BOOK VI

A.D. 32-37.

Cneius Domitius and Camillus Scribonianus had begun their Consulship,

when the Emperor, having crossed the channel between Capreae [Footnote:

Capri.] and Surrentum, [Footnote: Sorrento.] sailed along the shore

of Campania; unresolved whether he should proceed to Rome; or

counterfeiting a show of coming, because he had determined not to come.

He often approached to the neighbourhood of the city, and even visited

the gardens upon the Tiber; but at last resumed his old retirement,

the gloomy rocks and solitude of the sea, ashamed of his cruelties, and

abominable lusts; in which he rioted so outrageously, that after the

fashion of royal tyrants, the children of ingenuous parentage became the

objects of his pollution: nor in them was he struck with a lovely face

only, or the graces of their persons; but in some their amiable and

childish innocence, in others their nobility and the glory of their

ancestors, became the provocatives of his unnatural passion. Then

likewise were devised the filthy names, till then unknown, of the

_Sellarii_ and _Spintriae_, expressing the odious lewdness of the place,

and the manifold postures and methods of prostitution practised in it.

For supplying his lust with these innocent victims, he entertained, in

his service professed procurers, to look them out and carry them off.

The willing they encouraged with presents, the backward they terrified

with threats; and upon such parents or kindred as withheld the infants,

they exercised force, seizure, and, as upon so many captives, every

species of licentious rage.

At Rome in the beginning of the year, as if the iniquities of Livia

had been but just discovered, and not even long since punished, furious

orders were passed against her statues too, and memory; with another,

"that the effects of Sejanus should be taken from the public treasury,

and placed in that of the Emperor:" as if this vain translation could

any wise avail the State. And yet such was the motion of these great

names, the Scipios, the Silani, and the Cassii; who urged it, each

almost in the same words, but all with mighty zeal and earnestness: when

all on a sudden, Togonius Gallus, while he would be thrusting his own

meanness amongst names so greatly illustrious, became the object of

derision: for he besought the Prince "to choose a body of Senators

of whom twenty, drawn by lot and under arms, should wait upon him and

defend his person, as often as he entered the Senate." He had been weak

enough to credit a letter from the Emperor, requiring "the guard and

protection of one of the Consuls, that he might return in safety from

Capreae to Rome." Tiberius however returned thanks to the Senate for

such an instance of affection; but as he was wont to mix pleasantry with

things serious, he asked, "How was it to be executed? what Senators were

to be chosen? who to be omitted? whether always the same, or a continued

succession? whether young Senators, or such as had borne dignities?

whether those who were Magistrates, or those exercising no magistracy?

moreover what a becoming figure they would make, grave Senators, men of

the gown, under arms at the entrance of the Senate! in truth he held not

his life of such importance, to have it thus protected by arms." So much

in answer to Togonius, without asperity of words; nor did he farther,

than this, press them to cancel the motion.

But Junius Gallio escaped not thus. He had proposed "that the Praetorian

soldiers, having accomplished their term of service, should thence

acquire the privilege of sitting in the fourteen rows of the theatre

allotted to the Roman knights." Upon him Tiberius fell with violent

wrath, and, as if present, demanded, what business had he with the

soldiers? men whose duty bound them to observe only the orders of the

Emperor, and from the Emperor alone to receive their rewards. Gallio had

forsooth discovered a recompense which had escaped the sagacity of the

deified Augustus? Or was it not rather a project started by a mercenary

of Sejanus, to raise sedition and discord; a project tending to debauch

the rude minds of the soldiers with the show and bait of new honour; to

corrupt their discipline, and set them loose from military restrictions?

This reward, had the studied flattery of Gallio; who was instantly

expelled the Senate, and then Italy: nay, it became a charge upon him,

that his exile would be too easy, having for the place of it chosen

Lesbos, an island noble and delightful; he was therefore haled back to

Rome and confined a prisoner in the house of a Magistrate. Tiberius

in the same letter demanded the doom of Sextus Paconianus, formerly

Praetor, to the extreme joy of the Senate, as he was a man bold and

mischievous, one armed with snares, and continually diving into the

purposes and secret transactions of all men; and one chosen by Sejanus,

for plotting the overthrow of Caligula. When this was now laid open,

the general hate and animosities long since conceived against him, broke

violently out, and had he not offered to make a discovery, he had been

instantly condemned to death.

The next impeached was Cotta Messalinus, the author of every the

most bloody counsel, and thence long and intensely hated. The first

opportunity was therefore snatched to fall upon him with a combination

of crimes; as that he had called Caius Caligula by the feminine name of

_Caia Caligula_, and branded him with constuprations of both kinds; that

when he celebrated among the Priests the birthday of Augusta, he had

styled the entertainment a _funeral supper_; and that complaining of the

great sway of Marcus Lepidus, and of Lucius Arruntius, with whom he had

a suit about money, he had added; "they indeed will be supported by the

Senate, but I by my little Tiberius." [Footnote: Tiberiolus meus.] Of

all this he stood exposed to conviction by men of the first rank in

Rome; who being earnest to attack him, he appealed to Caesar: from whom

soon after a letter was brought in behalf of Cotta; in it he recounted

"the beginning of their friendship," repeated "his many good services

to himself," and desired "that words perversely construed, and humorous

tales told at an entertainment, might not be wrested into crimes."

Most remarkable was the beginning of that letter; for in these words he

introduced it: "What to write you, Conscript Fathers, or in what

manner to write, or what at all not to write at this instant; if I can

determine, may all the Deities, Gods and Goddesses, doom me still

to more cruel agonies than those under which I feel myself perishing

daily." So closely did the bloody horror of his cruelties and infamy

haunt this man of blood, and became his torturers! Nor was it at random

what the wisest of all men [Footnote: Socrates.] was wont to affirm,

that if the hearts of tyrants were displayed, in them might be seen

deadly wounds and gorings, and all the butcheries of fear and rage;

seeing what the severity of stripes is to the body, the same to the

soul is the bitter anguish of cruelty, lust, and execrable pursuits.

To Tiberius not his imperial fortune, not his gloomy and inaccessible

solitudes could ensure tranquillity; nor exempt him from feeling and

even avowing the rack in his breast and the avenging furies that pursued

him.

After this, it was left to the discretion of the Senate to proceed as

they listed against Caecilianus the Senator, "who had loaded Cotta with

many imputations;" and it was resolved, "to subject him to the same

penalties inflicted upon Aruseius and Sanquinius, the accusers of

Lucius Annuntius." A more signal instance of honour than this had never

befallen Cotta; who noble in truth, but through luxury indigent, and,

for the baseness of his crimes, detestable, was by the dignity of

this amends equalled in character to the most venerable reputation and

virtues of Arruntius.

About the same time died Lucius Piso, the Pontiff; and, by a felicity,

then rare in so much splendour and elevation, died by the course of

nature. The author he never himself was of any servile motion, and ever

wise in moderating such motions from others, where necessity enforced

his assent. That his father had sustained the sublime office of Censor,

I have before remembered: he himself lived to fourscore years, and for

his warlike feats in Thrace, had obtained the glory of triumph. But from

hence arose his most distinguished glory, that being created Governor

of Rome, a jurisdiction newly instituted, and the more difficult, as

not yet settled into public reverence, he tempered it wonderfully and

possessed it long.

For, of old, to supply the absence of the Kings, and afterwards of the

Consuls, that the city might not remain without a ruler, a temporary

Magistrate was appointed to administer justice, and watch over

exigencies: and it is said that by Romulus was deputed Denter Romulius;

Numa Marcius, by Tullus Hostilius; and by Tarquin the Proud, Spurius

Lucretius. The same delegation was made by the Consuls; and there

remains still a shadow of the old institution, when during the Latin

festival, one is authorised to discharge the Consular function.

Moreover, Augustus during the Civil Wars, committed to Cilnius Maecenas

of the Equestrian Order, the Government of Rome and of all Italy.

Afterwards, when sole master of the Empire, and moved by the immense

multitude of people and the slowness of relief from the laws, he chose

a Consular to bridle the licentiousness of the slaves, and to awe such

turbulent citizens as are only quiet from the dread of chastisement.

Messala Corvinus was the first invested with this authority, and in a

few days dismissed, as a man insufficient to discharge it. It was then

filled by Taurus Statilius, who, though very ancient, sustained it with

signal honour. After him Piso held it for twenty years, with a credit so

high and uninterrupted, that he was distinguished with a public funeral,

by decree of the Senate.

A motion was thereafter made in Senate by Quinctilianus, Tribune of the

People, concerning a Book of the Sibyl, which Caninius Gallus, one

of the College of Fifteen, had prayed "might be received by a decree

amongst the rest of that Prophetess." The decree passed without

opposition, but was followed by letters from Tiberius. In them having

gently chid the Tribune, "as young and therefore unskilled in the

ancient usages," he upbraided Gallus, "that he who was so long practised

in the science of sacred ceremonies, should without taking the opinion

of his own college, without the usual reading and deliberation with

the other Priests, deal, by surprise, with a thin Senate, to admit a

prophetic book of an uncertain author." He also advertised them "of

the conduct of Augustus, who, to suppress the multitude of fictious

predictions everywhere published under the solemn name of the Sibyl, had

ordained, that within a precise day, they should be carried to the City

Praetor; and made it unlawful to keep them in private hands." The same

had likewise been decreed by our ancestors, when after the burning of

the capitol in the Social War, the Rhymes of the Sibyl (whether there

were but one, or more) were everywhere sought, in Samos, Ilium, and

Erythrae, through Africa too and Sicily and all the Roman colonies, with

injunctions to the Priests, that, as far as human wit could enable them,

they would separate the genuine. Therefore, upon this occasion also, the

book was subjected to the inspection of the Quindecimvirate.

