affected to despise
the orientals, eastern, particularly Egyptian influence, was
spreading a more refined and intellectual civilization throughout
Italy and the empire. “It is therefore not improbable”
adds Ferrero, “that Augustus under the advice of Licinus
may have regarded the rich and populous province of Gaul
... as a counterpoise to the excessive wealth and the
teeming populations of the eastern provinces.” Finally we
may note the view expressed by Seeck[104], viz., that Rome discovered
from the events of the year 16 B. C. that only continued
conquest would permit Roman territory bordering the empire’s
boundaries to come to quiet and fruitful development;
that the peaceful provinces had imperative need of the partially
subdued ones at their side as a protection; that if these half-subdued
territories became peaceful, and developed under
Roman culture into a condition that attracted plundering bands,
then the partially subdued must in turn be wholly subdued
until some natural protecting border of sea or desert was
reached. He concludes: “so wurde denn die Eroberung der
freien Barbarenländer in noch grösserem Umfang ins Auge
gefasst, als sie zwanzig Jahre früher beabsichtigt war.”
Gardthausen voices the belief[105] that political reasons also
forced Augustus into a policy of imperial conquest. He himself
from principle and character was a man of peace, but
the man of peace had to reckon with both citizens and soldiers.
Not only had he to convince the former ever anew of the absolute
necessity of the form of government he had wrought out,
but he was obliged to gratify the soldier’s desire for his natural
element, by allowing him to break the eternal monotony of
long service in peace by the glory and spoils of war. Unimportant
wars, which, even when unsuccessful, were not sufficient to
destroy the equilibrium of the state, seemed to be the best
means to meet the wishes of the citizen and soldier classes.
After the civil wars a time of rest was necessary to recruit
the strength of the Roman state. This transition period
was now past and the gaps which many battles had made in
the ranks were now filled. Peace was no longer praised as the
greatest blessing. Freedom for the Romans was forever gone,
but as a recompense the empire could offer its subjects fame
in war, and by foreign victories could also strengthen itself
internally. Indeed even the opponents of Augustus’ government
were easily reconciled to imperial expansion when they
saw Rome’s position abroad bettered through the operations
of the army, and the burdens of the individual diminished by
the empire’s enlargement. But of special moment to the
emperor was the temper of the army. The soldier loves war
as such; the avarice of the commanders, the hope of the soldiers
for booty, and the desire for adventure are all factors with
which even a peace-loving prince must reckon. So Ferrero,
wholly apart from conditions in Gaul, finds[106] a necessity for
some military conquest by Augustus, and says further, that
this necessity was recognized by Augustus by virtue of his
acute appreciation of public opinion; that some important enterprise
at this time had to be found, which would occupy the attention
of the people as a whole, and would serve as a concession
to the ideas of a new generation, which could not sympathize
with the peaceful ideals of the early empire, and which was
restive under Augustus’ social reforms. Further, Augustus
saw clearly the decadence in Roman society; that the Roman
aristocracy was now willing to die by a kind of slow suicide
in physical and intellectual indolence and voluptuousness, tendencies
which were personified by Ovid and which were beginning
to act upon the new generation, as peace dispelled the
recollections of the civil wars, and as Egyptian influence grew
stronger.
By way of summary we may note at this point that of
the long series of opinions and explanations given above:
(1) One set assume a sudden change of Augustus’ peace policy
through mere desire of conquest for its own sake. These
have been shown to have no basis in fact.
(2) Another set assume that Augustus, in order to protect
Gaul and Italy, found it necessary to conquer Germany
and make it a province. But this process as a protective
policy, as Seeck admits, would have been a futile one, for
it would have been necessary to continue it indefinitely.
That is, as soon as each new province became civilized the
bordering territory must have been subdued until some
great natural barrier for a frontier was reached. Such a
barrier did not exist. The great plains of Northern Europe
were known by all, statesmen as well as geographers, and
by none better than Augustus himself. Such a policy
would have been one of sheer stupidity, a quality that we
must not impute to one of the most astute political geniuses
of the ancient world.
(3) Another set assume that Augustus was influenced in
changing his policy by his stepsons, Tiberius and Drusus,
and by the desire to give his grandsons, Gaius and Lucius
Caesar, a chance to win military prestige. But on the one
hand there is no evidence whatever for such an assumption,
and on the other it is at variance with what we do know of
Augustus’ caution and singular independence in dealing
with matters of state.
(4) Still other views assume that Augustus was compelled
to yield to the demands for war by army and citizens. But
where is there a shred of evidence to show that the Roman
army pined for conquest? On the other hand in the long
and melancholy list of military revolts and imperial assassinations
during the empire no cause is more frequently given
than the dislike of active campaigning against a dangerous
enemy, and the strictness of discipline which it
demanded. Troops constantly revolted because they were
compelled to leave comfortable quarters and go to distant
ends of the empire on campaigns. Under great and successful
generals like Trajan, there would not likely be revolts
against profitable conquests, but where is the evidence to
show that the army as such ever demanded conquests, and
had to be appeased? Least of all conquests in Germany,
where there was no spoil, nothing but privations, dense forests,
untrodden ways, storms, and in particular a savage foe.
Armies mutinied when ordered to undertake wars against
the Germans: there is no instance of their urging a campaign
against them. As for the demands of the citizens for
wars it may be said that hatred of wars and praise of peace
is the key note of the literature of the period. Nothing can
be further removed from the demands for war than the
spirit in which the elegiac poets, for example, pride themselves
on their disinclination to encounter the perils and
hardships of war. The senate and nobility were not eager
for war, since an emperor’s conquest made him even more
powerful and necessary to the state, while working a corresponding
diminution in the prestige of the senate and the
nobility. As for the plebs urbana, they had by this time
lost practically all their political activity and influence.
Neither their condition nor their temper would prompt
them to yearn for a war, which would likely result in their
being called away to service from the distributions of corn
in the city, from the largesses of money, and from the games
now more numerous and splendid than ever.
(5) It will be observed further, that all the views cited above
assume: (a) that the conquest of Germany was the only
means at Augustus’ disposal for protecting Gaul; (b) that
his conflicts on German soil could have had no other purpose
than Germany’s subjugation. These views, however,
prove nothing further than that Gaul needed protection,
and that to this end battles were fought in Germany. Evidence
will be presented to show that at this period, in Germany
as elsewhere, Rome was endeavoring to protect her
borders by a show of military strength, and by rendering
friendly considerable portions of territory between these
borders and the strongholds of the enemy. A study of
Rome’s several campaigns from this point of view justifies
such a conclusion. Only in this sense could Rome have
sought to establish at the Elbe a shorter and more distant
boundary from Italy. The “bufferstate” policy (see
Chapter IV), once we concede it as a possibility, makes unnecessary
any speculation as to who, if any, of Augustus’
military advisers was responsible for his abandonment of
peace plans, so long maintained. The military movements
involved in such a policy, in lieu of imperial conquest, would
satisfy very well the longing for adventure, and even for
the spoils of war, on the part of the Roman soldiery. Foreign
victories were scarcely needed to strengthen the internal
organization of the Roman state. And it seems difficult
to believe that Augustus could have expected to find in
them any effective antidote for the decadence in Roman society,
a decadence which had begun during, and largely as a
result of, a period of conquests, and had grown apace down
to the days of his own reign. It was from the middle class,
in whom the frugal and constant virtues of earlier days
still survived, not from the fashionable upper classes, the
young nobility, to whom Ovid’s writings appealed, that the
empire drew its solid and dependable support.
We must now consider the matter of a German province
in the time of Augustus. Many assert that the subjugation
was complete or practically complete;[107] that the provincial
organization was just about to be put into operation when disaster
overtook Varus, and made such an organization forever
impossible.[108] Gardthausen thinks[109] that Drusus’ death came
opportunely for German freedom; that although his three campaigns
did not reduce Germany to the actual condition of a
province, Drusus had nevertheless laid sure foundations for the
subjugation of that country. And while he can point to no certain
evidence Gardthausen believes the Romans established garrisons
in the very heart of the land[110]: Koepp sees no reason to conclude
that Germany was ever a Roman province[111]; he is quite
sure that the part on the right of the Rhine was never such,
either before or after the battle with Varus.[112] Zumpt[113] was
probably the first to deny the existence of a province in Germany.
