Rome's Greatest Defeat

by Adrian Murdoch

  Waldgirmes, in the state of Hesse, is situated only 2km away from what was probably one of Drusus’ marching camps at Dorlar. In the late 1990s the foundations of a stone structure were uncovered at the site. Most military camps at the time were primarily made of wood. But what caused the sensation is that, as the 2,200sq-m structure emerged from the soil, it began to look unmistakably like a forum – the heart of Roman civic life. There is evidence here of a clear and deliberate shift from conquest to direct rule.

  Although less than half of the site has, to date, been excavated, it is clear that this was a civilian, not a military settlement. It was a theory confirmed by the discovery of an advanced lead-pipe water system and a distinctly urban architecture – store fronts with porticos facing the street and traces of blocks of flats. Industry, too, has a distinctly urban flavour, with evidence found of the production of pottery and value items like statuary and metal objects.

  But it is the forum that has justifiably excited archaeologists the most. The 54m by 45m half-timbered building was the heart of the town. A central court, dominated by a monumental gilt equestrian statue of which parts (to date almost a hundred) have been found, gave on to a long hall supported by ten pillars. This, in turn, led to three annexes, a larger, central, 100sq-m room, flanked by two slightly smaller apses, all three likely to have been part of the municipal administration. It compares favourably in size to similar dated fora in Astorga in Spain, Herdoniae in Italy and Les-Fins-d’Annecy in France.

  Many of the other finds, the highlights of which include beautiful, multi-coloured glass gems and jewellery as well as the inevitable ceramics, are not just the familiar detritus of Roman provincial civilian life, but the indication of a certain level of prosperity. The amount of Germanic pottery that has been found (some 25 per cent – a massive proportion) suggests a fair amount of assimilation, a sign that German and Roman lived side by side.

  The frustrating question remains that of when the town was founded. It is a matter of considerable debate.38 Dates from the end of Tiberius’ first pacification campaigns in 6 BC to as late as the start of Varus’ governorship have all been posited. What is not disputed is that although in the end the town of Waldgirmes was to stand for only a short time, the settlement was quite clearly intended for permanence. When the events of AD 9 took the inhabitants by surprise, the town was undergoing a period of reconstruction.

  Slightly further north from Waldgirmes, evidence from Haltern suggests that Waldgirmes was not an experiment. Although it is best known as a military site, it is the civilian settlement nearby that confirms the attempt at permanence seen at Waldgirmes. While it is clear that this had evolved out of the lean-tos of the colonists who followed in the wake of the army, an aqueduct with lead piping has been discovered, which suggests that the empire thought a proper water system a worthwhile investment. There are also clear indications that Haltern was turning into a manufacturing base. Entrepreneurial potters frequently and profitably set up businesses next to camps, but here it goes much beyond immediate local use. Samian pottery thrown by the same manufacturer has been found in Neuss, Cologne and as far away as Wiesbaden.

  That the process of assimilation was not entirely one-way can be seen in the Main valley at the native German settlement of Gaukönigshofen in Bavaria. Excavations which have taken place since the 1980s have revealed not just the expected smaller metal finds, but a considerable amount of Roman pottery which can be dated to between roughly 5 BC and AD 9. Gaukönigshofen is close to the double legionary camp at Marktbreit, which marks the Roman route of advance east from Mainz, and the fort is quite clearly the source of the tableware, but there is no reason to suggest a hostile explanation for the appearance of Roman pottery in the village. This again implies a broader acceptance of Rome than has been previously suggested.

  Seventy years earlier, the great orator Cicero had said that a great general needed four qualities: military experience, bravery, prestige and luck.39 To date, Varus had proved that he had all of them. A career diplomat with significant military experience was exactly what the Romans needed in Germany. With reports of massive building programmes, altars being dedicated, towns being founded, it is no wonder that Germany was deemed all but taken. Now that imperial attention was on Maroboduus and then the Pannonian revolt, someone who could be trusted in the north was what Augustus needed. Whatever mistakes that Varus was to make in September AD 9, there is no doubt that he was the perfect man for the job.