Under the same Consuls, the dearth of corn had nigh raised a sedition.

The populace for many days urged their wants and demands in the public

theatre, with a licentiousness towards the Emperor, higher than usual.

He was alarmed with this bold spirit, and censured the Magistrates and

Senate, "that they had not by the public authority quelled the people."

He recounted "the continued supplies of grain which he had caused to be

imported; from what provinces, and in how much greater abundance than

those procured by Augustus." So that for correcting the populace,

a decree passed framed in the strain of ancient severity: nor less

vigorous was the edict published by the Consuls. His own silence, which

he hoped would be taken by the people as an instance of moderation, was

by them imputed to his pride.

In the meanwhile, the whole band of accusers broke loose upon those who

augmented their wealth by usury, in contradiction to a law of Caesar

the Dictator, "for ascertaining the terms of lending money, and holding

mortgages in Italy;" a law waxed long since obsolete, through the

selfish passions of men, sacrificing public good to private gain. Usury

was, in truth, an inveterate evil in Rome, and the eternal cause of

civil discord and seditions, and therefore restrained even in ancient

times, while the public manners were not yet greatly corrupted. For,

first it was ordained by a law of the twelve tables, "that no man should

take higher interest than twelve in the hundred;" when, before, it was

exacted at the pleasure of the rich. Afterwards by a regulation of the

Tribunes it was reduced to six, and at last was quite abolished. By the

people, too, repeated statutes were made, for obviating all elusions,

which by whatever frequent expedients repressed, were yet through

wonderful devices still springing up afresh. Gracchus the Praetor was

therefore now appointed to inquire into the complaints and allegations

of the accusers; but, appalled with the multitude of those threatened

by the accusation, he had recourse to the Senate. The Fathers also were

dismayed (for of this fault not a soul was guiltless) and sought and

obtained impunity from the Prince; and a year and six months were

granted for balancing all accounts between debtors and creditors,

agreeably to the direction of the law.

Hence a great scarcity of money: for, besides that all debts were at

once called in; so many delinquents were condemned, that by the sale of

their effects, the current coin was swallowed up in the public treasury,

or in that of the Emperor. Against this stagnation, the Senate had

provided, "that two-thirds of the debts should by every creditor be

laid out upon lands in Italy." But the creditors warned in the whole;

[Footnote: Demanded payment in full.] nor could the debtors without

breach of faith divide the payment. So that at first, meetings and

entreaties were tried; and at last it was contested before the Praetor.

And the project applied as a remedy; namely, that the debtor should

sell, and the creditor buy, had a contrary operation: for the usurers

hoarded up all their treasure for purchasing of lands, and the plenty

of estates to be sold, miserably sinking the price; the more men were

indebted, the more difficult they found it to sell. Many were utterly

stripped of their fortunes; and the ruin of their private patrimony drew

headlong with it that of their reputation and all public preferment.

The destruction was going on, when the Emperor administered relief, by

lending a hundred thousand great sesterces [Footnote: About £830,000.]

for three years, without interest; provided each borrower pawned to the

people double the value in inheritance. [Footnote: Gave a security to

the State, on landed property.] Thus was credit restored; and by degrees

private lenders too were found.

About the same time, Claudia, daughter to Marcus Silanus, was given in

marriage to Caligula, who had accompanied his grandfather to Capreae,

having always hid under a subdolous guise of modesty, his savage and

inhuman spirit: even upon the condemnation of his mother, even for the

exile of his brothers, not a word escaped him, not a sigh, nor groan.

So blindly observant of Tiberius, that he studied the bent of his temper

and seemed to possess it; practised his looks, imitated the change and

fashion of his dress, and affected his words and manner of expression.

Hence the observation of Passienus the Orator, grew afterwards famous,

"that never lived a better slave nor a worse master." Neither would I

omit the presage of Tiberius concerning Galba, then Consul. Having sent

for him and sifted him upon several subjects, he at last told him in

Greek, "and thou, Galba, shalt hereafter taste of Empire;" signifying

his late and short sovereignty. This he uttered from his skill in

astrology, which at Rhodes he had leisure to learn; and Thrasullus for

his teacher, whose capacity he proved by this following trial.

As often as he consulted this way concerning any affair, he retired to

the roof of the house, attended by one freedman trusted with the secret.

This man strong of body, but destitute of letters, guided along the

astrologer, whose art Tiberius meant to try, over solitary precipices

(for upon a rock the house stood) and, as he returned, if any suspicion

arose that his predictions were vain, or that the author designed fraud,

cast him headlong into the sea, to prevent his making discoveries.

Thrasullus being therefore led over the same rocks, and minutely

consulted, his answers were full, and struck Tiberius; as approaching

Empire and many future revolutions were specifically foretold him. The

artist was then questioned, "whether he had calculated his own nativity,

and thence presaged what was to befall him that same year, nay,

that very day?" Thrasullus surveying the positions of the stars, and

calculating their aspects, began at first to hesitate, then to quake,

and the more he meditated, being more and more dismayed with wonder

and dread, he at last cried out, "that over him just then hung a

boding danger and well-nigh fatal." Forthwith Tiberius embraced him,

congratulated him "upon his foresight of perils, and his security

from them;" and esteeming his predictions as so many oracles, held him

thenceforward in the rank of his most intimate friends.

For myself, while I listen to these and the like relations, my judgment

wavers, whether things human are in their course and rotation determined

by Fate and immutable necessity, or left to roll at random. For upon

this subject the wisest of the ancients and those addicted to their

Sects, are of opposite sentiments. [Footnote: The Epicureans.] Many are

of opinion "that to the Gods neither the generation of us men nor our

death, and in truth neither men nor the actions of men, are of any

importance or concernment: and thence such numberless calamities afflict

the upright, while pleasure and prosperity surround the wicked." Others

[Footnote: The Stoics.] hold the contrary position, and believe "a Fate

to preside over events; a fate however not resulting from wandering

stars, but coeval with the first principles of things, and operating by

the continued connection of natural causes. Yet their philosophy leaves

our course of life in our own free option; but that after the choice is

made, the chain of consequences is inevitable: neither is that good or

evil, which passes for such in the estimation of the vulgar: many, who

seem wounded with adversity, are yet happy; numbers, that wallow

in wealth, are yet most wretched: since the first often bear with

magnanimity the blows of fortune; and the latter abuse her bounty in

baneful pursuits." For the rest, it is common to multitudes of men "to

have each their whole future fortunes determined from the moment of

their birth: or if some events thwart the prediction, it is through the

mistakes of such as pronounce at random, and thence debase the credit

of an art, which, both in ages past and our own, hath given signal

instances of its certainty." For, to avoid lengthening this digression,

I shall remember in its order, how by the son of this same Thrasullus

the Empire was predicted to Nero.

During the same Consulship flew abroad the death of Asinius Gallus: that

he perished through famine was undoubted; but whether of his own accord,

or by constraint, was held uncertain. The pleasure of the Emperor

being consulted, "whether he would suffer him to be buried;" he was

not ashamed to grant such a piece of mock mercy, nor even to blame the

anticipations of casualty, which had withdrawn the criminal, before he

was publicly convicted: as if during three intermediate years between

his accusation and his death, there wanted time for the trial of an

ancient Consular, and the father of so many Consulars. Next perished

Drusus, condemned by his grandfather to be starved; but by gnawing the

weeds upon which he lay, he by that miserable nourishment protracted

life the space of nine days. Some authors relate that, in case Sejanus

had resisted and taken arms, Macro had instructions to draw the young

man out of confinement (for he was kept in the palace) and set him

at the head of the people: afterwards because a report ran, "that the

Emperor was about to be reconciled to his daughter-in-law and grandson;"

he chose rather to gratify himself by cruelty, than the public by

relenting.

Tiberius not satiated with the death of Drusus, even after death pursued

him with cruel invectives, and, in a letter to the Senate, charged him

with "a body foul with prostitution; with a spirit breathing destruction

to his own family, and rage against the Republic;" and ordered to be

recited "the minutes of his words and actions, which had been long and

daily registered," A proceeding more black with horror could not

be devised! That for so many years, there should be those expressly

appointed, who were to note down his looks, his groans, his secret

and extorted murmurs; that his grandfather should delight to hear the

treacherous detail, to read it, and to the public expose it, would

appear a series of fraud, meanness and amazement beyond all measure of

faith, were it not for the letters of Actius the Centurion, and Didymus

the Freedman; who in them declare, particularly, the names of the slaves

set purposely to abuse and provoke Drusus, with the several parts they

acted; how one struck him going out of his chamber, and how another

filled him with terrors and dismay. The Centurion too repeated, as

matter of glory, his own language to Drusus, language full of outrage

and barbarity, with the words uttered by him under the agonies of

famine; that, at first, feigning disorder of spirit, he vented, in the

style of a madman, dismal denunciations against Tiberius; but after

all hopes of life had forsaken him, then, in steady and deliberate

imprecations, he invoked the direful vengeance of the Gods, "that as he

had slaughtered his son's wife, slaughtered the son of his brother, and

his son's sons, and with slaughters had filled his own house; so they

would in justice to the ancestors of the slain, in justice to their

posterity, doom him to the dreadful penalties of so many murders."

The Senators, in truth, upon this raised a mighty din, under colour of

detesting these imprecations: but it was dread which possessed them,

and amazement, that he who had been once so dark in the practice of

wickedness, and so subtle in the concealment of his bloody spirit, was

arrived at such an utter insensibility of shame, that he could thus

remove, as it were, the covert of the walls, and represent his own

grandson under the ignominious chastisement of a Centurion, torn by the

barbarous stripes of slaves, and imploring in vain the last sustenance

of life.

