Germanicus : the magnificent life and mysterious death of Rome's most popular general

644 Pages·2013·14.95 MB·English

by  Lindsay Powell

For my Mother,
Valerie Powell.
Fi’n caru ti.
Contents
Foreword by Philip Matyzsak
Preface
Acknowledgements
List of Illustrations
List of Maps
Chronology
List of Consuls
Roman Names
Stemmata
1. In the Name of the Father
2. First Steps to Glory
3. Law and Disorder
4. Up Against the Angrivarian Wall
5. Travels and Tribulations in the Orient
6. A Fine Roman in the Best Tradition
7. The Fall of the House of Germanicus
8. The Germanicus Tradition
9. Assessment
Appendix: Decree of the Senate Granting Honours for Germanicus
Glossary
Place Names
Ancient Sources
Notes
Bibliography
Foreword
by Philip Matyzsak
The early years of the Roman empire constitute one of the most fascinating
periods in history. There exists almost no other period before the early modern
era where we have so much information about a particular society. And the thing
about the early modern era is that (almost by definition) many of the values and
viewpoints of western society were coming into alignment with those of today.
This is not the case with the early imperial period. Here we find a society
largely untouched with ideas of chivalry, Judeo-Christian ethics, and even
concepts such as romantic love which form the background to our emotional
lives, just as technology and medicine have changed our material lives. Yet
despite the huge cultural gap between ancient Rome and that of the modern west,
we find ourselves drawn to the emotion, pathos and epic drama which filled the
lives of the early Caesars. The stories from this era are timeless. They deal with
ambition, betrayal, family feuds and violent twists of fortune, often mixed with
mystery, intrigue and flamboyant sexuality.
Of the above, all that detracts from the story of Germanicus is the fact that –
unlike his adoptive father Tiberius – all that is reported of the sex life of
Germanicus is that he was happily married to a loving wife who blessed him
with a regular supply of offspring. (Many of whom did not survive – tragically,
childhood in antiquity was more dangerous than military service.)
In fact there is little in the life of Germanicus that would not make an
inspiring tale in one of the Boy’s Own magazines of a century ago. Our man was
heroic, yet compassionate, intelligent yet sympathetic and if charisma could be
bottled, Germanicus would have had enough to corner the entire Mediterranean
market. The ancient sources tell us of his energy on the campaigns which he
commanded with flair and success. Of how Germanicus personified vengeful
Rome after the treacherous destruction of three Roman legions in the Teutoburg
forest, and how he stopped a mutiny of the Rhine army by the sheer force of his
personality.
Then there is the tragedy of the young hero’s mysterious death in the east.
Was he killed by illness or malice? Did misfortune or a devious plot bring the
career of Rome’s most promising general and politician to its abrupt halt? Here
at last we find the whiff of scandal which this dramatic tale has heretofore been
lacking.
Yet something else has been lacking from the story of the best emperor that
Rome never had – and that is a critical examination by a modern historian. There
was indeed another side to the legend of Germanicus had anyone cared to look
for it, and by the standards of today that side is pretty dark. After the massacre of
the legions in the Teutoburg forest, the problem for a Roman general was not to
defeat the Germans in battle, but to bring them to fight that battle in the first
place. Germanicus achieved this by conducting vast punitive operations over the
Rhine ‘which spared neither age not sex’. In other words, Germanicus massacred
women and children in the hope of provoking their menfolk into fighting.
Nor were those operations without cost to Rome. Gambling that his armies
could be transported by sea despite the proven failure of Roman naval
technology in that regard, Germanicus repeatedly and recklessly rolled the dice
that put his men at peril upon the sea – and finally lost most of his army. Many
of the promises made to the (justifiably) mutinous Rhine legionaries were
broken or quietly forgotten afterwards.
For reasons such as these, the life and strange death of Germanicus require
reexamination by an impartial historian today. Impartiality is needed for another
reason – that the most factually trustworthy historian of the Roman empire,
Cornelius Tacitus, blatantly and viciously slanted those facts against Tiberius,
the adoptive father of Germanicus. In the works of Tacitus, one seldom reads of
Tiberius acting except through selfishness, jealousy or ruthless political
calculation. From a reading of the Annals, one is forced to the conclusion that
Tiberius bitterly resented the brilliance and popularity of his appointed
successor, and schemed to limit and tarnish these at every opportunity. From
Tacitus, one might assume that the jealousy and conservatism of Tiberius were
largely to blame for the failure to assimilate Germania into the Roman empire,
and Germanicus was yanked from his command just as the realization of that
objective appeared possible.
It is a dramatic story – but is it true? At a distance of almost 2,000 years it
