THE ANNALS

LXI. Touched by this affecting circumstance, Germanicus resolved to pay the last human office to the relics of that unfortunate commander, and his slaughtered soldiers. The same tender sentiment diffused itself through the army: some felt the touch of nature for their relations, others for their friends; and all lamented the disasters of war, and the wretched lot of human kind. Cæcina was sent forward to explore the woods: where the waters were out. to throw up bridges; and, by heaping loads of earth on the swampy soil, to secure a solid footing. The army marched through a gloomy solitude. The place presented an awful spectacle, and the memory of a tragical event increased the horror of the scene. The first camp of Varus appeared in view. The extent of the ground, and the three different inclosures for the eagles, still distinctly seen, left no doubt that the whole was the work of the three legions. Farther on were traced the ruins of a rampart, and the hollow of a ditch well nigh filled up. This was supposed to be the spot where the few, who escaped the general massacre, made their last effort, and perished in the attempt. The plains around were white with bones, in some places thinly scattered, in others lying in heaps, as the men happened to fall in flight, or in a body resisted to the last. Fragments of javelins, and the limbs of horses, lay scattered about the field. Human skulls were seen upon the trunks of trees. In the adjacent woods stood the savage altars where the tribunes and principal centurions were offered up a sacrifice with barbarous rites. Some of the soldiers who survived that dreadful day, and afterwards broke their chains, related circumstantially several particulars. "Here the commanders of the legions were put to the sword: on that spot the eagles were seized. There Varus received his first wound: and this is the place where he gave himself the mortal stab, and died by his own sword. Yonder mound was the tribunal from which Arminius harangued his countrymen: here he fixed his gibbets; there he dug the funeral trenches, and in that quarter he offered every mark

" of scorn and insolence to the colours and the Roman " eagles."

LXII. Six years had elapsed since the overthrow of Varus; and now, on the same spot, the Roman army collected the bones of their slaughtered countrymen. Whether they were burying the remains of strangers, or of their own friends, no man knew: all, however, considered themselves as performing the last obsequies to their kindred, and their brother soldiers. While employed in this pious office, their hearts were torn with contending passions; by turns oppressed with grief, and burning for revenge. A monument to the memory of the dead was raised with turf. Germanicus with his own hand laid the first sod; discharging at once the tribute due to the legions, and sympathizing with the rest of the army. The whole, though an act of piety to the slain, was condemned by Tiberius. The malignity of his nature led him to misinterpret the actions of Germanicus; perhaps he was apprehensive, that the view of a field covered with the unburied limbs of a slaughtered army, might damp the ardour of the soldier, and add to the ferocity of the enemy. There might be another reason for his displeasure. Perhaps he thought that a general, invested with the office of augur, and other religious functions, ought not to assist at the performance of funeral rites.

LXIII. Germanicus pressed forward, by rapid marches, in pursuit of Arminius, who fled before him. taking advantage of the defiles, and difficult part of the country. Having overtaken the barbarians, and seeing his opportunity, he ordered the cavalry to advance on the open plain, and dislodge the enemy. Arminius drew up his men in close compacted ranks, and feigning a retreat to the forest, suddenly wheeled about; giving, at the same time, the signal to the troops that lay ambushed in the woods, to rush out, and begin the attack. The Roman cavalry, struck with surprise at the sudden appearance of a new army, were thrown into disorder. They fell back upon the cohorts sent to support them, and a general consternation followed. The barbarians pursued their advantage; and had well nigh driven the Romans into a morass, well known to themselves, but impracticable to strangers, when Germanicus came up with the legions in order of battle. At the sight of a regular force, the Germans were struck with terror. The broken ranks of the Romans had time to rally. Nothing decisive followed: Both armies parted upon equal terms: Germanicus marched back to the river Amisia, and with his legions sailed across the lakes. Part of the cavalry had orders to file along the sea-coast, and by a winding march return to the banks of the Rhine.

Cæcina, at the head of his own division, marched through a country of which he was not ignorant. He had directions to pass the long bridges with all possible expedition. The place so called is a narrow causeway, constructed formerly by Lucius Domitius. It stretches a great length of way between two prodigious marshes. The country round is one vast fen, in some parts covered with a deep and slimy mud, in others with a tenacious heavy clay, intersected frequently with rapid torrents. A thick forest, rising at some distance on a gradual acclivity, inclosed the whole scene, and formed a kind of amphitheatre. Arminius, who knew the course of the country, made a forced march, and took post in the woods before the Romans, encumbered with arms and heavy baggage, arrived at the place. Cæcina found a double difficulty. The bridges, ruined by time, were to be repaired; and the enemy at the same time was to be repulsed. He judged it necessary to pitch his camp; as in that situation a sufficient number might work at the causeway, while the rest were held in readiness to engage the enemy.

LXIV. The barbarians made a vigorous effort to force the outposts, and penetrate to the men working at the intrenchments. They rushed forward with impetuous fury, they wheeled about to the flanks, they returned to charge in front. A mingled shout arose from the labourers and the combatants. All things seemed to conspire against the Romans: the slimy soil, if the men stood still, sunk under them; if they

advanced, it was too slippery for their feet. The weight of the soldiers' armour, and the depth of water, made the management of the javelins almost im-practicable. The Cheruscans, on the contrary, were fighting in their own element; they were used to fens and marshes; their stature was large, and their spears of a length to-wound at a distance. The legions began to give way, when night came on, and put an end to the unequal conflict. The barbarians were too much flushed with success to complain of fatigue, or to think of rest. During the night they cut a channel for the waters, and from the neighbouring hills let down a deluge into the valley. The plains were laid under water; and the half-finished works being carried away by the flood, the soldier saw that his labour was to begin again. Cæcina had been forty years in the service. A man of his experience, who had known the viccissitudes of war, was not to be disconcerted. He saw, between the morass and the hills, a plain of solid ground, large enough for a small army. To that spot, having weighed all circumstances, he judged it his best expedient to send the wounded with the heavy baggage, and in the mean time to confine the Germans in their woods. For this purpose he stationed the fifth legion in the right wing, and the one-and-twentieth in the left; the first legion led the van, and the twentieth brought up the rear.

LXV. The night in both camps was busy and unquiet, but from different causes. The barbarians passed their time in jollity and carousing; warlike songs and savage howlings kept a constant uproar, while the woods and valleys rung with the hideous sound. In the Roman camp the scene was different: pale gleaming fires were seen; no sound, save that of low and hollow murmurs; the soldiers lay extended at length under the palisades, or wandered from tent to tent, fatigued and weary, yet scarce awake. Cæcina was disturbed by a terrible dream: he thought that Quintilius Varus emerged from the fens; and calling upon him to follow, waved his hand to point the way. Unwilling to obey the summons, Cæcina pushed the phantom from him. At break of day, the legions,