Before the impressions of this grief were worn away, the death of

Agrippina was published. I suppose she had lived thus long upon the

hopes, which from the execution of Sejanus she had conceived; but,

feeling afterwards no relaxation of cruelty, death grew her choice:

unless she were bereaved of nourishment, and her decease feigned to have

been of her own seeking. For, Tiberius raged against her with abominable

imputations, reproaching her "with lewdness; as the adulteress of

Asinius Gallus; and that upon his death she became weary of life." But

these were none of her crimes: Agrippina impatient of an equal lot,

and eager for rule, had thence sacrificed to masculine ambition all the

passions and vices of women. The Emperor added, "that she departed the

same day on which Sejanus had suffered as a traitor two years before,

and that the same ought to be perpetuated by a public memorial." Nay,

he boasted of his clemency, in "that she had not been strangled, and her

body cast into the charnel of malefactors." For this, as for an instance

of mercy the Senate solemnly thanked him, and decreed "that, on the

seventeenth of October, the day of both their deaths, a yearly offering

should be consecrated to Jupiter for ever."

Not long after, Cocceius Nerva, in full prosperity of fortune, in

perfect vigour of body, formed a purpose of dying. As he was the

incessant companion of the Prince, and accomplished in the knowledge

of all laws divine and humane, Tiberius having learnt his design, was

earnest to dissuade him, examined his motives, joined entreaties, and

even declared, "how grievous to his own spirit it would prove, how

grievous to his reputation, if the nearest of his friends should

relinquish life, without any cause for dying." Nerva rejected his

reasoning, and completed his purpose by abstinence. It was alleged, by

such as knew his thoughts, that the more he saw into the dreadful source

and increase of public miseries, the more transported with indignation

and fear, he resolved to make an honest end, in the bloom of his

integrity, e'er his life and credit were assaulted. Moreover the fall of

Agrippina, by a reverse hardly credible, procured that of Plancina. She

was formerly married to Cneius Piso; and, though she exulted publicly

for the death of Germanicus, yet when Piso fell, she was protected

by the solicitations of Augusta, nor less by the known animosity of

Agrippina. But as favour and hate were now withdrawn, justice prevailed,

and being questioned for crimes long since sufficiently manifest, she

executed with her own hand that vengeance, which was rather too slow

than too severe,

In the Consulship of Paulus Fabius and Lucius Vitellius, after a long

vicissitude of ages, the phoenix arrived in Egypt, and furnished the

most learned of the natives and Greeks with matter of large and various

observations concerning that miraculous bird. The circumstances in which

they agree, with many others, that, however disputed, deserve to be

known, claim a recital here. That it is a creature sacred to the sun,

and in the fashion of its head, and diversity of feathers, distinct from

other birds, all who have described its figure, are agreed; about the

length of its life, relations vary. It is by the vulgar tradition

fixed at five hundred years: but there are those, who extend it to one

thousand four hundred and sixty-one; and assert that the three former

phoenixes appeared in reigns greatly distant, the first under Sesostris,

the next under Amasis; and that one was seen under Ptolomy the

third King of Egypt of the Macedonian race, and flew to the city of

Heliopolis, accompanied by a vast host of other birds gazing upon the

wonderful stranger. But these are, in truth, the obscure accounts of

antiquity: between Ptolomy and Tiberius the interval was shorter, not

two hundred and fifty years: hence some have believed that the present

was a spurious phoenix, and derived not its origin from the territories

of Arabia, since it observed nothing of the instinct which ancient

tradition attributes to the genuine: for that the latter having

completed his course of years, just before his death builds a nest

in his native land, and upon it sheds a generative power, from whence

arises a young one, whose first care, when he is grown, is to bury his

father: neither does he undertake it unadvisedly, but by collecting and

fetching loads of myrrh, tries his strength in great journeys; and

as soon as he finds himself equal to the burden, and fit for the long

flight, he rears upon his back his father's body, carries it quite to

the altar of the sun, and then flies away. These are uncertain tales,

and their uncertainty heightened by fables; but that this bird has been

sometimes seen in Egypt, is not questioned.

The same year the city suffered the grievous calamity of fire, which

burnt down that part of the Circus contiguous to Mount Aventine and the

Mount itself: a loss which turned to the glory of the Prince, as he paid

in money the value of the houses destroyed. A hundred thousand great

sesterces [Footnote: About £830,000.] he expended in this bounty, which

proved the more grateful to the people as he was ever sparing in private

buildings: in truth, his public works never exceeded two, the Temple of

Augustus and the scene [Footnote: The stage.] of Pompey's Theatre; nor,

when he had finished both, did he dedicate either, whether obstructed

by old age, or despising popularity. For ascertaining the damage of

particulars, the four sons-in-law of Tiberius were appointed, Cneius

Domitius, Cassius Longinus, Marcus Vincinus and Rubellius Blandus;

assisted by Publius Petronius, nominated by the Consuls. To the Emperor

likewise were decreed several honours, variously devised according to

the different drift and genius of such as proposed them. Which of these

he meant to accept, or which to reject, the approaching issue of his

days, has buried in uncertainty. For not long after, Cneius Acerronius

and Caius Pontius commenced Consuls; the last under Tiberius. The power

of Macro was already excessive; who, as he had at no time neglected the

favour of Caligula, courted it now more and more earnestly every day.

After the death of Claudia, whom I have mentioned to have been espoused

to the young Prince, he constrained Ennia his own wife to stimulate the

affections of Caligula and to secure him by a promise of marriage.

The truth is, he was one that denied nothing that opened his way to

sovereignty; for although of a tempestuous genius, he had yet in the

school of his grandfather, well acquired all the hollow guises of

dissimulation.

His spirit was known to the Emperor; hence he was puzzled about

bequeathing the Empire: and first as to his grandsons; the son of Drusus

was nearer in blood, and dearer in point of affection, but as yet a

child; the son of Germanicus had arrived at the vigour of youth, and the

zeal of the people followed him, a motive this to his grandfather,

only to hate him. He had even debates with himself concerning Claudius,

because of solid age and naturally inclined to honest pursuits; but

the defect of his faculties withstood the choice. In case he sought

a successor apart from his own family, he dreaded lest the memory of

Augustus, lest the name of the Caesars should come to be scorned and

insulted. For, it was not so much any study of his, to gratify the

present generation and secure the Roman State, as to perpetuate to

posterity the grandeur of his race. So that his mind still wavering and

his strength decaying, to the decision of fortune he permitted a counsel

to which he was now unequal. Yet he dropped certain words whence might

be gathered that he foresaw the events and revolutions which were to

come to pass after him: for, he upbraided Macro, by no dark riddle,

"that he forsook the setting sun and courted the rising:" and of

Caligula, who upon some occasional discourse ridiculed Sylla, he

foretold, "that he would have all Sylla's vices, and not one of his

virtues." Moreover, as he was, with many tears, embracing the younger of

his grandsons, and perceived the countenance of Caligula implacable and

provoked; "thou," said he, "wilt slay him, and another shall slay thee."

But, however his illness prevailed, he relinquished nothing of his vile

voluptuousness; forcing patience, and feigning health. He was wont too

to ridicule the prescriptions of physicians, and all men who, after the

age of thirty, needed to be informed by any one else, what helped or

hurted their constitutions.

At Rome, the while, were sown the sanguinary seeds of executions to be

perpetrated even after Tiberius. Laelius Balbus had with high treason

charged Acutia, some time the wife of Publius Vitellius; and, as the

Senate were, after her condemnation, decreeing a reward to the accuser,

the same was obstructed by the interposition of Junius Otho, Tribune of

the People: hence their mutual hate, which ended in the exile of Otho.

Thereafter Albucilla, who had been married to Satrius Secundus, him that

revealed the conspiracy of Sejanus, and herself famous for many amours,

was impeached of impious rites devised against the Prince. In the charge

were involved, as her associates and adulterers, Cneius Domitius, Vibius

Marsus, and Lucius Arruntius. The noble descent of Domitius I have above

declared: Marsus too was distinguished by the ancient dignities in

his house, and himself illustrious for learning. The minutes, however,

transmitted to the Senate imported, "that in the examination of the

witnesses, and torture of the slaves, Macro had presided:" neither came

these minutes accompanied with any letter from the Emperor against the

accused. Hence it was suspected, that, while he was ill, and perhaps

without his privacy, the accusations were in great measure forged by

Macro, in consequence of his notorious enmity to Arruntius.

Domitius therefore by preparing for his defence, and Marsus by seeming

determined to famish, both protracted their lives. Arruntius chose to

die; and to the importunity of his friends, urging him to try delays and

evasions, he answered, "that the same measures were not alike honourable

to all men: his own life was abundantly long; nor had he wherewithal to

reproach himself, save that he had submitted to bear thus far an old age

loaded with anxieties, exposed to daily dangers, and the cruel sport

of power; long hated as he was by Sejanus, now by Macro, always by

some reigning minister; hated through no fault of his own, but as one

irreconcilable to baseness and the iniquities of power. He might, in

truth, outlive and avoid the few and last days of Tiberius: but how

escape the youth of his heir? If upon Tiberius at such an age, and after

such consummate experience, the violent spirit of unbridled dominion had

wrought with such efficacy, as entirely to transport and change him;

was it likely that Caligula, he who had scarce outgrown his childhood,

a youth ignorant of all things, or nursed and principled in the worst,

would follow a course more righteous under the guidance of Macro; the

same Macro, who, for destroying Sejanus, was employed as the more wicked

of the two, and had since by more mischiefs and cruelties torn and

afflicted the Commonweal? For himself; he foresaw a servitude yet more

vehement, and therefore withdrew at once from the agonies of past and of

impending tyranny." Uttering these words, with the spirit of a prophet,

he opened his veins. How wisely Arruntius anticipated death, the

following times will terribly demonstrate. For Albucilla; she aimed at

her own life, but the blow being impotent, she was by order of Senate

dragged to execution in the prison. Against the ministers of her lusts

it was decreed, "that Grasidius Sacerdos, formerly Praetor, should be

exiled into an island; Pontius Fregellanus be degraded from the Senate;

and that upon Laelius Balbus the same penalty be inflicted:" his

punishment particularly proved matter of joy, as he was accounted a man

of pestilent eloquence, and prompt to attack the innocent.