  THREE

  Pore Benighted ’Eathen

  The Romans had nursed a viper. By almost any possible standards, Arminius was a traitor and a turncoat. The revolt of the Cheruscan chieftain should not be seen just as an uprising against hated invaders of his country: it was the mutiny of a Roman officer against his commanders. Yet how did this 27-year-old manage to unite enough men to wipe out three legions, hold off the Roman commander Germanicus, sent to punish him, and then defeat Maroboduus, king of the Marcomanni?

  Arminius’ tribe, the Cherusci, dominated the area that roughly corresponds to the southern part of the modern state of Lower Saxony, between the River Elbe to the east and the Weser to the west. The etymology of the name is uncertain, although it certainly appears to be Germanic. The most likely explanation is that the tribal name is somehow connected with the word *herut, meaning ‘stag’. Precise boundaries are not possible to pin down and would have been meaningless to Arminius anyway. Apart from the general difficulties in identifying a location from the description of classical historians and geographers, the Cherusci are more difficult to pin down than most. It also does not help matters that the ancient sources do not distinguish between the Cheruscan homeland proper and the wider territory over which they had influence.

  Most of the writings that have survived locate the tribe in relation to its neighbours. Thus for the second-century Egyptian geographer Ptolemy, they appear to have been the western neighbours of the Sugambri, with the Bructeri to the south-east.1 North of the Cherusci, in the vicinity of Lake Steinhuder, near Hannover, were the Angrivarii, and to the south, so Julius Caesar tells us, they were separated from the great Suebi by the forest the Romans called the silva Bacenis, the natural frontier that separated the north German plain from the south.2 So topographically they appear to have been well protected.

  Archaeological research in what was Cheruscan territory remains in its infancy. Because of the nationalist associations that grew up around Arminius in the nineteenth century and up to the Second World War, understandably little work has been carried out on native settlements in Lower Saxony in modern times. Most of the archaeology that has taken place has been of the rescue variety. Indeed up to 1996, only fifty-six settlement sites had been identified in the tribe’s territory. The finds at Kalkriese have given research into the period a welcome boost and in recent years a picture has started to emerge of an area much more populous than originally thought. Some 201 settlements have now been found, some of which, such as Hehlen and Schwiegershausen, appear to point to a level of sophistication, though the field requires much more work.

  But there is enough evidence to allow us to make some generalised comments. The Roman image of the German countryside was dismissive and patronising. These barbarians were not farmers. The Germans ‘are much engaged in hunting; which circumstance must, by the nature of their food, be their daily exercise and the freedom of their life,’ writes Julius Caesar. The Germani would rather pick a fight than plough the land and wait patiently for the year’s produce, says Tacitus.3

  In actual fact it was a significantly agrarian countryside based on crops and a wide variety of animal husbandry, predominantly cows, pigs and sheep. Goats and chickens appear less often. Palaeobotanical research can reveal what the countryside at the time was like. In the early Roman period, the plains to the west of the Cologne basin were being cleared to make way for cereal crops, while the grasslands and the heaths were being maintained for cattle. In what is now the state of Hesse, too, there are significant traces
of cereal farming, specifically rye, and again some indication of the management of grasslands. This level of farming sophistication, the practice of techniques like crop rotation and fertilisation, does come through in some Roman writings, specifically in the Natural History by Pliny the Elder. He singles out the tribe of the Ubii for their techniques of fertilising farmland.4

  It would be fair to say that the wide and varied German diet was not that far removed from the one of only a couple of generations ago. Beef and pork were meat staples (curiously, surveys suggest that fewer than 10 per cent of bones found on Germanic sites are from wild animals);5 dairy products were common. Analysis of grains from pollen spectra gives evidence that there was a clear emphasis on barley, oats and some strains of wheat (primarily spelt, emmer and einkorn), while favourite vegetables were predominately peas, beans and lentils. All of this was supplemented with fruits and berries. It is an unresolved curiosity that while Roman settlers in the country grew fruits and spices, there is little evidence of these in German sites. We simply do not know if Germans did not want them, or if they were unable to maintain them.