Later, however, Mommsen’s view became the accepted
one.[114] He mentions for the year 16 B. C. a “governor of Germany”,
and gives for the years 9-6 B. C., during which the
land between the Rhine and the Elbe is described as “a province,
though still by no means reduced to tranquillity”, a discussion
on the “Organization of the province of Germany”, as evidence
for which he adduces the administration of Roman law,
and the establishment of an altar to Augustus among the Ubii.
Next, for the years 6-9 A. D., he speaks of the “province of Germany”,
as an undoubted fact, and says that the battle of the
Teutoburg forest was the reason for “giving up the new German
province” (p. 52). Quite positively he says (p. 107):
“The original province of Germany, which embraced the country
from the Rhine to the Elbe, subsisted only twenty years”,
i. e., 12 B. C. to 9 A. D. Further on (p. 108) we are told that
“the governorship and the command were not, in a strict sense
done away with by that catastrophe, although they were, so to
speak, placed in suspense”, and that out of the parts on the
left of the Rhine, and the remnants of the district upon the right,
there were formed the two Roman provinces of Upper and
Lower Germany[115]; that these were “in the territory which
properly belonged to the Belgic”, but that the latter, since “a
separation of the military and civil administration was, according
to the Roman arrangements, excluded, was placed for administrative
purposes also under the commandants of the two
armies, so long as the troops were stationed there” [east of the
Rhine].
The relation of this so-called province of Germany to the
great Gallic-Germanic command is discussed by Hirschfeld[116],
who believes that the separation of the command over the Rhine
legions from the Gallic governorship was complete in Augustus’
time. In like manner Marquardt[117] thinks that as a consequence
of subjugation on the east side of the Rhine there arose
the two provinces of Upper and Lower Germany, whose organization
was interrupted by reason of the unexpected events of
the year 9 A. D. Schiller also speaks of a division into two
provinces, but regards the establishment of the provinces as
planned rather than actually carried out. While he includes
the Germans on the left bank of the Rhine in the Belgic, one
of the three Gallic provinces set up by Augustus 16-13 B. C.,
he adds: “Wahrscheinlich nahmen später auch die beiden
Germanien an den gallischen Provinziallandtagen [in Lugdunum]
theil.”[118] On the other hand, he describes Mainz in the
year 9 B. C. as lying in “der von ihm [Drusus] gewonnenen
künftigen Provinz Germaniae.”[119] Further on[120] we are told
that after Quintilius Varus succeeded Tiberius, and at the
same time obtained command over both the provinces of Germany,
the disaster to Varus took place, and a change in the
German policy of the emperor ensued, “und die Benennung
Ober- und Untergermanien, einst als Benennung für das Land
zur Elbe geplant, bezeichnete jetzt etwas prahlerisch den
schmalen Streifen längs dem Rheine am linken Ufer.”[121] Riese,
who has carefully examined all the available sources, shows
conclusively that no such separation was made, and that Germany
was considered by the Romans as merely a part of Gaul,
which they regarded as extending to the Elbe.[122] The east
boundary of Roman Gaul, to be sure, was originally the Rhine,
and, as land divisions in the geographical treatise of Agrippa
(who died 12 B. C.), Gaul appears on the one side, while Germany
with Raetia and Noricum stands on the other. The governor
of Gaul (the so-called Gallia Comata) was Agrippa in
21, M. Lollius in 17, and Tiberius in 16. Then, probably during
the presence of the emperor in Gaul (16-13 B. C.), the land
was divided into three separate provinces—Belgica, Lugdunensis,
and Aquitania.[123] The legate of Belgica naturally, as
before, commanded the army of all Gaul[124], which was on
duty among the Germanic stocks on the left bank of the Rhine,
and intended to serve as a defense against the Germans on the
right bank of that river. Therefore such commanders could
very properly be called commanders in Germany, as by Velleius
(II, 97, 1): “accepta in Germania clades sub legato M. Lollio”,
although, as is well known, the actual defeat of the legion was
west of the Rhine, in Roman Germany, i. e., in Gaul proper.
During Drusus’ command, in the year 12 B. C., the three Gauls
were again united. Later Tiberius, and after him Ahenobarbus,
commanded, probably under like conditions, as more certainly
Tiberius did, when a second time (4-6 A. D.) he held both the
supreme civil and military commands in Gaul and the Danube
lands. The only difficulty in the acceptance of such a view is
that Sentinus is called by Velleius “legatus Augusti in Germania”,
and by Dio “τῆς Γερμανίας ἄρχων”. But this does not
mean that at that time there was a German province along with
the Gallic one. The combined testimony of Pliny, Ptolemy,
Strabo, and of Augustus himself, tells us nothing of a German
province, but indicates that the Gallica extended to the Elbe.
Significant too are the words employed by Velleius. Although
ever ready to praise Tiberius, and to expatiate on his
military achievements, in his narrative of peoples subdued by
Tiberius (“in formam provinciae redacti”), he says nothing
about his conquering the Germans, but “sic perdomuit Germaniam,
ut in formam paene stipendiariae redigeret provinciae”
(II, 97, 4). Florus is the only ancient author who supports the
view that Germany was conquered and organized as a province
(II, 30). And he is not only unreliable, but uses the term provincia
in different senses.[125] Once (II, 30, 23) it may mean nothing
more than “land”, since surely there was no province before
Drusus, while in another place (II, 30, 25) it may very well
refer to the province of Gaul. In answer to Mommsen’s view
that the establishment of a separate province in Germany is
evident from the organization of courts there, and in the erection
of an altar to Augustus, Riese convincingly argues that
the administration of justice, which could be exercised also by
a Gallic governor, proves nothing; further that the establishment
of an altar to Augustus at Köln would be of significance
for our question only in case it had been customary in every
province for the emperor’s worship to be observed in a single
place. But that this was by no means true is seen from the
instances of this cult in different places of one and the same
province[126], e. g., in Asia, Macedonia, and Lycia. Riese concludes
that Varus also, as his predecessors, was at the head of
the entire Gallic-Germanic province. This is nowhere expressly
stated in the ancient sources, but seems probable from all the
facts. First of all Varus, as the husband of Claudia Pulchra,
was related by marriage to Augustus, and so an available man
for the position, since it was the emperor’s policy from the
beginning of the reorganization in Gaul to entrust this position
of plenary power only to those who were closely connected with
the emperor’s house.[127] And not only are we nowhere told
the contrary, but it is highly improbable that the emperor, just
at the time when the Gallico-Germanic provincial arrangement
was succeeding so well, would have instituted any change in it.
Further, since we find that under Varus’ successor, no less than
under his predecessors, the entire power of Gaul and Germany
was combined, it would seem most probable that the status was
not different during Varus’ incumbency.
From the foregoing it is evident that scholars are far
from unanimously accepting the old view that Germany was
organized into a province, or that any attempt was made to that
end. On the other hand Riese’s presentation of facts has definitely
proved, beyond the chance for further argument, that no
such province was organized. But so strong is the force of the
preconceived and traditional view that Riese, despite his successful
attack on a part of it, expresses the belief that a conquest
of Germany was intended. However, we are by no means
restricted to Riese’s contention that Rome’s relations with the
Germans, as a part of the Gallic province, looked to their subjugation.
If so, they would have been treated as other peoples,
including the Gauls, whom we know Rome wished to make subjects,
and would not have been left in a state of uncertainty,
neither a province nor yet wholly independent, as they were
left for fifteen years after Tiberius’ departure for Rhodes. This
very matter of indecision with reference to Germany has been
suggested as directly responsible for the catastrophe which
befell Varus. So Ferrero says[128]: “In Germany ...
the people, apparently subdued, were not bound to pay any tribute,
and were left to govern themselves solely and entirely
by their own laws,—a strange anomaly in the history of Roman
conquests.” Nor in theirs alone, one may well add. It seems
strange that such an anomalous “conquest” should not long
since have been recognized as no conquest at all, and as nothing
more or less than a desultory series of punitive expeditions
or of demonstrations.