About the same time, Sextus Papinius of a Consular family, chose on a

sudden a frightful end, by a desperate and precipitate fall. The cause

was ascribed to his mother, who, after many repulses, had by various

allurements and the stimulations of sensuality, urged him to practices

and embarrassments from whence, only by dying, he could devise an issue.

She was therefore accused in the Senate; and, though in a prostrate

posture she embraced the knees of the Fathers, and pleaded "the

tenderness and grief of a mother, the imbecility of a woman's spirit

under such an affecting calamity;" with other motives of pity in the

same doleful strain; she was banished Rome for ten years, till her

younger son were past the age of lubricity.

As to Tiberius; already his body, already his spirits failed him; but

his dissimulation failed him not. He exerted the same vigour of mind,

the same energy in his looks and discourse; and even sometimes studied

to be gay, by it to hide his declension however notorious. So that,

after much shifting of places, he settled at the Promontory of Misenum,

in a villa of which Lucullus was once Lord. There it was discovered that

his end was at hand, by this device. In his train was a physician, his

name Charicles, signal in his profession, one, in truth, not employed to

govern the Prince's health, but wont however to afford his counsel and

skill. Charicles, as if he were departing to attend his own affairs,

under the appearance of paying duty and kissing his hands, touched his

pulse. But the artifice beguiled not Tiberius; for he instantly ordered

the entertainment to be served up; whether incensed, and thence the more

smothering his wrath, is uncertain: but, at table he continued beyond

his wont, as if he meant that honour only for a farewell to his friend.

But for all this Charicles satisfied Macro, "that the flame of life was

expiring, and could not outlast two days." Hence the whole court was

filled with close consultations, and expresses were despatched to the

generals and armies. On the 16th of March, so deep a swoon seized him,

that he was believed to have paid the last debt of mortality:

insomuch that Caligula, in the midst of a great throng, paying their

congratulations, was already appearing abroad, to assume the first

offices of sovereignty, when sudden notice came, "that Tiberius had

recovered his sight and voice, and, to strengthen his fainting spirits,

had called for some refreshment." Hence dread seized all, and the whole

concourse about Caligula dispersed, every man resuming false sorrow, or

feigning ignorance: he himself was struck speechless, and thus fallen

from the highest hopes, waited for present death. Macro continued

undismayed, and ordering the apartment to be cleared, caused the

feeble old man to be smothered with a weight of coverings. Thus expired

Tiberius in the seventy-eighth year of his age.

He was the son of Nero, and on both sides a branch of the Claudian

House; though his mother had been ingrafted by adoptions into the

Livian, and next into the Julian stock. From his first infancy, his life

was chequered by various turns and perils: for, then he followed, like

an exile, his proscribed father; and when taken in quality of a step-son

into the family of Augustus, he long struggled there with many potent

rivals, during the lives of Marcellus and Agrippa; next of the young

Caesars, Caius and Lucius. His brother Drusus too eclipsed him, and

possessed more eminently the hearts of the Roman People. But above all,

his marriage with Julia, most egregiously threatened and distressed

him; whether he bore the prostitutions of his wife, or relinquished

the daughter of Augustus. Upon his return thereafter from Rhodes, he

occupied for twelve years the Prince's family, now bereft of heirs, and

nigh four-and-twenty ruled the Roman State. His manners also varied with

the several junctures of his fortune: he was well esteemed while yet

a private man; and, in discharging public dignities under Augustus, of

signal reputation: covert and subdolous in feigning virtue so long

as Germanicus and Drusus survived: a mixed character of good and evil

during the days of his mother: detestably cruel; but secret in his

lewdness, while he loved or feared Sejanus: at last he abandoned

himself, at once, to the rage of tyranny and the sway of his lusts: for,

he had then conquered all the checks of shame and fear, and thenceforth

followed only the bent of his own abominable spirit.

A TREATISE OF THE SITUATION, CUSTOMS, AND PEOPLE OF GERMANY.

The whole of Germany is thus bounded; separated from Gaul, from Rhoetia

and Pannonia, by the rivers Rhine and Danube; from Sarmatia and Dacia by

mutual fear, or by high mountains: the rest is encompassed by the ocean,

which forms huge bays, and comprehends a tract of islands immense in

extent: for we have lately known certain nations and kingdoms there,

such as the war discovered. The Rhine rising in the Rhoetian Alps from a

summit altogether rocky and perpendicular, after a small winding towards

the west, is lost in the Northern Ocean. The Danube issues out of the

mountain Abnoba, one very high but very easy of ascent, and traversing

several nations, falls by six streams into the Euxine Sea; for its

seventh channel is absorbed in the Fenns.

The Germans, I am apt to believe, derive their original from no other

people; and are nowise mixed with different nations arriving amongst

them: since anciently those who went in search of new dwellings,

travelled not by land, but were carried in fleets; and into that mighty

ocean so boundless, and, as I may call it, so repugnant and forbidding,

ships from our world rarely enter. Moreover, besides the dangers from

a sea tempestuous, horrid and unknown, who would relinquish Asia, or

Africa, or Italy, to repair to Germany, a region hideous and rude,

under a rigorous climate, dismal to behold or to manure; [Footnote:

To cultivate.] unless the same were his native country? In their old

ballads (which amongst them are the only sort of registers and history)

they celebrate _Tuisto_, a God sprung from the earth, and _Mannus_ his

son, as the fathers and founders of the nation. To _Mannus_ they assign

three sons, after whose names so many people are called; the Ingaevones,

dwelling next the ocean; the Herminones, in the middle country; and all

the rest, Istaevones. Some, borrowing a warrant from the darkness of

antiquity, maintain that the God had more sons, that thence came

more denominations of people, the Marsians, Cambrians, Suevians, and

Vandalians, and that these are the names truly genuine and original. For

the rest, they affirm Germany to be a recent word, lately bestowed: for

that those who first passed the Rhine and expulsed the Gauls, and are

now named Tungrians, were then called Germans: and thus by degrees

the name of a tribe prevailed, not that of the nation; so that by an

appellation at first occasioned by terror and conquest, they afterwards

chose to be distinguished, and assuming a name lately invented were

universally called _Germans_.

They have a tradition that Hercules also had been in their country, and

him above all other heroes they extol in their songs when they advance

to battle. Amongst them too are found that kind of verses by the recital

of which (by them called _Barding_) they inspire bravery; nay, by such

chanting itself they divine the success of the approaching fight. For,

according to the different din of the battle, they urge furiously, or

shrink timorously. Nor does what they utter, so much seem to be singing

as the voice and exertion of valour. They chiefly study a tone fierce

and harsh, with a broken and unequal murmur, and therefore apply their

shields to their mouths, whence the voice may by rebounding swell with

greater fulness and force. Besides there are some of opinion, that

Ulysses, whilst he wandered about in his long and fabulous voyages, was

carried into this ocean and entered Germany, and that by him Asciburgium

was founded and named, a city at this day standing and inhabited upon

the bank of the Rhine: nay, that in the same place was formerly found an

altar dedicated to Ulysses, with the name of his father Laertes added

to his own, and that upon the confines of Germany and Rhoetia are still

extant certain monuments and tombs inscribed with Greek characters.

Traditions these which I mean not either to confirm with arguments of

my own or to refute. Let every one believe or deny the same according to

his own bent.

For myself, I concur in opinion with such as suppose the people of

Germany never to have mingled by inter-marriages with other nations, but

to have remained a people pure, and independent, and resembling none but

themselves. Hence amongst such a mighty multitude of men, the same make

and form is found in all, eyes stern and blue, yellow hair, huge bodies,

but vigorous only in the first onset. Of pains and labour they are not

equally patient, nor can they at all endure thrift and heat. To bear

hunger and cold they are hardened by their climate and soil.

Their lands, however somewhat different in aspect, yet taken all

together consist of gloomy forests or nasty marshes; lower and moister

towards the confines of Gaul, more mountainous and windy towards Noricum

and Pannonia; very apt to bear grain, but altogether unkindly to fruit

trees; abounding in flocks and herds, but generally small of growth.

Nor even in their oxen is found the usual stateliness, no more than the

natural ornaments and grandeur of head. In the number of their herds

they rejoice; and these are their only, these their most desirable

riches. Silver and gold the Gods have denied them, whether in mercy or

in wrath, I am unable to determine. Yet I would not venture to aver

that in Germany no vein of gold or silver is produced; for who has

ever searched? For the use and possession, it is certain they care not.

Amongst them indeed are to be seen vessels of silver, such as have

been presented to their Princes and Ambassadors, but holden in no other

esteem than vessels made of earth. The Germans however adjoining to our

frontiers value gold and silver for the purposes of commerce, and are

wont to distinguish and prefer certain of our coins. They who live more

remote are more primitive and simple in their dealings, and exchange

one commodity for another. The money which they like is the old and long

known, that indented, [Footnote: With milled edges.] or that impressed

with a chariot and two horses. Silver too is what they seek more than

gold, from no fondness or preference, but because small pieces are more

ready in purchasing things cheap and common.

Neither in truth do they abound in iron, as from the fashion of their

weapons may be gathered. Swords they rarely use, or the larger spear.

