Hermann The Hero Of Germany

In the days of Augustus, the emperor of Rome in its golden age of

prosperity, an earnest effort was made to subdue and civilize barbarian

Germany. Drusus, the step-son of the emperor, led the first army of

invasion into this forest-clad land of the north, penetrating deeply

into the country and building numerous forts to guard his conquests. His

last invasion took him as far as the Elbe. Here, as we are told, he

found imself confronted by a supernatural figure, in the form of a

woman, who waved him back with lofty and threatening air, saying, "How

much farther wilt thou advance, insatiable Drusus? It is not thy lot to

behold all these countries. Depart hence! the term of thy deeds and of

thy life is at hand." Drusus retreated, and died on his return.



Tiberius, his brother, succeeded him, and went far to complete the

conquest he had begun. Germany seemed destined to become a Roman

province. The work of conquest was followed by efforts to civilize the

free-spirited barbarians, which, had they been conducted wisely, might

have led to success. One of the Roman governors, Sentius, prefect of the

Rhine, treated the people so humanely that many of them adopted the arts

and customs of Rome, and the work of overcoming their barbarism was

well begun. He was succeeded in this office by Varus, a friend and

confidant of the emperor, but a man of very different character, and one

who not only lacked military experience and mental ability, but utterly

misunderstood the character of the people he was dealing with. They

might be led, they could not be driven into civilization, as the new

prefect was to learn.



All went well as long as Varus remained peacefully in his head-quarters,

erecting markets, making the natives familiar with the attractive wares

of Rome, instructing them in civilized arts, and taking their sons into

the imperial army. All went ill when he sought to hasten his work by

acts of oppression, leading his forces across the Weser into the land of

the Cherusci, enforcing there the rigid Roman laws, and chastising and

executing free-born Germans for deeds which in their creed were not

crimes. Varus, who had at first made himself loved by his kindness, now

made himself hated by his severity. The Germans brooded over their

wrongs, awed by the Roman army, which consisted of thirty thousand

picked men, strongly intrenched, their camps being impregnable to their

undisciplined foes. Yet the high-spirited barbarians felt that this army

was but an entering wedge, and that, if not driven out, their whole

country would gradually be subdued.



A patriot at length arose among the Cherusci, determined to free his

country from the intolerable Roman yoke. He was a handsome and athletic

youth, Arminius, or Hermann as the Germans prefer to name him, of noble

descent, and skilled alike in the arts of war and of oratory, his

eloquence being equal to his courage. He was one of the sons of the

Germans who had served in the Roman armies, and had won there such

distinction as to gain the honors of knighthood and citizenship. Now,

perceiving clearly the subjection that threatened his countrymen, and

filled with an ardent love of liberty, he appeared among them, and

quickly filled their dispirited souls with much of his own courage and

enthusiasm. At midnight meetings in the depths of the forests a

conspiracy against Varus and his legions was planned, Hermann being the

chosen leader of the perilous enterprise.



It was not long before this conspiracy was revealed. The German control

over the Cherusci had been aided by Segestus, a treacherous chief, whose

beautiful and patriotic daughter, Thusnelda, had given her hand in

marriage to Hermann, against her father's will. Filled with revengeful

anger at this action, and hoping to increase his power, Segestus told

the story of the secret meetings, which he had discovered, to Varus, and

bade him beware, as a revolt against him might at any moment break out.

He spoke to the wrong man. Pride in the Roman power and scorn of that of

the Germans had deeply infected the mind of Varus, and he heard with

incredulous contempt this story that the barbarians contemplated rising

against the best trained legions of Rome.



Autumn came, the autumn of the year 9 A.D. The long rainy season of the

German forests began. Hermann decided that the time had arrived for the

execution of his plans. He began his work with a deceitful skill that

quite blinded the too-trusting Varus, inducing him to send bodies of

troops into different parts of the country, some to gather provisions

for the winter supply of the camps, others to keep watch over some

tribes not yet subdued. The Roman force thus weakened, the artful German

succeeded in drawing Varus with the remainder of his men from their

intrenchments, by inducing one of the subjected tribes to revolt.



The scheme of Hermann had, so far, been completely successful. Varus,

trusting to his representations, had weakened his force, and now

prepared to draw the main body of his army out of camp. Hermann remained

with him to the last, dining with him the day before the starting of the

expedition, and inspiring so much confidence in his faithfulness to Rome

that Varus refused to listen to Segestus, who earnestly entreated him to

take Hermann prisoner on the spot. He even took Hermann's advice, and

decided to march on the revolted tribe by a shorter than the usual

route, oblivious to the fact that it led through difficult mountain

passes, shrouded in forests and bordered by steep and rocky acclivities.



The treacherous plans of the patriotic German had fully succeeded. While

the Romans were toiling onward through the straitened passes, Hermann

had sought his waiting and ambushed countrymen, to whom he gave the

signal that the time for vengeance had come. Then, as if the dense

forests had borne a sudden crop of armed men, the furious barbarians

poured out in thousands upon the unsuspecting legionaries.