Once more we press the question why, if Germany was
not subdued by Rome and never organized into a province, did
Rome give up the attempt to do so? Many, as shown above[129],
argue that Rome was unable to accomplish her purpose, and
that the defeat of Varus was the great turning point in her
policy, and the direct cause for abandoning the attempt.[130]
Gardthausen in addition to the direct cause (the defeat) finds
also a more remote one.[131] He thinks that the unfortunate
family estrangement which in 6 B. C. drove Tiberius into
voluntary retirement forced Augustus to suspend or give up a
plan that was well considered and already successfully begun;
that this advantage nevertheless was forever lost, since Augustus
could find no competent successor to Tiberius[132], and was unwilling
to entrust to one person the large forces which were necessary
to bring about the subjugation of the land. Although the
war with Germany was costly and fraught with danger, Delbrück
is of the opinion that Rome could reasonably count upon
final success, since the war party which is not strong enough
to risk an engagement must sooner or later succumb. Energetic
prosecution of the war with Rome’s available forces would
without doubt have brought ultimate victory.[133]. But the explanation
why Rome did not continue the war which Germanicus
was apparently bringing to successful issue Delbrück discovers
not in the war itself, but in the inner conditions of the Roman
principate. Tiberius had become emperor only by adoption;
Germanicus, however, stood in the same relationship to the
deceased Augustus in which the latter once stood to Julius Caesar.
Tiberius was by nature jealous, and concluded that for his own
safety he could not allow the same condition to establish itself
between Germanicus and the legions in Germany as had once
existed between Caesar and the legions in Gaul. To bring the
war to a close required not only a commander of the highest
ability, and with great means at his disposal, but one who had a
free hand in the prosecution of the war. Tiberius did not have
a general who could meet the requirements, and even if he had
had such a one, would not have dared to send him. Hence after
watching the course of affairs for a year or two he recalled Germanicus,
and the Germans remained free.[134] Koepp[135] sees the
reason for Germanicus’ recall not, as Tacitus hints, in the
jealousy of Tiberius, but in the fact that Germanicus’ campaigns
and losses were proving too expensive.[136] Riese is closely
in agreement with Delbrück’s view given above. There was,
he says, no change of policy on the part of Augustus, but the
change was due to Tiberius. Notwithstanding Germanicus’
loyalty in putting down a rebellion in the legions, Tiberius was
suspicious and recalled him. The Roman troops were brought
to the right bank of the Rhine, and Germanicus, as commander
of Gaul, never had a successor. Never again was Tiberius willing
to expose his power to the danger of great leaders in command
of the Rhine army. As a result of this decision the
frontier forces were divided into the armies of lower and upper
Germany, and, after the year 17 A. D., these were under the
command of consular legates, because Tiberius was too suspicious
to allow the command of these armies to be united with that of
Gaul.[137]
The great diversity of views cited above shows that as yet
no satisfactory conclusion has been reached which will explain
Rome’s alleged change of policy toward German territory.
As we have seen, many have sought other reasons for this change
beside the defeat of Varus, a clear indication that it in itself
is insufficient. If one must assume such a series of personal
and accidental causes, adding supposed conditions of jealousy,
weakness of the empire, inadequate finances, etc., it is evident
that the defeat of Varus ceases, even under the most favorable
interpretation, to be a great climacteric cause. It was only one of
a series of contributing causes, i. e., of relatively small concern,
and significant only because of chance association with other
reasons. The whole position of the theorists as to Varus’ defeat
is full of inconsistencies, assumptions, and inferences, at variance
with the evidence, and ending in the admission that after
all several other causes were equally operative. With this we
may take leave of the traditional view as to the significance of
the defeat of Varus, in the conviction that no one has reasonable
ground to continue to espouse it, when once a simple and satisfactory
solution is offered that not only recognizes but explains
all the ascertainable facts. And at this point we may summarize
the objections which have been adduced against the belief that
Augustus had in mind the conquest of Germany:
(1) Varus was defeated with a small army in a battle which
was absolutely no test of the military strength of the two
peoples.
(2) The defeat was completely avenged by Tiberius and
Germanicus, and Germany was overrun by them only a few
years later. Only twice in these campaigns did the Germans
venture to meet the invaders in the open field, and each time
they were severely defeated.
(3) The Roman power was vastly greater than that of even
a united Germany, and could unquestionably have completed
a thorough conquest had that been the desire.
(4) It was contrary in the first place to the well-known character
of Augustus to attempt this war of conquest, and in
the second place, after having begun it, to abandon the undertaking.
(5) It was also contrary to the well-recognized peace policy
of Rome at this period.
(6) It was highly unlike Rome to give up this conquest on
account of a single setback.
(7) Whatever may have been the ultimate intentions of
Augustus, certainly the methods followed were utterly unlike
those of any conquest ever undertaken, and a rational criticism
will try to explain the facts rather than to twist them
so as to fit a preconceived theory.
(8) There was certainly no “provincia” to abandon, under any
circumstances.
(9) If there was any change of policy it was under Tiberius,
and to be explained by circumstances peculiar to that time.
Augustus, after the defeat of Varus, went on quite as he had
after the defeat of Lollius.
The cumulative effect of these objections is overwhelming,
and causes the student of history not only to feel sceptical about
the significance of Varus’ defeat, but strongly convinced that
it played no such part in the determination of Augustus’ Germanic
policy as is generally supposed. And since the current
theory as to this defeat can be maintained only after disregarding
these several and serious objections, some interpretation of
Augustus’ purpose must be offered which will obviate these
difficulties, and still be consistent with his known policies and
acknowledged acts. In the following chapter it will be made
clear that Augustus had no other purpose in his operations in
Germany than to make repeated demonstrations of Rome’s
power, in order to impress the barbarians[138], and to make the
frontier defense effective by pacifying and bringing into
friendly relations with Rome large parts of the bordering territory;
that it was not at any time his intention to conquer Germany,
and organize it as a subject province.
CHAPTER IV A New Interpretation — FOOTNOTES
Every empire of the ancient world was bordered on one
or more sides, if not actually surrounded by barbarian tribes
which envied its prosperity and were ever on the alert to organize
a razzia into its prosperous domains. It was therefore a
prime policy of every empire builder, not merely to mark out
distinctly the limits of national authority and responsibility,
and to round off the lines of dominion by the inclusion of the
whole of some tribe or nation, or the complete extent of a certain
well defined district possessed of a unified economic character,
but beyond all else to secure an easily defensible frontier
line against the aggression of his civilized rivals, and the chronic
brigandage of barbarian neighbors. Certainly no civilized country
of ancient times enjoyed such immunity from annoyance on
the part of its neighbors as did ancient Egypt, when once the
upper and the lower kingdoms had been united, for it is wholly
surrounded by seas and deserts; yet even here the barbarian was
an intermittent danger, the Nubian and Ethiopian in the south,
against whom many a Pharaoh waged punitive campaigns; the
Libyan in the west; the Bedouins at the northeast; and even the
sea could not protect the Delta from the ravages of freebooters
from the isles, the far spread front of the latest wave of the
Hellenic invaders of Greece. And two of the barbarian nations
actually invaded the country in such numbers as to set up
dynasties of more than an ephemeral character, the Hyksos and
the Ethiopians. Less favorably situated was the civilization
in the Mesopotamian valley; Elamites, Kassites, Mitanni, Khita,
Aramaeans, and the brigands of the mountains, the last and
most powerful, the Medo-Persians, were ready to devastate their
peaceful preserves. Persia had to contend with Massagetae and
Scythians;[1] Philistia had the Hebrews, and they in turn the
Amalekites and other dwellers in the wastes; Carthage, the
Numidians, Libyans, and Moors; the Macedonians had the
Thracians and Paeonians; the Greeks in Asia Minor had the
Lydians, in Italy, the Sabellians, Bruttians, Lucanians, Iapygians,—in
short the Greek colonies had upon every coast of the
three continents a fringe of warlike and rapacious enemies with
whom permanent peace was an impossibility.
