The Historians' History of the World 06

The camps of Varus were still standing; by the contracted wall of circumvallation it could be seen that they had sheltered but the remnant of the army. The bones of the fallen were bleaching on the battle-field, here in heaps, there scattered, according as an attempt had been made at flight or resistance; among the human bodies lay broken weapons and the skeletons of horses; hollow skulls stared down from the tree trunks; and in the groves close at hand could be seen the altars at which the tribunes and centurions had been slaughtered to the gods. Some who had escaped from the fight or from captivity pointed out the places where the legates had fallen, where Varus had received his first wound and where he had thrust the sword into his breast; where Arminius had addressed the multitude, where the prisoners had been strung up, where the eagles had been taken and flouted.

The army, filled with mingled grief and wrath, buried the bones of the three legions six years after their defeat, and no man knew whose remains he was covering with earth, whether those of a brother or a stranger. Cæsar himself laid the first sod of a tumulus, the last gift to the departed, a witness of sympathetic grief to those present. Tiberius, however, disapproved of the interment of the bodies, either thinking that the soldiers would be cast down and discouraged by the terrible sight, or suspecting that in this act the general was courting the favour of the army and of the people.

The Return March

After a skirmish with Arminius, in which the Roman cavalry suffered great loss in the swampy bottom of the wood, Germanicus set out on his return march. While he himself with his legions sailed from the mouth of the Amisia along the coast the way he had come, accompanied by the crippled cavalry on land, Cæcina, an experienced warrior who had seen forty campaigns, marched with the bulk of the army on the left of the Luppia towards the Rhine over the long causeway which Domitius had once laid across the bog land.

This plan of operations brought the Romans into great straits. The causeway of piles was interrupted in many places, and the forty cohorts which Cæcina led over the slippery ground, hemmed in by impassable ravines and morasses, surrounded by the Germans and distraught by constant attacks, were in danger of succumbing to the fate of Varus. Exhausted and covered with wounds in the unequal struggle by day, they were alarmed and terrified at night by the wild war songs of the enemy encamped on the higher ground; imagination presented to their overwrought minds the hideous images of death which they had seen in the Teutoburg forest. In his dreams Cæcina saw the bloody figure of Quintilius Varus rise from the marsh and beckon him. They had lost their baggage in two days of fruitless fighting, and with exhausted strength saw certain destruction staring them in the face.

Then the Germans in the insolence of triumph and the wary Cæcina in his superior military skill wrought them an unexpected deliverance. A premature assault upon the hostile camp, attempted by the Germans against the advice of Arminius and at the instigation of Inguiomer, was driven back by a sudden charge of the Romans. Inguiomer left the field severely wounded and the Germans withdrew into the mountains in disorder, pursued by the enemy. Cæcina then led his legions rapidly to the Rhine. But rumours of disaster had outstripped them; men believed that the army was already annihilated, and in imagination saw the enemy rushing upon themselves. They were in the act of making preparations to destroy the bridges about Vetera when Agrippina hurried thither and prevented the cowardly deed. And when the army arrived this heroic woman, standing like a general at the head of the bridge, welcomed it with friendly greetings, nursed the wounded, and bestowed gifts on those who had been plundered.

A Roman Emperor

(After De Montfaucon)

Germanicus arrived soon after with his troops, likewise preceded by rumours of disaster. And in truth they too had passed through great dangers. Owing to the shallowness of the water only two legions could be put on board; the legate Vitellius was to lead the rest along the margin of the sea. But this latter body was overtaken by the tide, which rose breast-high around the soldiers and put an end to all order; waves and eddies carried men and beasts away; draught cattle, baggage, and corpses drifted hither and thither in the water. They escaped destruction narrowly and with heavy loss. Germanicus and Agrippina exerted themselves to the utmost to make them forget their sorrows and hardships by condescension and kindly encouragement, by attention and rewards; and Gaul, Spain, and Italy vied with one another in the effort to make good their losses in arms, horses, and money.