They carry javelins or, in their own language, _framms_, pointed with a

piece of iron short and narrow, but so sharp and manageable, that with

the same weapon they can fight at a distance or hand to hand, just as

need requires. Nay, the horsemen also are content with a shield and a

javelin. The foot throw likewise weapons missive, each particular

is armed with many, and hurls them a mighty space, all naked or only

wearing a light cassock. In their equipment they show no ostentation;

only that their shields are diversified and adorned with curious

colours. With coats of mail very few are furnished, and hardly upon any

is seen a headpiece or helmet. Their horses are nowise signal either in

fashion or in fleetness; nor taught to wheel and bound, according to the

practice of the Romans: they only move them forward in a line, or turn

them right about, with such compactness and equality that no one is ever

behind the rest. To one who considers the whole it is manifest, that

in their foot their principal strength lies, and therefore they fight

intermixed with the horse: for such is their swiftness as to match

and suit with the motions and engagements of the cavalry. So that the

infantry are elected from amongst the most robust of their youth, and

placed in front of the army. The number to be sent is also ascertained,

out of every village _an hundred_, and by this very name they continue

to be called at home, _those of the hundred band_: thus what was at

first no more than a number, becomes thenceforth a title and distinction

of honour. In arraying their army, they divide the whole into distinct

battalions formed sharp in front. To recoil in battle, provided you

return again to the attack, passes with them rather for policy than

fear. Even when the combat is no more than doubtful, they bear away the

bodies of their slain. The most glaring disgrace that can befall them,

is to have quitted their shield; nor to one branded with such ignominy

is it lawful to join in their sacrifices, or to enter into their

assemblies; and many who had escaped in the day of battle, have hanged

themselves to put an end to this their infamy.

In the choice of kings they are determined by the splendour of their

race, in that of generals by their bravery. Neither is the power of

their kings unbounded or arbitrary: and their generals procure obedience

not so much by the force of their authority as by that of their example,

when they appear enterprising and brave, when they signalise themselves

by courage and prowess; and if they surpass all in admiration and

pre-eminence, if they surpass all at the head of an army. But to none

else but the Priests is it allowed to exercise correction, or to inflict

bonds or stripes. Nor when the Priests do this, is the same considered

as a punishment, or arising from the orders of the general, but from the

immediate command of the Deity, Him whom they believe to accompany them

in war. They therefore carry with them when going to fight, certain

images and figures taken out of their holy groves. What proves the

principal incentive to their valour is, that it is not at random nor by

the fortuitous conflux of men that their troops and pointed battalions

are formed, but by the conjunction of whole families, and tribes of

relations. Moreover, close to the field of battle are lodged all the

nearest and most interesting pledges of nature. Hence they hear the

doleful howlings of their wives, hence the cries of their tender

infants. These are to each particular the witnesses whom he most

reverences and dreads; these yield him the praise which affect him most.

Their wounds and maims they carry to their mothers, or to their wives,

neither are their mothers or wives shocked in telling, or in sucking

their bleeding sores. [Footnote: Nec illae numerare aut exigere plagas

pavent.] Nay, to their husbands and sons whilst engaged in battle, they

administer meat and encouragement.

In history we find, that some armies already yielding and ready to fly,

have been by the women restored, through their inflexible importunity

and entreaties, presenting their breasts, and showing their impending

captivity; an evil to the Germans then by far most dreadful when it

befalls their women. So that the spirit of such cities as amongst

their hostages are enjoined to send their damsels of quality, is always

engaged more effectually than that of others. They even believe them

endowed with something celestial and the spirit of prophecy. Neither

do they disdain to consult them, nor neglect the responses which they

return. In the reign of the deified Vespasian, we have seen _Veleda_ for

a long time, and by many nations, esteemed and adored as a divinity. In

times past they likewise worshipped _Aurinia_ and several more, from

no complaisance or effort of flattery, nor as Deities of their own

creating.

Of all the Gods, Mercury is he whom they worship most. To him on certain

stated days it is lawful to offer even human victims. Hercules and Mars

they appease with beasts usually allowed for sacrifice. Some of the

Suevians make likewise immolations to _Isis_, Concerning the cause and

original of this foreign sacrifice I have found small light; unless

the figure of her image formed like a galley, show that such devotion

arrived from abroad. For the rest, from the grandeur and majesty of

beings celestial, they judge it altogether unsuitable to hold the Gods

enclosed within walls, or to represent them under any human likeness.

They consecrate whole woods and groves, and by the names of the Gods

they call these recesses; divinities these, which only in contemplation

and mental reverence they behold.

To the use of lots and auguries, they are addicted beyond all other

nations. Their method of divining by lots is exceeding simple. From a

tree which bears fruit they cut a twig, and divide it into two small

pieces. These they distinguish by so many several marks, and throw them

at random and without order upon a white garment. Then the Priest of the

community, if for the public the lots are consulted, or the father of

a family if about a private concern, after he has solemnly invoked the

Gods, with eyes lifted up to heaven, takes up every piece thrice, and

having done thus forms a judgment according to the marks before made. If

the chances have proved forbidding, they are no more consulted upon the

same affair during the same day: even when they are inviting, yet, for

confirmation, the faith of auguries too is tried. Yea, here also is the

known practice of divining events from the voices and flight of birds.

But to this nation it is peculiar, to learn presages and admonitions

divine from horses also. These are nourished by the State in the same

sacred woods and groves, all milk-white and employed in no earthly

labour. These yoked in the holy chariot, are accompanied by the Priest

and the King, or the Chief of the community, who both carefully observe

his actions and neighing. Nor in any sort of augury is more faith and

assurance reposed, not by the populace only, but even by the nobles,

even by the Priests. These account themselves the ministers of the Gods,

and the horses privy to his will. They have likewise another method of

divination, whence to learn the issue of great and mighty wars. From the

nation with whom they are at war they contrive, it avails not how, to

gain a captive: him they engage in combat with one selected from amongst

themselves, each armed after the manner of his country, and according

as the victory falls to this or to the other, gather a presage of the

whole.

Affairs of smaller moment the chiefs determine: about matters of

higher consequence the whole nation deliberates; yet in such sort,

that whatever depends upon the pleasure and decision of the people, is

examined and discussed by the chiefs. Where no accident or emergency

intervenes, they assemble upon stated days, either when the moon

changes, or is full: since they believe such seasons to be the most

fortunate for beginning all transactions. Neither in reckoning of time

do they count, like us, the number of days but that of nights. In this

style their ordinances are framed, in this style their diets appointed;

and with them the night seems to lead and govern the day. From their

extensive liberty this evil and default flows, that they meet not at

once, nor as men commanded and afraid to disobey; so that often the

second day, nay often the third, is consumed through the slowness of the

members in assembling. They sit down as they list, promiscuously, like a

crowd, and all armed. It is by the Priests that silence is enjoined,

and with the power of correction the Priests are then invested. Then the

King or Chief is heard, as are others, each according to his precedence

in age, or in nobility, or in warlike renown, or in eloquence; and the

influence of every speaker proceeds rather from his ability to persuade

than from any authority to command. If the proposition displease, they

reject it by an inarticulate murmur: if it be pleasing, they brandish

their javelins. The most honourable manner of signifying their assent,

is to express their applause by the sound of their arms.

In the assembly it is allowed to present accusations, and to prosecute

capital offences. Punishments vary according to the quality of the

crime. Traitors and deserters they hang upon trees. Cowards, and

sluggards, and unnatural prostitutes they smother in mud and bogs under

an heap of hurdles. Such diversity in their executions has this view,

that in punishing of glaring iniquities, it behoves likewise to

display them to sight: but effeminacy and pollution must be buried and

concealed. In lighter transgressions too the penalty is measured by

the fault, and the delinquents upon conviction are condemned to pay a

certain number of horses or cattle. Part of this mulct accrues to the

King or to the community, part to him whose wrongs are vindicated, or to

his next kindred. In the same assemblies are also chosen their chiefs

or rulers, such as administer justice in their villages and boroughs.

To each of these are assigned an hundred persons chosen from amongst

the populace, to accompany and assist him, men who help him at once with

their authority and their counsel.

Without being armed they transact nothing, whether of public or private

concernment. But it is repugnant to their custom for any man to use

arms, before the community has attested his capacity to wield them.

Upon such testimonial, either one of the rulers, or his father, or

some kinsman dignify the young man in the midst of the assembly, with

a shield and javelin. This amongst them is the _manly robe_, this the

first degree of honour conferred upon their youth. Before this they seem

no more than part of a private family, but thenceforward part of the

Commonweal. The princely dignity they confer even upon striplings, whose

race is eminently noble, or whose fathers have done great and signal

services to the State. For about the rest, who are more vigorous and

long since tried, they crowd to attend: nor is it any shame to be seen

amongst the followers of these. Nay, there are likewise degrees of

followers, higher or lower, just as he whom they follow judges fit.

Mighty too is the emulation amongst these followers, of each to be first

in favour with his Prince; mighty also the emulation of the Princes,

to excel in the number and valour of followers. This is their principal

state, this their chief force, to be at all times surrounded with a huge

band of chosen young men, for ornament and glory in peace, for security

and defence in war. Nor is it amongst his own people only, but even from

the neighbouring communities, that any of their Princes reaps so

much renown and a name so great, when he surpasses in the number and

magnanimity of his followers. For such are courted by Embassies, and

distinguished with presents, and by the terror of their fame alone often

dissipate wars.

In the day of battle, it is scandalous to the Prince to be surpassed in

feats of bravery, scandalous to his followers to fail in matching the

bravery of the Prince. But it is infamy during life, and indelible

reproach, to return alive from a battle where their Prince was slain.

To preserve their Prince, to defend him, and to ascribe to his glory all

their own valorous deeds, is the sum and most sacred part of their oath.