Rome was, of course, no exception to the rule, and once
her power had spread beyond the confines of Italy it was inevitable
that her extraordinary national vitality and genius for
organization must keep extending her confines until strong
and satisfactory frontiers were secured. By the beginning of
our era the great permanent boundaries of the empire had in
the main been reached. To the west lay the Atlantic ocean;
the south and southeast was covered by the deserts of Sahara,
Arabia, and Syria; the north had the Black Sea[2] and the Danube;
only two quarters were inadequately provided for, the
northeast, Armenia, and the northwest, Germany. In the former
case the uplands of the Taurus constitute a welter of confused
peaks and ranges, whose trend is, however, in the main
east and west, so that neither the crest of a long line of mountains
nor the course of some large river supplies any satisfactory
north and south line.[3] In the latter, a relatively small river,
that showed a marked tendency to flow in parallel channels,
with a rather sluggish current except in a few places, and with
a considerable number of islands, so that it could be crossed
almost at will even by barbarian tribes, furnished inadequate
protection to the rich provinces of Gaul.[4] Had the population
on the right band of the Rhine been extremely thin, or sluggish,
as for a long period it seems to have been on the north
bank of the Danube, no great danger need have been anticipated
here, but the Germans were, for barbarians, relatively numerous,[5]
brave, and adventurous to a fault, and passionately
addicted to warfare and marauding. Under these circumstances
it seems clear that an ordinary frontier line would have been
thoroughly insecure. No matter how many forts and trenches
might be established along the Rhine it would have been impossible
to hold a single line intact even with the full standing
army of the Empire. If the hostile territory extended right
up to the ramparts of the legionaries, the Germans, secure in
the protection of their hills, forests, and swamps, could gather
an overwhelming force, cross the river and break through the
fortifications at any point they pleased along a line of several
hundred miles in length, before an adequate force, with the
slow methods of communication then available, could be gathered
to resist them. And once past the defenses, either the invaders
must be allowed to harry and plunder at will, while the breach
was repaired to stop the influx of others, or else, if they were
pursued and hunted down, the forts must be weakened to the
imminent danger of a repetition of the same event at some
other point.
There were but two ways to remedy this situation. One
was to give up the Rhine as a frontier and to push on; but
this would merely have transferred the scene of difficulty, not
removed it, for bad as the Rhine may have been it was the best
available frontier in this direction until one came to the Arctic
Ocean and the Ural Mountains;[6] or if only the Germans were
so dangerous as neighbors, the limits of the empire must have
been pushed to the almost equally impossible line of the Vistula,
or beyond, in order to include them all within its confines;
and finally, a very material increase must have been made in
the size of the standing army, because the legions on the Rhine
served not only the purpose of warding off the Germans but
also of keeping in restraint the restless Gauls, while, if the
frontier were fixed at the Elbe or the Oder, quite as many
troops would be needed to defend it there, and many additional
legions for garrison service in Belgica, Gaul, and Noricum.[7]
The other way was to buttress the frontier by securing on the
right bank of the Rhine a series of friendly states or tribes, whose
leading men or factions were to be kept well disposed to the
empire by all the expedients of force and diplomacy. In this
way the danger from the barbarian would be minimized, no
sudden attacks from the proximate tribes need be apprehended,
and even against a great tribal movement in the remote hinterland,
like that of the Basternae, the Galatians, the Cimbri and
Teutones, the Helvetians, and many another even before the
Völkerwanderung, the Romans would be amply prepared in
advance. The shock could be absorbed by the launching of
friendly tribes, more or less strongly supported by Roman
troops, against the newcomers, and, if worst came to worst, and
the foe pushed his way relentlessly onward, the issue could be
decided on foreign territory beyond the frontiers, and with the
assistance of tribes which otherwise would have been forced to
join the invaders against Rome, or at the best, have remained
neutral.[8] Once established, such friendly relations might easily
be maintained by the countless devices of a resourceful diplomacy,
the honors and recognitions, the flattery and gifts which
are so dear to the barbaric heart, and for which incalculable
values have ofttimes been rashly bartered away; or, when a
chief proved recalcitrant, it was easy among so ambitious and
independent a nobility as was that of Germany to raise up a
rival who could either compel obedience or else take his place.[9]
We can readily believe that the subtle and resourceful Tiberius
accomplished during his German campaigns more by diplomacy
than with the sword[10], and characteristic not merely of the man
but of the general situation which had been produced was his
effort to console the impetuous Germanicus with the observation
that the Germans could well be left to themselves now, i. e. to
cutting one another’s throats at the artful suggestion of Roman
diplomacy.[11] But diplomacy alone could never have initiated
such a condition in Germany; nothing less was needed than
the vivid fear of the legionaries, and that too not as a static
body of troops however powerful, but dreaded through bitter
experience of what it meant to have the cohorts carry fire and
sword to the innermost recesses of the country. Barbarian
peoples are easily impressed by a portentous occurrence, but
with them the effect wears rapidly away, unless by frequent
repetition it be seared into their consciousness. This process
of terrorization had to be kept up until the fear of Rome was
so great that the mere thought of invasion would be recognized
as madness. The readiness with which the tribes of Gaul and
even of Germany[12] expressed their submission to Caesar, after
some heavy stroke, is familiar to all readers of the Gallic Wars,
but no less characteristic is the readiness with which they would
take up arms at the least rumor of a reverse, or even without
any change in the situation whatsoever, merely after the first
effects of the news of disaster had worn away.[13] For years
therefore after the Rhine had been definitely determined upon
as a frontier it was necessary for Roman generals to march
at frequent intervals into Germany, making powerful demonstrations
in force not simply among the proximate tribes, but
penetrating far into the interior, so that even the remotest
might trust no more to their forests and their swamps; bringing
ships of war up the larger rivers not merely to support
the land troops, but also to demonstrate the mastery over water
as well as land, and to show how far beyond the actual frontier
of the empire its outstretched arm could strike; rewarding
friends and establishing them more firmly in places of authority,
punishing foes individually and in small groups, beating
down any armed opposition that dared to raise its head (and
that was relatively seldom in the numerous campaigns that were
waged), and ruthlessly devasting the territory of the intransigent,
frequently in the more completely pacified districts adjusting
disputes between Roman merchants and the natives, or acting
as arbitrators in difficulties which had arisen between individuals
and factions among the Germans themselves. Such
is the picture of these German campaigns as we should draw
it, filling in the meager outlines of events as given by the
ancient historians. Of a similar nature are the punitive or monitory
expeditions carried on by the French, the British, and the
Russians, in their dealing with similar barbarous or semicivilized
tribes upon the borders of their African or Asiatic empires.
Real warfare was rare, a pitched battle seldom took place[14], but
the repetition of the demonstrations gradually had its effect
even upon the fierce and rapacious Germans.
Let us examine from this point of view the actual conduct
of the Germanic campaigns, bearing in mind the utter dissimilarity
with the methods employed by Caesar for the conquest
of Gaul under similar conditions. In the first place no army
posts, forts, or powerful garrisons were established and maintained
in Germany. Aliso was nothing more than a station
for munitions of war and no doubt traders’ stocks of goods[15],
and it was established so short a distance from the Rhine, only
a trifle more than 30 miles from Vetera, as to have little more
effect in overawing the tribes in its vicinity than did the powerful
fortresses along the Rhine itself.[16] The fort built by Drusus
in Mt. Taunus can hardly have been much out of sight of the
Rhine, and doubtless served merely to secure an easy entrance
into the upland country for the garrisons farther south along
the river.[17] These two posts certainly could have had no direct
influence upon the maintenance of authority in the remote
interior. Flevum on the coast was a feeble trading post for
merchants, sufficient only to hold their supplies, give a safe
anchorage for their vessels, harbor an occasional Roman war
vessel which would be needed to guard against the danger of
piracy, and protect a few ships engaged in coast traffic towards
the north and the northeast. On rare occasions it might serve
as a naval base for a large fleet sent out to make a demonstration
along the coast and rivers of Germany.[18] None of these
can properly be denominated a “Zwingburg”, yet how could
the Romans have expected to maintain and make permanent a
conquest over such fierce barbarians without overawing them
in some wise with great fortresses located at strategical points
in their very midst?