A frightful storm was raging. The mountain torrents, swollen by the

downpour of rain, over--flowed their banks and invaded the passes, along

which the Romans, encumbered with baggage, were wearily dragging onward

in broken columns. Suddenly, to the roar of winds and waters, was added

the wild war-cry of the Germans, and a storm of arrows, javelins, and

stones hurtled through the disordered ranks, while the barbarians,

breaking from the woods, and rushing downward from the heights, fell

upon the legions with sword and battle-axe, dealing death with every

blow.



Only the discipline of the Romans saved them from speedy destruction.

With the instinct of their training they hastened to gather into larger

bodies, and their resistance, at first feeble, soon became more

effective. The struggle continued until night-fall, by which time the

surviving Romans had fought their way to a more open place, where they

hastily intrenched. But it was impossible for them to remain there.

Their provisions were lost or exhausted, thousands of foes surrounded

them, and their only hope lay in immediate and rapid flight.



Sunrise came. The soldiers had recovered somewhat from the fatigue of

the day before. Setting fire to what baggage remained in their hands,

they began a retreat fighting as they went, for the implacable enemy

disputed every step. The first part of their route lay through an open

plain, where they marched in orderly ranks. But there were mountains

still to pass, and they quickly found themselves in a wooded and

pathless valley, in whose rugged depths defence was almost impossible.

Here they fell in thousands before the weapons of their foes. It was but

a small body of survivors that at length escaped from that deadly defile

and threw up intrenchments for the night in a more open spot.



With the dawn of the next day they resumed their progress, and were at

no great distance from their stronghold of Aliso when they found their

progress arrested by fresh tribes, who assailed them with murderous

fury. On they struggled, fighting, dying, marking every step of the

route with their dead. Varus, now reduced to despair, and seeing only

slaughter or captivity before him, threw himself on his sword, and died

in the midst of those whom his blind confidence had led to destruction.

Of the whole army only a feeble remnant reached Aliso, which fort they

soon after abandoned and fought their way to the Rhine. While this was

going on, the detachments which Varus had sent out in various directions

were similarly assailed, and met the same fate as had overtaken the main

body of the troops.






No more frightful disaster had ever befallen the Roman arms. Many

prisoners had been taken, among them certain judges and lawyers, who

were the chief objects of Hermann's hate, and whom he devoted to a

painful death. He then offered sacrifices to the gods, to whom he

consecrated the booty, the slain, and the leading prisoners, numbers of

them being slain on the altars of his deities. These religious

ceremonies completed, the prisoners who still remained were distributed

among the tribes as slaves. The effort of Varus to force Roman customs

and laws upon the Germans had led to a fearful retribution.



When the news of this dreadful event reached Rome, that city was filled

with grief and fear. The heart of Augustus, now an old man, was stricken

with dismay at the slaughter of the best soldiers of the empire. With

neglected dress and person he wandered about the rooms and halls of the

palace, his piteous appeal, "Varus, give me back my legions!" showing

how deeply the disaster had pierced his soul. Hasty efforts were at once

made to prevent the possible serious consequences of the overthrow of

the slain legions. The Romans on the Rhine intrenched themselves in all

haste. The Germans in the imperial service were sent to distant

provinces, and recruits were raised in all parts of the country, their

purpose being to protect Gaul from an invasion by the triumphant tribes.

Yet so great was the fear inspired by the former German onslaughts, and

by this destructive outbreak, that only threats of death induced the

Romans to serve. As it proved, this defensive activity was not needed.

The Germans, satisfied, as it seemed, with expelling the Romans from

their country, destroyed their forts and military roads, and settled

back into peace, with no sign of a desire to cross the Rhine.



For six years peace continued. Augustus died, and Tiberius became

emperor of Rome. Then, in the year 14 A.D., an effort was made to

reconquer Germany, an army commanded by the son of Drusus, known to

history under the name of Germanicus, attacking the Marsi, when

intoxicated and unarmed after a religious feast. Great numbers of the

defenceless tribesmen were slain, but the other tribes sprung to arms

and drove the invader back across the Rhine.



In the next year Hermann was again brought into the fray. Segestus had

robbed him of his wife, the beautiful patriot Thusnelda, who hitherto

had been his right hand in council in his plans against the Roman foe.

Hermann besieged Segestus to regain possession of his wife, and pressed

the traitor so closely that he sent his son Sigismund to Germanicus, who

was again on the German side of the Rhine, imploring aid. The Roman

leader took instant advantage of this promising opportunity. He advanced

and forced Hermann to raise the siege, and himself took possession of

Thusnelda, who was destined soon afterwards to be made the leading

feature in a Roman triumph. Segestus was rewarded for his treason, and

was given lands in Gaul, his life being not safe among the people he had

betrayed. As for the daughter whom he had yielded to Roman hands, her

fate troubled little his base soul.