The Princes fight for victory; for the Prince his followers fight. Many

of the young nobility, when their own community comes to languish in

its vigour by long peace and inactivity, betake themselves through

impatience to other States which then prove to be in war. For,

besides that this people cannot brook repose, besides that by perilous

adventures they more quickly blazon their fame, they cannot otherwise

than by violence and war support their huge train of retainers. For from

the liberality of their Prince, they demand and enjoy that _war-horse_

of theirs, with that _victorious javelin_ dyed in the blood of their

enemies. In the place of pay, they are supplied with a daily table and

repasts; though grossly prepared, yet very profuse. For maintaining such

liberality and munificence, a fund is furnished by continual wars and

plunder. Nor could you so easily persuade them to cultivate the ground,

or to await the return of the seasons and produce of the year, as

to provoke the foe and to risk wounds and death: since stupid and

spiritless they account it, to acquire by their sweat what they can gain

by their blood.

Upon any recess from war, they do not much attend the chase. Much more

of their time they pass in indolence, resigned to sleep and repasts.

[Footnote: "Dediti somno, ciboque:" handed over to sloth and gluttony.]

All the most brave, all the most warlike, apply to nothing at all;

but to their wives, to the ancient men, and to every the most impotent

domestic, trust all the care of their house, and of their lands and

possessions. They themselves loiter. [Footnote: Are rude and lazy.] Such

is the amazing diversity of their nature, that in the same men is

found so much delight in sloth, with so much enmity to tranquillity and

repose. The communities are wont, of their own accord and man by man,

to bestow upon their Princes a certain number of beasts, or a certain

portion of grain; a contribution which passes indeed for a mark of

reverence and honour, but serves also to supply their necessities. They

chiefly rejoice in the gifts which come from the bordering countries,

such as are sent not only by particulars but in the name of the State;

curious horses, splendid armour, rich harness, with collars of silver

and gold. Now too they have learnt, what we have taught them, to receive

money.

That none of the several people in Germany live together in cities, is

abundantly known; nay, that amongst them none of their dwellings are

suffered to be contiguous. They inhabit apart and distinct, just as a

fountain, or a field, or a wood happened to invite them to settle. They

raise their villages in opposite rows, but not in our manner with the

houses joined one to another. Every man has a vacant space quite round

his own, whether for security against accidents from fire, or that they

want the art of building. With them in truth, is unknown even the use of

mortar and of tiles. In all their structures they employ materials

quite gross and unhewn, void of fashion and comeliness. Some parts

they besmear with an earth so pure and resplendent, that it resembles

painting and colours. They are likewise wont to scoop caves deep in the

ground, and over them to lay great heaps of dung. Thither they retire

for shelter in the winter, and thither convey their grain: for by such

close places they mollify the rigorous and excessive cold. Besides

when at any time their enemy invades them, he can only ravage the

open country, but either knows not such recesses as are invisible and

subterraneous; or must suffer them to escape him, on this very account

that he is uncertain where to find them.

For their covering a mantle is what they all wear, fastened with a clasp

or, for want of it, with a thorn. As far as this reaches not they

are naked, and lie whole days before the fire. The most wealthy are

distinguished with a vest, not one large and flowing like those of

Sarmatians and Parthians, but girt close about them and expressing the

proportion of every limb. They likewise wear the skins of savage beasts,

a dress which those bordering upon the Rhine use without any fondness or

delicacy, but about which such who live further in the country are more

curious, as void of all apparel introduced by commerce. They choose

certain wild beasts, and, having flayed them, diversify their hides with

many spots, as also with the skins of monsters from the deep, such as

are engendered in the distant ocean and in seas unknown. Neither does

the dress of the women differ from that of the men, save that the

women are orderly attired in linen embroidered with purple, and use no

sleeves, so that all their arms are bare. The upper part of their breast

is withal exposed. Yet the laws of matrimony are severely observed

there; nor in the whole of their manners is ought more praiseworthy than

this: for they are almost the only Barbarians contented with one wife,

excepting a very few amongst them; men of dignity who marry divers

wives, from no wantonness or lubricity, but courted for the lustre of

their family into many alliances.

To the husband, the wife tenders no dowry; but the husband, to the wife.

The parents and relations attend and declare their approbation of the

presents, not presents adapted to feminine pomp and delicacy, nor such

as serve to deck the new married woman; but oxen and horse accoutred,

and a shield, with a javelin and sword. By virtue of these gifts, she

is espoused. She too on her part brings her husband some arms. This they

esteem the highest tie, these the holy mysteries, and matrimonial Gods.

That the woman may not suppose herself free from the considerations of

fortitude and fighting, or exempt from the casualties of war, the very

first solemnities of her wedding serve to warn her, that she comes to

her husband as a partner in his hazards and fatigues, that she is to

suffer alike with him, to adventure alike, during peace or during war.

This the oxen joined in the same yoke plainly indicate, this the horse

ready equipped, this the present of arms. 'Tis thus she must be content

to live, thus to resign life. The arms which she then receives she must

preserve inviolate, and to her sons restore the same, as presents worthy

of them, such as their wives may again receive, and still resign to her

grandchildren.

They therefore live in a state of chastity well secured; corrupted by no

seducing shows and public diversions, by no irritations from banqueting.

Of learning and of any secret intercourse by letters, they are all

equally ignorant, men and women. Amongst a people so numerous, adultery

is exceeding rare; a crime instantly punished, and the punishment left

to be inflicted by the husband. He, having cut off her hair, expells her

from his house naked, in presence of her kindred, and pursues her with

stripes throughout the village. For, to a woman who has prostituted her

person, no pardon is ever granted. However beautiful she be, however

young, however abounding in wealth, a husband she can never find. In

truth, nobody turns vices into mirth there, nor is the practice of

corrupting and of yielding to corruption, called the custom of the Age.

Better still do those communities, in which none but virgins marry, and

where to a single marriage all their views and inclinations are at once

confined. Thus, as they have but one body and one life, they take

but one husband, that beyond him they may have no thought, no further

wishes, nor love him only as their husband but as their marriage.

[Footnote: "Sed tamquam matrimonium ament."] To restrain generation and

the increase of children, is esteemed an abominable sin, as also to kill

infants newly born. And more powerful with them are good manners, than

with other people are good laws.

In all their houses the children are reared naked and nasty; and thus

grow into those limbs, into that bulk, which with marvel we behold.

They are all nourished with the milk of their own mothers, and never

surrendered to handmaids and nurses. The lord you cannot discern from

the slave, by any superior delicacy in rearing. Amongst the same cattle

they promiscuously live, upon the same ground they without distinction

lie, till at a proper age the free-born are parted from the rest, and

their bravery recommend them to notice. Slow and late do the young men

come to the use of women, and thus very long preserve the vigour of

youth. Neither are the virgins hastened to wed. They must both have

the same sprightly youth, the like stature, and marry when equal and

able-bodied. Thus the robustness of the parents is inherited by the

children. Children are holden in the same estimation with their mother's

brother, as with their father. Some hold this tie of blood to be most

inviolable and binding, and in receiving of hostages, such pledges are

most considered and claimed, as they who at once possess affections

the most unalienable, and the most diffuse interest in their family.

To every man, however, his own children are heirs and successors: wills

they make none: for want of children his next akin inherits; his own

brothers, those of his father, or those of his mother. To ancient men,

the more they abound in descendants, in relations and affinities, so

much the more favour and reverence accrues. From being childless, no

advantage nor estimation is derived.

All the enmities of your house, whether of your father or of your

kindred, you must necessarily adopt; as well as all their friendships.

Neither are such enmities unappeasable and permanent: since even for

so great a crime as homicide, compensation is made by a fixed number of

sheep and cattle, and by it the whole family is pacified to content.

A temper this, wholesome to the State; because to a free nation,

animosities and faction are always more menacing and perilous. In social

feasts, and deeds of hospitality, no nation upon earth was ever more

liberal and abounding. To refuse admitting under your roof any man

whatsoever, is held wicked and inhuman. Every man receives every

comer, and treats him with repasts as large as his ability can possibly

furnish. When the whole stock is consumed, he who had treated

so hospitably guides and accompanies his guest to a new scene of

hospitality; and both proceed to the next house, though neither of them

invited. Nor avails it, that they were not: they are there received,

with the same frankness and humanity. Between a stranger and an

acquaintance, in dispensing the rules and benefits of hospitality, no

difference is made. Upon your departure, if you ask anything, it is

the custom to grant it; and with the same facility, they ask of you. In

gifts they delight, but neither claim merit from what they give, nor own

any obligation for what they receive. Their manner of entertaining their

guests is familiar and kind.

The moment they rise from sleep, which they generally prolong till late

in the day, they bathe, most frequently in warm water; as in a country

where the winter is very long and severe. From bathing, they sit down to

meat; every man apart, upon a particular seat, and at a separate table.

They then proceed to their affairs, all in arms; as in arms, they

no less frequently go to banquet. To continue drinking night and day

without intermission, is a reproach to no man. Frequent then are their

broils, as usual amongst men intoxicated with liquor; and such broils

rarely terminate in angry words, but for the most part in maimings and

slaughter. Moreover in these their feasts, they generally deliberate

about reconciling parties at enmity, about forming affinities, choosing

of Princes, and finally about peace and war. For they judge, that at no

season is the soul more open to thoughts that are artless and upright,

or more fired with such as are great and bold. This people, of

themselves nowise subtile or politic, from the freedom of the place

and occasion acquire still more frankness to disclose the most secret

motions and purposes of their hearts. When therefore the minds of all

have been once laid open and declared, on the day following the several

sentiments are revised and canvassed; and to both conjectures of time,

due regard is had. They consult, when they know not how to dissemble;

they determine, when they cannot mistake.