It is noteworthy also that no Roman army ventured to
spend the winter on German soil except on one occasion, and
that was in 4-5 A. D., when for some unknown cause (doubtless
one of considerable importance judging from the way in
which Velleius speaks of it), Tiberius was so long delayed in
the north that his active campaign was not over until December,
and winter must have been upon him before he could
reach the Rhine.[19] In this case he remained “ad caput Iuliae”,
as near the permanent camps doubtless as he could get.[20] The
next summer an extensive campaign was undertaken to the north
and east, and with the cooperation of the fleet even the Elbe
was reached, but that this encampment in the confines of Germany
the preceding winter had meant nothing singular, and
established no new policy, is clear from the fact that after this
summer’s campaign, when, if ever, it would have been necessary
to retain a powerful army in the “conquered” territory whose
limits are supposed to have been greatly extended, Tiberius
calmly led his troops back to the Rhine as usual (“in hiberna
legiones reduxit”, Velleius, II, 107, 3).[21]
Furthermore, there was no building of a network of great
military roads to facilitate the march of the legions far into the
interior, yet if such roads were anywhere needed it was surely
in Germany, where the trifling commercial trade routes could
not possibly have sufficed for the sure and speedy movements
of the legions and their large baggage trains. There are some
vague statements regarding engineering works by Drusus[22], and
we hear likewise of certain structures of Domitius, the pontes
longi in the northwestern swamps[23], and certain limites and
aggeres with which Germanicus connected Aliso and the
Rhine[24], nothing at all commensurate with the ambitious schemes
which the Romans are supposed to have entertained for the conquest
of the country.[25]
Finally there was no civil administration established for
any part of the country, even that which might have some
appearance of being under Roman sway; no colonies were
founded, either military or commercial; there was no effort to
push forward, to settle, and to absorb the newly acquired
“province”.[26] Nor can shortness of time be put forward as an
excuse for failure to perform these characteristic features of
a regular Roman conquest. Two generations had passed between
Caesar’s first passage of the Rhine and the defeat of Varus,
forty-seven years since Agrippa had crossed the same river, or,
if we consent to take the date generally set for the conquest
of Germany, the last campaign of Drusus, 9 B. C., eighteen years
of Roman domination had elapsed before the battle of the Teutoburg
forest, yet nothing of any real importance had been done
to organize the “new province”. For the earlier part of this
period since Caesar, one might indeed argue that Rome had
been engaged in more absorbing enterprises, to wit, the civil
wars, but since the battle of Actium, or at all events since the
establishment of the dyarchy, Augustus had a perfectly free
hand to complete any project whatsoever that he may have
had in mind with regard to Germany. Drusus, Tiberius, Domitius,
Vinicius, and Tiberius again had campaigned often enough
beyond the Rhine, but nothing was actually done toward finishing
any formal conquest. Nor will it do to ascribe to Augustus,
as is generally done, the policy of turning over to Quintilius
Varus the last formal act of organizing the province. What
less opportune moment could possibly have been selected than
just the period of the Pannonian revolt, when the Rhine armies
were reduced below their normal strength, and a man placed
in charge, who, whatever his other virtues may have been, was
certainly not an experienced general? For it would certainly
be expected that the formal establishment of complete imperial
administration in Germany would have aroused what little spirit
of independence yet remained (according to this theory) in German
bosoms, and to have entrusted such a mission to such a
man, at such a time, with such small forces, and without any
of the necessary preliminary work of roadbuilding, fortress
erection, stationing of garrisons and the like, would have been
an act of colossal and criminal folly on the part of one of the
shrewdest and most patient and calculating statesmen of the
ancient world.[27]
We must here examine the arguments of the authorities
who are cited for the statement that Varus was engaged in
organizing a full civil administration for the “province” when
disaster overtook him. The rhetorical nature of these documents
and their general untrustworthiness have already been
emphasized; when we look for perfectly definite acts we find
either the vaguest language, or else utterly improbable statements.
Much has been said of the presence of “causarum
patroni” in Varus’ army, but just how much is properly to be
inferred therefrom is doubtful. In the first place the evidence
for their presence is the worst possible, Florus alone mentioning
them (II, 30, 36 f.), and that with the most patent rhetorical purpose,
and the highly colored story of how, when the tongue of one
was cut out and the lips sewed together he was taunted with
the remark, “Viper, you have finally ceased to hiss”. But
granted that some “causarum patroni” attended Varus, how
much does that signify? When was the organization of a province
entrusted to these men, or what official rôle would they
play in such a process? Their presence is easily enough
explained as an aid to the general in his semilegal activities.
We have already observed that he must often have been called
upon to settle disputes between the numerous rival nobles of
Germany. Who indeed was better suited to act as arbitrator
than a powerful and disinterested official of the great neighboring
empire?[28] Doubtless many an appeal regarding the business
dealings of Roman traders with the Germans was referred
likewise to him. The only regular course of procedure would
have been to act in accordance with the recognized Roman
legal traditions—one surely would not expect a Roman general
to dispense German law or to act merely on his passing
whims—, and it would be perfectly natural to have on his general
staff a few legal advisers. That Varus took their advice
frequently, and that some persons felt that they had been
injured when such advice was followed, and bore a special
grudge against those men, may very well be, but that the final
steps of turning a barbarian country into a province were being
then and there taken surely cannot be established by the presence
of a few legal advisers on Varus’ staff.
More serious is the statement that tribute was being
assessed and collected.[29] That this was literally true on any
comprehensive scale is clearly impossible. We hear nowhere
of publicani[30], or any of the paraphernalia for collecting the
tribute of a conquered province.[31] That certain things were
given Varus and his army by allied and friendly chiefs and
tribes there can be no doubt, and these may have been objects
of high specific value, as choice pieces of amber and the like,
or mere supplies of grain, meat, hides, and similar material.
It was not to be expected that Roman armies should march
through Germany without being amply assisted by their socii
and amici. An example of what such assistance may have been
is the well-known case of the Frisians, who were expected to
furnish a few oxhides annually for military uses, and who
started to fight when an exacting officer modified the terms of
the original understanding. That the Frisians however were
really a free, though allied people, at this time, there can be
no question, for there is not a hint of actual Roman administration
of their affairs.[32] Similar must have been the case with
the Cheruscans and other tribes farther inland. A certain
amount of assistance was doubtless quite properly expected,
and in fact the genuineness of the friendship might well
have been doubted if there were no willingness manifested to
be helpful.[33] That Varus or some of his officers may occasionally
have regarded a voluntary service of friendship or policy in the
light of an obligation, and may have requested and even insisted
upon more than friendship or policy would lead the Germans
to regard as a fair offering, is quite possible, although with a
weak force and while the Pannonian revolt was still unsubdued,
it would indeed have been preternatural folly. But we are
not justified in admitting any more, and this is all that our
sources, stripped of a little rhetorical embellishment, really
assert.[34]
Finally, Dio speaks of a division of Varus’ forces, whereby
a large portion of his army was serving on garrison duty at one
point or another in the country, and adds that after the defeat
of the main body of his troops all these separate detachments
were hunted down and destroyed.[35] This would be important
if it could be used as evidence for the establishment of Roman
garrisons throughout the land, but it cannot. There is no hint
in any other author that a large number of forts and strongholds
were captured in consequence of this defeat, yet as intensifying
the importance of the reverse, that must surely have been
referred to by some one. Every other authority knows merely of
the annihilation of Varus and his army, not of the capture of
a whole series of strongholds all over the land.[36] Besides, one
asks in vain what these places were and when occupied. There
is nothing in the accounts of earlier or of later operations
which furnishes any answer to such questions, or a parallel to
such a military policy on the part of Varus. And finally, what
could have been more foolish than to divide a force, unusually
small in itself, at a critical period, when the great revolt in
Pannonia was not yet put down? That Varus might not have
had every man of his three legions with him on the fatal occasion,
is quite conceivable. Some detachments might have been
with convoys of provisions, others out to look for supplies, yet
others engaged in hunting down some band of outlaws, or in
putting into execution some decision favorable to a conspicuous
supporter of Rome, and that these small bands may have fallen
victims after the great disaster is perfectly possible. That is
all that we are justified in inferring from Dio after the veneer
of rhetoric has been removed.