  The countryside was dotted with isolated farmsteads or clusters of farms. Other than occasional stone foundations here or a wooden portico there, the traditional architectural style of rectangular, timber-framed long houses with lateral entrances remained largely unchanged for the entire Roman period. Iron production, too, was both common and of as high a quality as that of Rome, something reflected in the legends that surrounded smiths in later times. Excavations of most sites that can be claimed to be villages show that they boasted their own smithies that churned out weapons, ploughshares and other farm equipment and nails.

  Estimating the population of Germany in Roman times is an exercise in guesswork and no definite answer is possible. Nonetheless, it is possible to come up with a plausible estimate for population density by analysing the size of settlements and examining cemeteries. As a rule of thumb, the population of Germany was around a twentieth of what it is today, making it a comparatively populous region in the ancient world.

  Nor would it be true to say that the ground was being tilled, crops were being managed and animals were being reared in isolation. This was not just subsistence farming. The discovery of granaries, specifically in northern Gaul and along the lower Rhine, suggests surplus production. Again this is confirmed by the literary sources. The very first reference to Germans in Roman history dates from the writings of the philosopher and historian Posidonius from the mid-first century BC. Although it was originally fifty-two books long, little of his Histories has survived – only a couple of lines about the Germanic diet which are quoted by a later author.6 But from the reference to their fondness for wine (given that grapes were not yet grown in Germany), it is clear that trading did occur.

  Although the Cherusci are mentioned by Julius Caesar, they first assume an importance for Rome with Drusus’ second campaign. In 11 BC he pushed through their territory towards the River Weser, an action he repeated the following year. Cheruscan reaction to these incursions is not clear, though Cassius Dio’s report that Drusus ‘pillaged everything in his path’ suggests that there was some confrontation. The Cherusci, either not in a position, or not inclined, to fight back, appear to have reacted by withdrawing across the River Elbe. This would appear to be the event alluded to in Suetonius’ biography of the Emperor Augustus, when he writes that the Germans were ‘forced back to the far side of the River Elbe’. Two years on, the Cherusci can presumably be included in Dio’s comment that ‘all the barbarians except the Sugambri . . . made overtures of peace’7 during Tiberius’ campaigns in 8 BC.

  Depending on the number of legionaries that the tribesmen were facing, Roman–Cheruscan encounters so far were aggressive or placatory in turn. There was little to distinguish them from the other Germanic tribes. It is not until the governorship of Lucius Domitius Ahenobarbus around the turn of the millennium that we have the first indication of a shift in status, or at least a shift in intent on the part of the Romans. Our only evidence is an opaque line in a fragmentary passage in Cassius Dio’s history. ‘Later, Ahenobarbus had transferred his headquarters to the Rhine, had failed to secure the return of certain Cheruscan exiles through the efforts of intermediaries and this failure had caused feelings of contempt for the Romans among other barbarian tribes,’ he writes.8

  It would be dangerous to concoct a political history from this, but some points do become clear. Ahenobarbus appears to have attempted to restore Cheruscan exiles. There is no indication whether this was a struggle to do with the broader Cheruscan relationship to Rome or whether some Cheruscans were trying to harness Roman might to solve an internal factional purpose. Nonetheless even though there is no indication of the status of these exiles it does suggest that different parties were at play in the Cheruscan hierarchy almost a decade before the revolt.

  For the next three years, as discussed in chapter one, Germany was in the grips of a revolt. Although the Cherusci were players, they do not appear to have been prime instigators. Following Tiberius’ campaigns of AD 4 (during which time Velleius Paterculus writes, ‘The Cherusci . . . were again subjugated’)9 until the revolt of AD 9, the tribe appears to have been an ally of Rome.