For their drink, they draw a liquor from barley or other grain; and

ferment the same, so as to make it resemble wine. Nay, they who dwell

upon the bank of the Rhine deal in wine. Their food is very simple; wild

fruit, fresh venison, or coagulated milk. They banish hunger without

formality, without curious dressing and curious fare. In extinguishing

thirst, they use not equal temperance. If you will but humour their

excess in drinking, and supply them with as much as they covet, it will

be no less easy to vanquish them by vices than by arms.

Of public diversions they have but one sort, and in all their meetings

the same is still exhibited. Young men, such, as make it their pastime,

fling themselves naked and dance amongst sharp swords and the deadly

points of javelins. From habit they acquire their skill, and from their

skill a graceful manner; yet from hence draw no gain or hire: though

this adventurous gaiety has its reward, namely, that of pleasing the

spectators. What is marvellous, playing at dice is one of their most

serious employments; and even sober, they are gamesters: nay, so

desperately do they venture upon the chance of winning or losing, that

when their whole substance is played away, they stake their liberty and

their persons upon one and the last throw. The loser goes calmly into

voluntary bondage. However younger he be, however stronger, he tamely

suffers himself to be bound and sold by the winner. Such is their

perseverance in an evil course: they themselves call it honour.

Slaves of this class, they exchange away in commerce, to free themselves

too from the shame of such a victory. Of their other slaves they make

not such use as we do of ours, by distributing amongst them the several

offices and employments of the family. Each of them has a dwelling of

his own, each a household to govern. His lord uses him like a tenant,

and obliges him to pay a quantity of grain, or of cattle, or of cloth.

Thus far only the subserviency of the slave extends. All the other

duties in a family, not the slaves, but the wives and children

discharge. To inflict stripes upon a slave, or to put him in chains, or

to doom him to severe labour, are things rarely seen. To kill them they

sometimes are wont, not through correction or government, but in heat

and rage, as they would an enemy, save that no vengeance or penalty

follows. The freedmen very little surpass the slaves, rarely are of

moment in the house; in the community never, excepting only such nations

where arbitrary dominion prevails. For there they bear higher sway

than the free-born, nay, higher than the nobles. In other countries the

inferior condition of freedmen is a proof of public liberty.

To the practice of usury and of increasing money by interest, they are

strangers; and hence is found a better guard against it, than if it

were forbidden. They shift from land to land; and, still appropriating

a portion suitable to the number of hands for manuring, anon parcel out

the whole amongst particulars according to the condition and quality

of each. As the plains are very spacious, the allotments are easily

assigned. Every year they change, and cultivate a fresh soil; yet

still there is ground to spare. For they strive not to bestow labour

proportionable to the fertility and compass of their lands, by planting

orchards, by enclosing meadows, by watering gardens. From the earth,

corn only is exacted. Hence they quarter not the year into so many

seasons. Winter, Spring, and Summer, they understand; and for each

have proper appellations. Of the name and blessings of Autumn, they are

equally ignorant.

In performing their funerals, they show no state or vainglory. This only

is carefully observed, that with the corpses of their signal men certain

woods be burned. Upon the funeral pile they accumulate neither apparel

nor perfumes. Into the fire, are always thrown the arms of the dead, and

sometimes his horse. With sods of earth only the sepulchre is raised.

The pomp of tedious and elaborate monuments they contemn, as things

grievous to the deceased. Tears and wailings they soon dismiss: their

affliction and woe they long retain. In women, it is reckoned becoming

to bewail their loss; in men, to remember it. This is what in general

we have learned, in the original and customs of the whole people of

Germany. I shall now deduce the institutions and usages of the several

people, as far as they vary one from another; as also an account of what

nations from thence removed, to settle themselves in Gaul.

That the Gauls were in times past more puissant and formidable, is

related by the Prince of authors, the deified Julius; [Footnote:

Julius Caesar.] and hence it is probable that they too have passed into

Germany. For what a small obstacle must be a river, to restrain any

nation, as each grew more potent, from seizing or changing habitations;

when as yet all habitations were common, and not parted or appropriated

by the founding and terror of Monarchies? The region therefore between

the Hercynian Forest and the rivers Moenus [Footnote: Main.] and Rhine,

was occupied by the Helvetians; as was that beyond it by the Boians,

both nations of Gaul. There still remains a place called _Boiemum_,

which denotes the primitive name and antiquity of the country, although

the inhabitants have been changed. But whether the Araviscans are

derived from the Osians, a nation of Germans passing into Pannonia, or

the Osians from the Araviscans removing from thence into Germany, is

a matter undecided; since they both still use the language, the same

customs and the same laws. For, as of old they lived alike poor and

alike free, equal proved the evils and advantages on each side the

river, and common to both people. The Treverians and Nervians aspire

passionately to the reputation of being descended from the Germans;

since by the glory of this original, they would escape all imputation

of resembling the Gauls in person and effeminacy. Such as dwell upon the

bank of the Rhine, the Vangiones, the Tribocians, and the Nemetes, are

without doubt all Germans. The Ubians are ashamed of their original;

though they have a particular honour to boast, that of having merited

an establishment as a Roman Colony, and still delight to be called

_Agrippinensians_, after the name of their founder: they indeed formerly

came from beyond the Rhine, and, for the many proofs of their fidelity,

were settled upon the very bank of the river; not to be there confined

or guarded themselves, but to guard and defend that boundary against the

rest of the Germans.

Of all these nations, the Batavians are the most signal in bravery. They

inhabit not much territory upon the Rhine, but possess an island in it.

They were formerly part of the Cattans, and by means of feuds at home

removed to these dwellings; whence they might become a portion of the

Roman Empire. With them this honour still remains, as also the memorials

of their ancient association with us: for they are not under the

contempt of paying tribute, nor subject to be squeezed by the farmers of

the revenue. Free from all impositions and payments, and only set apart

for the purposes of fighting, they are reserved wholly for the wars,

in the same manner as a magazine of weapons and armour. Under the same

degree of homage are the nation of the Mattiacians. For such is the

might and greatness of the Roman People, as to have carried the awe and

esteem of their Empire beyond the Rhine and the ancient boundaries. Thus

the Mattiacians, living upon the opposite banks, enjoy a settlement and

limits of their own; yet in spirit and inclination are attached to

us: in other things resembling the Batavians, save that as they still

breathe their original air, still possess their primitive soil, they are

thence inspired with superior vigour and keenness. Amongst the people

of Germany I would not reckon those who occupy the lands which are

under decimation, though they be such as dwell beyond the Rhine and the

Danube. By several worthless and vagabond Gauls, and such as poverty

rendered daring, that region was seized as one belonging to no certain

possessor: afterwards it became a skirt of the Empire and part of a

province, upon the enlargement of our bounds and the extending of our

garrisons and frontier.

Beyond these are the Cattans, whose territories begin at the Hercynian

Forest, and consist not of such wide and marshy plains, as those of

the other communities contained within the vast compass of Germany; but

produce ranges of hills, such as run lofty and contiguous for a long

tract, then by degrees sink and decay. Moreover the Hercynian Forest

attends for a while its native Cattans, then suddenly forsakes them.

This people are distinguished with bodies more hardy and robust, compact

limbs, stern countenances, and greater vigour of spirit. For Germans,

they are men of much sense and address. [Footnote: "Leur intelligence

et leur finesse étonnent, dans des Germains."] They dignify chosen men,

listen to such as are set over them, know how to preserve their post,

to discern occasions, to rebate their own ardour and impatience; how

to employ the day, how to entrench themselves by night. They account

fortune amongst things slippery and uncertain, but bravery amongst such

as are never-failing and secure; and, what is exceeding rare nor ever to

be learnt but by a wholesome course of discipline, in the conduct of

the general they repose more assurance than in the strength of the

army. Their whole forces consist of foot, who besides their arms carry

likewise instruments of iron and their provisions. You may see other

Germans proceed equipped to battle, but the Cattans so as to conduct a

war. [Footnote: "Alios ad proelium ire videas, Chattos ad bellum."]

They rarely venture upon excursions or casual encounters. It is in truth

peculiar to cavalry, suddenly to conquer, or suddenly to fly. Such haste

and velocity rather resembles fear. Patience and deliberation are more

akin to intrepidity.

Moreover a custom, practised indeed in other nations of Germany, yet

very rarely and confined only to particulars more daring than the rest,

prevails amongst the Cattans by universal consent. As soon as they

arrive to maturity of years, they let their hair and beards continue to

grow, nor till they have slain an enemy do they ever lay aside this form

of countenance by vow sacred to valour. Over the blood and spoil of a

foe they make bare their face. They allege, that they have now acquitted

themselves of the debt and duty contracted by their birth, and rendered

themselves worthy of their country, worthy of their parents. Upon the

spiritless, cowardly and unwarlike, such deformity of visage still

remains. [Footnote: "Manet squalor."] All the most brave likewise wear

an iron ring (a mark of great dishonour this in that nation) and retain

it as a chain; till by killing an enemy they become released. Many of

the Cattans delight always to bear this terrible aspect; and, when grown

white through age, become awful and conspicuous by such marks, both to

the enemy and their own countrymen. By them in all engagements the first

assault is made: of them the front of the battle is always composed,

as men who in their looks are singular and tremendous. For even

during peace they abate nothing in the grimness and horror of their

countenance. They have no house to inhabit, no land to cultivate, nor

any domestic charge or care. With whomsoever they come to sojourn,

by him they are maintained; always very prodigal of the substance of

others, always despising what is their own, till the feebleness of old

age overtakes them, and renders them unequal to the efforts of such

rigid bravery.