For we must bear in mind the marked tendencies of our
sources for the administration of Varus. Florus was concocting
a melodrama; Dio arranging an explanation, which should save
the credit of Rome and the Roman soldier by putting all the
blame on the dead who tell no tales; Velleius distorting everything
in maiorem gloriam of Tiberius, for whom Varus must
serve as a foil at every turn. There is therefore nothing so
stupid, arrogant, or wilful that it is not cheerfully ascribed
to him, while perfectly proper and natural things, like the presence
of lawyers on his staff, the making of arrangements regarding
the quantity and character of the assistance to be rendered
by the socii, the dispersion of little detachments of troops upon
one or another small but necessary service, are exaggerated into
acts of wanton folly and oppression, and interpreted as the
inauguration of a totally new policy. Yet every one of these
things must inevitably have taken place on all the numerous
similar demonstrations that had been made in Germany; the
only reason that they are not mentioned elsewhere is that we
have no accounts regarding other operations in Germany in
which such details would have been in place. They were the
ordinary routine of campaigning and of no interest to the average
ancient historiographer, save as they served to point a lurid
description of a disaster, or to supply a basis, however flimsy,
for a misrepresentation.
Varus was, we may feel assured, doing no more, in all
probability much less, than his predecessors had done on numerous
occasions. Two years of heavy fighting had not broken the
Pannonian revolt. The forces along the Rhine, if not actually
weakened in order to enlarge those in Pannonia, would doubtless
be so represented by hot-headed Germans of the nationalist
persuasion, particularly after two years of utter inaction. It
was doubtless in response to suggestions that Roman prestige
needed some refurbishing in the interior, and very likely at the
express command of Augustus, that Varus undertook his fatal
demonstration. The very fact that he left so large a force at
the Rhine under Asprenas would indicate that he felt it safer
to keep two armies in readiness for action at different points,
rather than to concentrate his forces and so risk the breaking
out of trouble in some quarter from which pressure had been
removed. Without any open show of violence, rather with
every expression of courtesy, confidence, and good will, he was
engaged in the ordinary routine of a commanding officer upon
such a demonstration in force, when suddenly attacked and
destroyed. Graciousness and friendliness had been taken for
weakness, as too often with the barbarian, and he and his men
had to pay for a conciliatory attitude with their lives. All this
is but the thing which we should reasonably expect under the
circumstances; it is all that the sources, critically examined,
will justify us in asserting. We do not possess, to be sure, the
actual documents of alliance between Rome and various tribes
or chieftains of Germany; we have in fact scarcely the name of
any German preserved from Ariovistus to Arminius, but we
can be perfectly certain that negotiations of friendship and alliance
were frequently and solemnly entered upon. If Rome had
made an alliance with Ariovistus in 59 B. C. (see above n. 8),
while as yet he was a relatively unknown force, hundreds of
miles from the frontier, how much more must she have been busy
in organizing friendly relations with the German tribes that were
immediately contiguous to the Rhine and through whose territories
her armies so often marched in peace?
Finally, we would emphasize the general defensive character
of the campaigns. In the great majority of cases some disturbance
in Germany is definitely given as the cause of the
operations, and if our sources for the Germanic wars were not
so hopelessly fragmentary we should doubtless find that in every
instance the Germans were the aggressors.[37] Even the proposed
campaign against Maroboduus we have no right to regard as
an act of wanton aggression, for Maroboduus had retired sulkily
into the forests of Bohemia, and there developed a formidable
army, and though his overt acts were conciliatory, his very
presence, considering the inflammable character of the nation
to which he belonged, and in which he might incite greater disturbances
than had ever yet broken out, was a cause of justifiable
apprehension.[38] Indeed any other German than Maroboduus
and the fact that he did not seems to have been regarded
by his fellow Germans as disloyalty to the national cause. Likewise
the campaigns of Germanicus in 14 A. D., while apparently
at the very moment unprovoked, were in reality a bit of deferred
revenge for the treacherous attack upon the legions of Varus.
Is it in fact not truly singular that among so many scattered
references to the Germanic wars, there is nowhere, save in
Florus, who has been dealt with elsewhere, any direct assertion
that the purpose was conquest, reduction to a state of subjection,
or the like? (Cf. pp. 27 and note; 75). All writers represent
the Romans as being compelled to send troops from time to
time into Germany to preserve the peace, and to make powerful
demonstrations; there are none of the characteristic marks
or processes of conquest. Were it not for the all but universal
preconception that conquest was intended the sources speaking
for themselves would tell a very different tale. That is briefly
the following: for a generation from the time of Caesar to that
of Drusus, Rome had been content with merely repelling attacks
and punishing the immediate offenders, together with a local
demonstration of her forces. That procedure finally appeared
to be ineffective, and so a vigorous policy of terrorizing the
Germans from further disturbances of the peace was tried.
Some canals were dug to facilitate the movements of the fleet
which was greatly needed for the purpose of transporting supplies
upon the marches into the remote interior; close to the
Rhine some swamp road construction was undertaken, subsidiary
apparently to the naval operations; a few castella near
to the Rhine and along the highways leading into the interior
were erected as munition depots, and nothing further.[39] Preparations
were made to facilitate incursions into Germany, and
these were repeatedly undertaken, but every year Drusus came
back to his starting point upon the Rhine, after the most
approved manœuvers of the noble Duke of York, or of the perplexed
Persian poet who tried to become a philosopher,
“but evermore
Came out by the same door where in I went.”
The campaigns of Domitius and of Tiberius are of exactly the
same character, a rally, a raid, and a relapse. Regarded as
attempts at conquest these operations represented from the political
point of view sheer folly, from the military point of view
a sequence of grandiose fiascos; considered as a prolonged series
of demonstrations intended to establish a line of buffer states
in the form of friendly, allied tribes as a further protection of
a naturally weak frontier against the barbaric hordes of the
remote swamps and forests, they were sagaciously conceived
and to the highest degree successful.
Our argument has thus far followed the process of exclusion.
The Roman operations in Germany were either those of
permanent conquest or of demonstration; there is no tertium
quid. If not conquest, and we have endeavored to refute that
view at every point, it must have been demonstration. The
nature of our sources does not permit a positive and detailed
proof of our new interpretation; that, properly interpreted,
however, they are in harmony with it, we have been at pains to
show. By way of conclusion we shall undertake to strengthen
our position by pointing out analogies and parallels, not merely
in the general course of ancient history, but in the foreign policy
of Augustus himself.
Punitive and monitory raids were frequently undertaken
in antiquity without any attempt whatsoever at making permanent
conquest. Such were the oft repeated razzias into
Nubia made by the Pharaohs, the countless raids of Assyrian
monarchs into the mountains to the east and north, especially
the great campaign of Darius among the Scythians in 512 B.
C.[40] Of the same sort were the frequent campaigns of the
Macedonian kings against the Paeonians and Thracians, though
no serious attempt was made to extend their dominion greatly
in this direction. A typical example of such chronic punitive
campaigning was the service of Clearchus in the Chersonese,
who used that peninsula as his base of operations while raiding
the Thracians above the Hellespont.[41] The whole history
of the more powerful Greek colonies is filled with the record
of such punitive expeditions intended to keep the restless barbarians
at peace. Of this identical nature were Caesar’s demonstrations
across the Rhine in Germany, and beyond the channel
in Britain. He had surely no thought of making a permanent
conquest, at least at that time, but desired merely to
make a display of Roman power to the barbarians who were, or
might be, interfering with the security of his conquests in
Gaul.[42] It is true that the Romans were not generally in the
habit of keeping a foe off at arm’s length in this fashion, but
preferred to close with and destroy him once for all, but the
time was bound to come soon or late when even the amazing
vitality of the Romans would reach its limit, and when they
must content themselves with defense instead of new conquest.