  A deliberate aspect of the policy of Romanisation and of conquest was the nurturing of allies among the local tribes. The Romans were doing it with the Cherusci, just as they had done with other Germanic tribes like the Batavians and the Ubians. Alongside steps such as the introduction of urbanism, which helped break down tribal affiliations and was discussed in the previous chapter, Rome promoted leading tribal leaders within Rome’s imperial aristocracy. By recognising certain chiefs as allies, barbarians were flattered into becoming emissaries for the Roman way of life. It was a practice that first bound them to Rome, then made them dependent on her. The policy of treating Germanic leaders differently from their warriors both isolated them and distanced them from their own people. In the end, tribal leaders ended up having a stake in maintaining Roman rule. It was a remarkably refined form of divide and conquer.

  With great perception, Tacitus himself describes the deliberate steps in this cynical game of political seduction. First of all there was the private encouragement and public aid to build the infrastructure of Roman life: temples, courts and homes. Healthy competition rather than compulsion was encouraged. Then both the Latin language and the toga became fashionable. ‘Step by step they were led to things which dispose to vice, the lounge, the bath, the elegant banquet,’ he writes with studied irony before famously concluding, ‘all this in their ignorance they called civilisation, when it was but a part of their slavery.’10 Of course Tacitus was here articulating policy with reference to the invasion of Britain. Nonetheless, Varus in Germany followed the same path as Agricola was to do on the other side of the Channel.

  Though the obvious weakness of this policy was that the lounge, the baths and the banquets had to be perceived as of value, many chiefs were keen to take Rome’s shilling. Numerous examples of what must have been diplomatic gifts have been found. The grave of a local king found near Musov in Moravia in 1988, only 35km north of the Danube frontier, reveals an incredible array of prestige goods, including eight bronze vessels, several of silver, a bronze lamp, two silver spoons, numerous other ceramic and glass items and, above all, a stunning bronze cauldron with the busts of Germanic warriors as handle attachments. In Hoby, on the Danish island of Lolland, excavations of the grave of a chieftain dating to the first century AD revealed a wonderful treasure, including two silver bowls that display the events of the Trojan War in relief. Most significant of all is the ornate seventy-piece silver dinner service known as the Hildesheim treasure, which was found in what was Cheruscan territory and is now on display in the Altes Museum in Berlin. Although its precise role as a gift is debated (for many years it was described as Varus’ own dinner service), it is an indication of the richness with which native loyalty was bought.

  The role that subsi
dies played should not be ignored either. Less subtle than diplomatic gifts, in some cases, the Senate simply opened its cheque book. Rome had used cash to shore up allied support in Republican times in the wars against Hannibal and it had also been part of Julius Caesar’s foreign policy. More recently it had been used to great effect in Germany particularly. ‘We rarely assist [the Germanic tribes] with our arms, but frequently with our money; nor are they the less potent on that account,’ writes Tacitus.11

  Despite what, with hindsight, may seem the obvious flaws of a strategy that centred on winning over the barbarians, it frequently worked. One of the tribes in north-west Germany around the River Ems remained loyal to Rome throughout this period and beyond. The Ampsivarii chief, Boiocalus, was to suffer imprisonment by Arminius for his allegiance to Rome but remained true throughout and for the next fifty years.12 The fact that he was not deposed by either internal or external agents suggests that the majority of his tribe believed there was a distinct benefit to being on the side of Rome. This was hardly the Faustian pact that Tacitus depicts.

  With the understandable emphasis on the political and the military, the other weapon at the disposal of the Romans has often been overlooked: they also had commerce. To begin with, the trade was to a great extent one-way. The Germanic tribes allowed Roman merchants in, not to buy from them, but to exchange war booty. The price of free movement was clearly the giving of elaborate gifts. This increasingly created a demand for Roman luxuries. Large numbers of bronze vessels, silver tableware, brooches, wine vessels and even statues have all been found in the graves of German chieftains. The breadth of finds – from Holland, across northern Germany and Scandinavia, into the heart of western Russia – is remarkable.