Thusnelda is still a popular character in German legend, there being

various stories extant concerning her. One of these relates that, when

she lay concealed in the old fort of Schellenpyrmont, she was warned by

the cries of a faithful bird of the coming of the Romans, who were

seeking stealthily to approach her hiding-place.



The loss of his beloved wife roused Hermann's heroic spirit, and spread

indignation among the Germans, who highly esteemed the noble-hearted

consort of their chief. They rose hastily in arms, and Hermann was soon

at the head of a large army, prepared to defend his country against the

invading hosts of the Romans. But as the latter proved too strong to

face in the open field, the Germans retreated with their families and

property, the country left by them being laid waste by the advancing

legions.



Germanicus soon reached the scene of the late slaughter, and caused the

bones of the soldiers of Varus to be buried. But in doing this he was

obliged to enter the mountain defiles in which the former army had met

its fate. Hermann and his men watched the Romans intently from forest

and hilltop. When they had fairly entered the narrow valleys, the adroit

chief appeared before them at the head of a small troop, which retreated

as if in fear, drawing them onward until the whole army had entered the

pass.



Then the fatal signal was given, and the revengeful Germans fell upon

the legionaries of Germanicus as they had done upon those of Varus,

cutting them down in multitudes. But Germanicus was a much better

soldier than Varus. He succeeded in extricating the remnant of his men,

after they had lost heavily, and in making an orderly retreat to his

ships, which awaited him upon the northern coast whence he had entered

the country. There were two other armies, one of which had invaded

Germany from the coast of Friesland, and was carried away by a flood,

narrowly escaping complete destruction. The third had entered from the

Rhine. This was overtaken by Hermann while retreating over the long

bridges which the Romans had built across the marshes of Muensterland,

and which were now in a state of advanced decay. Here it found itself

surrounded by seemingly insuperable dangers, being, in part of its

route, shut up in a narrow dell, into which the enemy had turned the

waters of a rapid stream. While defending their camp, the waters poured

upon the soldiers, rising to their knees, and a furious tempest at the

same time burst over their heads. Yet discipline, again prevailed. They

lost heavily, but succeeded in cutting their way through their enemies

and reaching the Rhine.



In the next year, 17 A.D., Germanicus again invaded Germany, sailing

with a thousand ships through the northern seas and up the Ems. Flavus,

the brother of Hermann, who had remained in the service of Rome, was

with him, and addressed his patriotic brother from the river-side,

seeking to induce him to desert the German cause, by painting in

glowing colors the advantage of being a Roman citizen. Hermann, furious

at his desertion of his country, replied to him with curses, as the only

language worthy to use to a traitor, and would have ridden across the

stream to kill him, but that he was held back by his men.



A battle soon succeeded, the Germans falling into an ambuscade artfully

laid by the Roman leader, and being defeated with heavy loss. Germanicus

raised a stately monument on the spot, as a memorial of his victory. The

sight of this Roman monument in their country infuriated the Germans,

and they attacked the Romans again, this time with such fury, and such

slaughter on both sides, that neither party was able to resume the fight

when the next day dawned. Germanicus, who had been very severely

handled, retreated to his ships and set sail. On his voyage the heavens

appeared to conspire against him. A tempest arose in which most of the

vessels were wrecked and many of the legionaries lost. When he returned

to Rome, shortly afterwards, a fort on the Taunus was the only one which

Rome possessed in Germany. Hermann had cleared his country of the foe.

Yet Germanicus was given a triumph, in which Thusnelda walked, laden

with chains, to the capitol.



The remaining events in the life of this champion of German liberty were

few. While the events described had been taking place in the north of

Germany, there were troubles in the south. Here a chieftain named

Marbodius, who, like Hermann, had passed his youth in the Roman armies,

was the leader of several powerful tribes. He lacked the patriotism of

Hermann, and sought to ally himself with the Romans, with the hope of

attaining to supreme power in Germany.



Hermann sought to rouse patriotic sentiments in his mind, but in vain,

and the movements of Marbodius having revealed his purposes, a coalition

was formed against him, with Hermann at its head. He was completely

defeated, and southern Germany saved from Roman domination, as the

northern districts had already been.



Peace followed, and for several years Hermann remained general-in-chief

of the German people, and the acknowledged bulwark of their liberties.

But envy arose; he was maligned, and accused of aiming at sovereignty,

as Marbodius had done; and at length his own relations, growing to hate

and fear him, conspired against and murdered him.



Thus ignobly fell the noblest of the ancient Germans, the man whose

patriotism saved the realm of the Teutonic tribes from becoming a

province of the empire of Rome. Had not Hermann lived, the history of

Europe might have pursued a different course, and the final downfall of

the colossus of the south been long averted, Germany acting as its

bulwark of defence instead of becoming the nursery of its foes.