And this limit was first reached along the Rhine, where an effort
at further advance would have involved endless difficulties.
But we are not without examples of quite the same thing
from the very reign of Augustus, and that too at a period considerably
prior to the disaster of Varus. Of precisely this
nature was the raid into Arabia in 25-24 B. C. There is no evidence
that a permanent seizure of the land was intended; but
occasion was taken to demonstrate the power of Rome, and
then the expedition returned. That there may have been some
intention of seizing or securing fabled wealth we cannot perhaps
wholly deny, although men so well informed as the Roman
merchants and administrators of Egypt could hardly have been
guilty of such folly, but its main purpose seems to have been
merely a demonstration of the vigor of the new Egyptian
administration.[43] For it is significant that in the very next
year began the Ethiopian wars, which lasted until 20 B. C.,
wherein likewise no effort was made at extending the limits of
the new province, but the Ethiopians or Nubians were given a
taste of Roman steel, and made to realize how serious a thing
it would be to harass the new lords of Egypt.[44] Of quite the
same nature was the invasion of Dacia, 12-9 B. C., and the
later raids during the Pannonian revolt, 6-9 A. D. Augustus
had certainly no intention of adding Dacia to the Empire; he
merely wished to punish the tribes north of the Danube for
interfering in the affairs of the province and to give a sharp
warning against a repetition of the offense.[45] That the invasions
of Germany were made more frequently and probably upon a
larger scale than elsewhere, there can be no denial, but that is
due to the fact that the Germans were more warlike and martial
than the other contiguous barbarians. We have already
observed that practically every campaign in Germany was preceded
by grave provocation on the part of the barbarians, while
frequently the difficulties raised were settled by diplomacy
without recourse to armed intervention. But the lesson that an
invasion of the Empire was likely to cost far more than it was
worth, while it took a long time to teach, was in the end thoroughly
learned. For two hundred years after the death of
Tiberius almost unbroken peace reigned along this quarter of
the frontier, which had been for half a century the storm center
of the empire[46], and when the northern defenses finally began
to crumble, it was towards the north and northeast, not the
northwest, that they first succumbed. The policy of the first
two principes was therefore abundantly justified by its lasting
success.
As regards the secondary policy, i. e., that of the upbuilding
and support of friendly or buffer states immediately contiguous
to the actual frontier, there is no lack of parallels from
antiquity.[47] Tiglath Pileser IV in 732 B. C., after annexing
certain parts of Palestine, set up such a buffer between his
empire and Egypt along the marches of Philistia, in the shape
of a vassal principality under a Bedouin chief called “kipi,
(or resident) of Musri” (i. e. Egypt).[48] Similar was doubtless
the purpose of Nebuchadrezzar in leaving Jehoiakim of
Judah upon the throne of a subject kingdom after his conquest
of Palestine in 704 B. C. Only after two revolts, both instigated
apparently by Egypt, did he apparently feel compelled to
give up a policy which, though it made it unnecessary to invade
Egypt directly, nevertheless allowed the temptation to renew
hostilities without a desperate risk.[49] Something similar, though
under very different conditions was the policy of Sparta in
building a ring of Perioeci about her own Helot population
on every side save that of Messenia, where by the destruction
of cities and the closing of harbors the Helots were likewise
cut off from contact with the outside world. The Perioeci thus
formed a double barrier, warding off the enemy on the outside,
and helping to keep in a disaffected servile population.[50] Again,
this was clearly the policy of Alexander in the East, who set
the Indus as his actual frontier, but secured that by establishing
two powerful protected states, the kingdoms of Porus and
of Taxiles, on the eastern bank.[51] A parallel not too remote,
perhaps, can be pointed out in the case of the first contact of
Rome and Carthage in Spain. Here the Romans seem to have
set up Saguntum as an allied state to act as a buffer or check
to the advances of Hannibal to the Ebro, and towards what they
chose to regard as their proper sphere of influence (or, if one
prefer, that of their ancient ally Massilia). That the policy
in this case failed to prevent war is of course no proper criticism
of its intent. There were also the numerous but ephemeral
protectorates of the eastern marches, which served for the
most part the purpose of preparing the formal advance of the
empire rather than actually covering a difficult frontier, and
so lasted only a short time. But in Armenia we have a truly
classical example of a buffer state, whose fortunes no less an
authority than Lord Curzon compares directly with those of
Afghanistan, similarly situated between the two great rival
powers of Russia and Great Britain.[52] One Roman general or
emperor after another might have made Armenia a province, as
Trajan actually did, although his successor immediately restored
it to its former state of uncertainty, but for more than four
centuries it was preserved as a buffer state against Parthia.[53]
Less notorious but equally clear is the case of Mauretania. In
25 B. C. Augustus transferred King Juba from Numidia, which
he thereupon transformed into a province, to Mauretania,
which, after having been eight years a province, was once more
made a kingdom. The purpose of this singular interchange of
political status, must have been to protect the actual confines
of the empire from direct contact with the barbarians of the
south and west, who were not yet accustomed to the presence
of the Romans.[54] It was not until sixty-five years afterwards,
40 A. D., when danger from this quarter might have been
expected to have diminished or disappeared after two generations
of a strong and peaceful government, that Mauretania
was once more made into a province.[55]
With this brief list of parallels and precedents to the German
frontier policy which we have ascribed to Augustus, we
hope to have shown that there was no striking innovation involved
therein, nothing really beyond the range of the expedients
and experiences of an ancient statesman. In thus attributing to
Augustus in Germany a policy bearing so modern a designation
as that of the “buffer state”, we feel convinced that we are not
modernizing the ancients, but only recognizing how very ancient
some of our supposedly modern expedients of statesmanship in
reality are.
APPENDIX — CHAPTER IV, NOTE 16 — CHAPTER IV, NOTE 49 — Addendum (p. 87)
Of course this assumes that Aliso was at Haltern, which is far from
being well established (see below). Even Oberaden is not so very
much farther away from the Rhine, but it seems not to have been
occupied any great number of years, as Aliso certainly was. Koepp’s
remark (Die Römer in Deutschland, p. 102) that the extent of the fortifications
at Aliso sets a minimum figure for the number of the troops
that occupied it permanently, seems to be the reverse of probability.
The camp was more likely laid out on a large scale so as to be able
to hold the largest army that might be expected to operate in that
region on its way forward and back, as well as great quantities of war
supplies, but the actual number of troops which held the fort year
in and year out was probably very small, since our literary sources are
unanimous in representing the left bank of the Rhine as the permanent
headquarters of the army. As for the camp at Oberaden, it has yet
to be proved that it was occupied in force throughout the winter, as
Koepp (loc. cit.) believes, and so accuses Velleius of an outright falsehood
in a plain statement of fact, where he must have known better.
Certainly its size does not prove this, as it might not have been occupied
at full capacity all the time; nor does the ornamentation of certain wall
posts upon which Koepp lays such stress. That beams were artistically
shaped shows merely that the builders had plenty of time in which to
do their work, or else loved a bit of ornamentation, not that whole
armies wintered in these quarters. The probability is that if occupied
at all during the winter, it was held by only a small body of troops.