Next to the Cattans, dwell the Usipians and Tencterians; upon the Rhine

now running in a channel uniform and certain, such as suffices for a

boundary. The Tencterians, besides their wonted glory in war, surpass in

the service and discipline of their cavalry. Nor do the Cattans derive

higher applause from their foot, than the Tencterians from their horse.

Such was the order established by their forefathers, and what their

posterity still pursue. From riding and exercising of horses, their

children borrow their pastimes; in this exercise the young men find

matter for emulating one another, and in this the old men take pleasure

to persevere. Horses are by the father bequeathed as part of his

household and family, horses are conveyed amongst the rights of

succession, and as such the son receives them; but not the eldest son,

like other effects, by priority of birth, but he who happens to be

signal in boldness and superior in war.

Contiguous to the Tencterians formerly dwelt the Bructerians, in whose

room it is said the Chamavians and Angrivarians are now settled; they

who expulsed and almost extirpated the Bructerians, with the concurrence

of the neighbouring nations: whether in detestation of their arrogance,

or allured by the love of spoil, or through the special favour of the

Gods towards us Romans. They in truth even vouchsafed to gratify us with

the sight of the battle. In it there fell above sixty thousand souls,

without a blow struck by the Romans; but, what is a circumstance

still more glorious, fell to furnish them with a spectacle of joy and

recreation. May the Gods continue and perpetuate amongst these nations,

if not any love for us, yet by all means this their animosity and hate

towards each other: since whilst the destiny of the Empire thus urges

it, fortune cannot more signally befriend us, than in sowing strife

amongst our foes.

The Angrivarians and Chamavians are enclosed behind, by the Dulgibinians

and Chasuarians; and by other nations not so much noted: before, the

Frisians face them. The country of Frisia is divided into two; called

the greater and lesser, according to the measure of their strength. Both

nations stretch along the Rhine, quite to the ocean; and surround

vast lakes such as once have borne Roman fleets. We have moreover even

ventured out from thence into the ocean, and upon its coasts common fame

has reported the pillars of Hercules to be still standing: whether it be

that Hercules ever visited these parts, or that to his renowned name we

are wont to ascribe whatever is grand and glorious everywhere. Neither

did Drusus who made the attempt, want boldness to pursue it: but the

roughness of the ocean withstood him, nor would suffer discoveries to

be made about itself, no more than about Hercules. Thenceforward the

enterprise was dropped: nay, more pious and reverential it seemed, to

believe the marvellous feats of the Gods than to know and to prove them.

[Footnote: "Coelum ipsum petimus stultitia."]

Hitherto, I have been describing Germany towards the west. To the

northward, it winds away with an immense compass. And first of all

occurs the nation of the Chaucians: who though they begin immediately

at the confines of the Frisians, and occupy part of the shore, extend

so far as to border upon all the several people whom I have already

recounted; till at last, by a circuit, they reach quite to the

boundaries of the Cattans. A region so vast, the Chaucians do not only

possess but fill; a people of all the Germans the most noble, such as

would rather maintain their grandeur by justice than violence. They live

in repose, retired from broils abroad, void of avidity to possess more,

free from a spirit of domineering over others. They provoke no wars,

they ravage no countries, they pursue no plunder. Of their bravery and

power, the chief evidence arises from hence, that, without wronging or

oppressing others, they are come to be superior to all. Yet they are all

ready to arm, and if an exigency require, armies are presently raised,

powerful and abounding as they are in men and horses; and even when they

are quiet and their weapons laid aside, their credit and name continue

equally high.

Along the side of the Chaucians and Cattans dwell the Cheruscans; a

people who finding no enemy to rouse them, were enfeebled by a peace

overlasting and uniform, but such as they failed not to nourish. A

conduct which proved more pleasing than secure; since treacherous is

that repose which you enjoy amongst neighbours that are very powerful

and very fond of rule and mastership. When recourse is once had to the

sword, modesty and fair dealing will be vainly pleaded by the weaker;

names these which are always assumed by the stronger. Thus the

Cheruscans, they who formerly bore the character of _good and upright_,

are now called _cowards and fools_; and the fortune of the Cattans

who subdued them, grew immediately to be wisdom. In the ruin of the

Cheruscans, the Fosians, also their neighbours, were involved; and in

their calamities bore an equal share, though in their prosperity they

had been weaker and less considered.

In the same winding tract of Germany live the Cimbrians, close to the

ocean; a community now very small, but great in fame. Nay, of their

ancient renown, many and extensive are the traces and monuments still

remaining; even their entrenchments upon either shore, so vast in

compass that from thence you may even now measure the greatness and

numerous bands of that people, and assent to the account of an army so

mighty. It was on the six hundred and fortieth year of Rome, when of the

arms of the Cimbrians the first mention was made, during the Consulship

of Caecilius Metellus and Papirius Carbo. If from that time we count to

the second Consulship of the Emperor Trajan, the interval comprehends

near two hundred and ten years; so long have we been conquering Germany.

In a course of time, so vast between these two periods, many have been

the blows and disasters suffered on each side. In truth neither from the

Samnites, nor from the Carthaginians, nor from both Spains, nor from all

the nations of Gaul, have we received more frequent checks and alarms;

nor even from the Parthians: for, more vigorous and invincible is the

liberty of the Germans than the monarchy of the Arsacides. Indeed, what

has the power of the East to allege to our dishonour; but the fall of

Crassus, that power which was itself overthrown and abased by Ventidius,

with the loss of the great King Pacorus bereft of his life? But by the

Germans the Roman People have been bereft of five armies, all commanded

by Consuls; by the Germans, the commanders of these armies, Carbo, and

Cassius, and Scaurus Aurelius, and Servilius Caepio, as also Marcus

Manlius, were all routed or taken: by the Germans even the Emperor

Augustus was bereft of Varus and three legions. Nor without difficulty

and loss of men were they defeated by Caius Marius in Italy, or by the

deified Julius in Gaul, or by Drusus or Tiberius or Germanicus in their

native territories. Soon after, the mighty menaces of Caligula against

them ended in mockery and derision. Thenceforward they continued quiet,

till taking advantage of our domestic division and civil wars, they

stormed and seized the winter entrenchments of the legions, and aimed at

the dominion of Gaul; from whence they were once more expulsed, and in

the times preceding the present, we gained a triumph over them rather

than a victory.

I must now proceed to speak of the Suevians, who are not, like the

Cattans and Tencterians, comprehended in a single people; but divided

into several nations all bearing distinct names, though, in general

they are entitled Suevians, and occupy the larger share of Germany. This

people are remarkable for a peculiar custom, that of twisting their hair

and binding it up in a knot. It is thus the Suevians are distinguished

from the other Germans, thus the free Suevians from their slaves. In

other nations, whether from alliance of blood with the Suevians, or, as

is usual, from imitation, this practice is also found, yet rarely, and

never exceeds the years of youth. The Suevians, even when their hair is

white through age, continue to raise it backwards in a manner stern and

staring; and often tie it upon the top of their head only. That of their

Princes, is more accurately disposed, and so far they study to appear

agreeable and comely; but without any culpable intention. For by

it, they mean not to make love or to incite it: they thus dress when

proceeding to war, and deck their heads so as to add to their height and

terror in the eyes of the enemy.

Of all the Suevians, the Semnones recount themselves to be the most

ancient and most noble. The belief of their antiquity is confirmed

by religious mysteries. At a stated time of the year, all the several

people descended from the same stock, assemble by their deputies in

a wood; consecrated by the idolatries of their forefathers, and by

superstitious awe in times of old. There by publicly sacrificing a man,

they begin the horrible solemnity of their barbarous worship. To this

grove another sort of reverence is also paid. No one enters it otherwise

than bound with ligatures, thence professing his subordination and

meanness, and the power of the Deity there. If he fall down, he is not

permitted to rise or be raised, but grovels along upon the ground. And

of all their superstition, this is the drift and tendency; that from

this place the nation drew their original, that here God, the supreme

Governor of the world, resides, and that all things else whatsoever

are subject to him and bound to obey him. The potent condition of the

Semnones has increased their influence and authority, as they inhabit an

hundred towns; and from the largeness of their community it comes, that

they hold themselves for the head of the Suevians.

What on the contrary ennobles the Langobards is the smallness of their

number, for that they, who are surrounded with very many and very

powerful nations, derive their security from no obsequiousness or

plying; but from the dint of battle and adventurous deeds. There follow

in order the Reudignians, and Aviones, and Angles, and Varinians, and

Eudoses, and Suardones and Nuithones; all defended by rivers or forests.

Nor in one of these nations does aught remarkable occur, only that they

universally join in the worship of _Herthum_; that is to say, the Mother

Earth. Her they believe to interpose in the affairs of men, and to visit

countries. In an island of the ocean stands the wood _Castum_; in it

is a chariot dedicated to the Goddess, covered over with a curtain, and

permitted to be touched by none but the Priest. Whenever the Goddess

enters this her holy vehicle, he perceives her; and with profound

veneration attends the motion of the chariot, which is always drawn by

yoked cows. Then it is that days of rejoicing always ensue, and in all

places whatsoever which she descends to honour with a visit and her

company, feasts and recreation abound. They go not to war; they touch

no arms; fast laid up is every hostile weapon; peace and repose are

then only known, then only beloved, till to the temple the same priest

reconducts the Goddess when well tired with the conversation of mortal

beings. Anon the chariot is washed and purified in a secret lake, as

also the curtains; nay, the Deity herself too, if you choose to believe

it. In this office it is slaves who minister, and they are forthwith

doomed to be swallowed up in the same lake. Hence all men are possessed

with mysterious terror; as well as with a holy ignorance what that must

be, which none see but such as are immediately to perish. Moreover this

quarter of the Suevians stretches to the middle of Germany.