Finally, if it could be shown that it was occupied during the winter, is
it impossible that this may have been one of the camps of Tiberius, who
wintered once in Germany? Can the archaeologist really date a structure
like a camp within a limit of 15 years (only 13 years separated
Drusus’ death from Tiberius’ winter in Germany), in the case of a
simple construction, whose general plan never varied greatly, and without
the evidence of superposition and modification of structure? That
a thing is “Augustan” may well be asserted; to claim that a fortification
belongs to Drusus, and not to Tiberius, is perhaps going too far,
particularly when one must reject utterly the literary evidence in order
to do so. Koepp is at pains to insist upon this matter of permanent
occupation, because, as he rightly observes, “ein grosses Land schwerlich
erobert werden kann, wenn der Eroberer alljährlich bis zu seinem
Ausgangspunkt zurückgeht, und nicht vielmehr einen von Jahr zu Jahr
wachsenden Gebietsteil besetzt hält.” But even if one granted that
Oberaden is Drusus’ first fort and Haltern a later or contemporary
establishment (as Kropatschek, and Koepp, p. 20, believe), nothing is
gained regarding an ever advancing limit of possession, for Haltern is
nearer the Rhine than Oberaden. In order to prove that the Romans
were actually moving forward in this systematic fashion, as indeed they
must have done, if conquest was their purpose, one would have to be
able to show not two neighboring camps of the same period, but a
whole series of advancing forts, the later situated ever farther inland
than the earlier. This has not been done, and one is inclined to doubt
greatly if it ever can be.——Delbrück’s arguments against Haltern or
Oberaden as Aliso (Gesch. d. Kriegskunst, 2nd ed., II, pp. 131-150) seem
very convincing, but there are also grave difficulties in the way of setting
Aliso near Paderborn. However, no matter in which place Aliso be
located, the upper or the lower Lippe, our argument is not affected,
for though the location near Paderborn is far inland, and, if held in
great force, must have overawed the surrounding tribes, it is perfectly
clear from Delbrück’s arguments (pp. 48-50, 130 ff.) that Aliso was
never a “Zwingburg”, but only a center for munitions and supplies, probably
as small as it could possibly have been made for easy defense.
He has well emphasized the fallacy of parcelling out an army in
fortresses so long as there remains a hostile force in the field. The point
we wish to make, however, is that, if the whole country was subdued,
or even any substantial portion thereof, it must have been necessary to
move forward the legions into great permanent fortresses either in its
midst, or on its farther borders, and that this was never done in Germany;
the few castella of which we hear were certainly not far extended
points held in full force by an army of permanent occupation.——We
have hitherto paid no attention to the statement of Florus that “Drusus
castella ubique disposuit per Mosam flumen, per Albin, per Visurgin”
(II, 30, 26). Of course no one accepts this as being in any sense literally
true of the Elbe and the Weser (cf. Abraham, Zur Gesch. d. germ,
u. pannon. Kriege, etc., p. 4) and there is grave doubt even of the correctness
of the statement regarding the “quinquaginta amplius castella”,
that Drusus is supposed to have built along the Rhine (cf. Hübner,
Römische Herrschaft, p. 110). So much however is clear, that the
Romans did make a serious effort to pacify and control the coast,
and castella may very well have been located at or near the mouth of
the Weser and the Elbe (cf. Delbrück, op. cit., p. 51). The strategical
value of such naval bases has already been pointed out (above, p. 51);
their commercial significance is quite as great. Ancient commerce was,
whenever possible, water-borne. With Germany, in the absence of even
tolerable roads, it must have been almost wholly so. A close parallel
is furnished by the conditions which prevailed in the American Middle
West during the period of French occupation and even later. For the
Roman trade with Germany see K. T. von Inama-Sternegg, Deutsche
Wirtschaftsgeschichte, 2nd ed., Leipzig, 1909, I, p. 229 ff., a good though
somewhat cursory summary, with references to the literature. The
very carefully worded official statement of Augustus regarding the
results of his activities in Germany, mentions this feature, and it alone,
as a solid achievement: “Gallias et Hispanias provincias et Germaniam
qua includit oceanus a Gadibus ad ostium Albis fluminis pacavi” (c. 26).
“Pacavi” seems to be chosen in order to indicate that peaceful commercial
enterprises had been made possible.
[For the following important note upon Palestine, and especially
Judah, as a “buffer state”, I am indebted to my friend Professor F. C.
Eiselen, who writes me the following under date of May 5, 1915. W. A.
O.]: “The two great world powers in antiquity were Babylonia-Assyria
on the one hand and Egypt on the other; only for a short time did
the Hittites and the people of Urartu play a very important rôle in the
ancient history of Western Asia. Between them lay Syria-Palestine;
hence if we look for buffer states in antiquity we might expect to find
them in that region. Now the strategical position of Syria-Palestine
in relation to these two great powers has long been recognized, but
historians do not seem to have considered it from the standpoint of
buffer states, but more from the standpoint of a bone of contention, or
the mixed character of its population and civilization, or the opportunity
of exerting an influence in all directions” (E. Meyer, Geschichte des
Altertums, zweite Auflage, I, 2, pp. 602 ff.). It is rather strange that
the other question has received so little attention, but such is the case:
while there are more or less indirect suggestions of such a situation,
the idea of buffer states receives very little consideration. No doubt
Klamroth is right in saying that the establishment of buffer states was
not foreign to Assyrian policy. At any rate the line in the inscription
of Tiglath-Pileser IV, to which he refers (II Rawlinson, 67) may well
be interpreted as implying such a policy on the part of this ruler. It
is translated by E. Schrader (Keilinschriftliche Bibliothek, II, p. 21)
as follows: “Den (Stamm) Idibi-il machte ich zur Grenzwacht gegen
Egypten”; similarly by A. S. Strong (Records of the Past, New Series,
V, p. 125): “Idibi-ili as a watch over (against) Egypt I appointed.”
(Cf. also the establishment of a Phoenician province by Tiglath-Pileser
under the rule of his own son, to hold together the states along the
Mediterranean, Hugo Winckler, Altorientalische Forschungen, II, p. 4;
cf. p. 67). The interpretation by Rogers of the significance of Gaza
and other Philistine cities [i. e. as possible buffer states for Egypt
against the Assyrian] is undoubtedly quite correct. The relation of
Israel and Judah and Assyria as reflected especially in 2 Kings 15-25,
suggests that the Egyptians also considered Syria-Palestine in the nature
of a buffer state. In describing the policy of Egypt during the eighth
century J. H. Breasted uses these words—applicable also in other centuries:
“Unable to oppose the formidable armies of Assyria, the petty
kinglets of Egypt constantly fomented discontent and revolt among the
Syro-Palestinian states in order, if possible, to create a fringe of buffer
states between them and the Assyrian” (A History of Egypt, p. 549). The
Egyptians succeeded in stirring up Hezekiah of Judah (Isa. 28-30),
whereupon Sennacherib came, severely punishing the rebel (2 Kings
18, 19; Isa. 26, 37). May it not be that the transfer of some of Hezekiah’s
territory to Ashdod, Ekron, and Gaza was for the purpose of
maintaining or intensifying the good will of these buffer states? (Taylor
Cylinder III, lines 1-26; Lehmann-Haupt, Israel, p. 122). The later
history of Judah may be interpreted on the same principle. The rapid
advance of Necoh against Assyria through the territory of Judah
(2 Kings 22:28, 29) resembles the rapid advance of the Germans
against the French, through the territory of Belgium; Nebuchadnezzar
cannot afford to lose such a valuable buffer state (2 Kings 24:1); and
after the revolt and destruction of Judah, he still attempts to maintain
a state under Gedaliah (2 Kings 25:22). The restored community, after
the exile, served as a buffer state between Persia and Egypt. Six years
ago I wrote regarding the attitude of Cyrus toward the Jews: “A clash
with Egypt was inevitable; hence it was to the interest of Cyrus to have
on the Egyptian border a state that was bound to him by the strongest
ties of gratitude, and upon the fidelity of which he could rely” (Prophecy
and the Prophets, pp. 246, 247). Regarding the general policy of Cyrus
see E. Schrader, Keilinschriften und das alte Testament, dritte Auflage,
p. 115; L. W. Batten, Ezra and Nehemiah, p. 35. A similar situation
continued to exist in later ages.”
Perhaps the best ancient statement regarding the workings of Roman
diplomacy with both friendly and hostile tribes beyond the Rhine is in
Flavius Vopiscus, Probus, ch. 14 and 15, especially the succinct report of
Probus himself to the senate (15, 2): “Omnes iam barbari vobis arant,
vobis iam serunt et contra interiores gentes militant”. Though the period
is late this is the same policy as that inaugurated by Augustus, perfected
by Tiberius, and maintained doubtless by all the abler emperors.