takes painstaking research to separate fact from fiction, and drama from reality,
and all too often the effort is futile. This is particularly true of the Julio-
Claudians, a family who combined for contemporaries the modern cult for pop
and film celebrities and the enduring fascination with the private life of royalty.
One can read descriptions of senatorial debate, and inscriptions which survive on
buildings, dedications and statuary, yet the decisions which affected the course
of the Roman empire and the fate of its leaders were generally taken in private
chambers and closed family discussions. It is impossible to know what was said
on such occasions, but that did not stop ancient writers from guessing. And
where the facts failed, they did not shy away from wholesale invention.
For all these reasons a modern, impartial study of the life of Germanicus is
not only timely but overdue. For, apart from the enduring mystery of his death,
Germanicus did come as close as anyone in the attempt to re-establish Roman
rule from the Rhine to the Elbe. Had he succeeded, the history of the Roman
empire – and therefore of subsequent ages – would have been greatly different. It
is worth examining how and why the attempt failed, and learning more about the
man who made it.
Philip ‘Maty’ Matyzsak
May 2012
Kootenay Hills, British Columbia
Preface
In the annals of history, the story of Germanicus stands as a lesson in what
happens when passion, paranoia, principle and power collide. It is a tale of
contrasts. The ebullient spirit of wildly popular Germanicus clashes with the
brooding temperament of his Uncle Tiberius, the reluctant and widely reviled
second emperor of the Roman Empire. The enthusiasm and inexperience of
youth are pitted against the conservatism and judgement that come with age.
Duty vies with self-interest. Acclaimed historical fiction ‘whodunit’ author
Lindsey Davis pithily summed up the two protagonists for me at the first annual
dinner of the Historical Writers’ Association in London in December 2011 as
‘Germanicus good, Tiberius bad’. Usually, the truth is not as black and white.
Historians have to distinguish between shades of grey, and in the process of
exposing the truth, many of the graded hues are revealed as exaggerations or
outright fictions.
Germanicus has received the better press of the two men. During his short
life, Germanicus’ star shone very brightly. His troops adored him as he led them
at the head of the line to glory, while, for many civilians, he embodied their
hopes for a return to the democracy of the old Republic. How Germanicus rose
to prominence is the inspiring tale of courage, integrity and patriotism, and a
remarkable stroke of luck. How he fell is a tale of political errors of judgement,
petty jealousies and possibly murder – with his uncle rumoured to be implicated
in the crime. It is also the extraordinary story of one of the strongest husband-
and-wife partnerships in history. Germanicus and Agrippina did not make an
obvious couple when they married, but they proved to be devoted to each other,
and she bore him many children. After Germanicus’ death, she spent the
remaining years of her life seeking justice for what she saw as treachery behind
her husband’s death and, in so doing, bringing upon herself the ire of Tiberius.
This contrast of light and dark, the tale of a conflicted family, and regret over
lost potential, greatly appealed to classically-inclined intellectuals of the
seventeenth, eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, inspiring them to write plays
about Germanicus and to paint canvasses of scenes from his life – or, more
often, his death. Yet, today, he is hardly known, the story of his life having been
overshadowed by other Caesars, many of whom were far below him in character
and talent. In this book, I hope to make Germanicus’ exciting Boy’s Own life
story known to a new generation of readers.
Remarkably, in modern times, no one has published a full biography in
English, spanning the birth to the death of this most important and popular
Roman, until this one. The Roman biographer Suetonius refers to ‘many authors’
who wrote about Germanicus, but, alas, little actually survives down to our own
time. The nearest thing we have to a biography is the brief opening section of
Suetonius’ own book on Caius Caligula in his Lives of the Caesars. Germanicus’
contemporary, Velleius Paterculus, mentions him in his Roman Histories, almost
incidentally to the main subject of Tiberius’ glorious reign. Of the later
historians, Tacitus, in his Annals, writes a flawed narrative of Germanicus’
military exploits – drawing extensively on an earlier work by Pliny the Elder –
as well as his travels in the East. But Tacitus has a discernible bias towards
Germanicus, so it can be argued that he perhaps paints a rather rosy, overly
sympathetic portrait of the man. In contrast, Germanicus has what could be
characterized as a bit part in Cassius Dio’s sweeping history of the Roman
Empire, written some two hundred years after his death, which drew on older
material, including Tacitus. Other sources – Ammianus Marcellinus, Josephus,
Ovid, Pliny the Elder, and Plutarch among them – provide insights into the
man’s character. In recent times, archaeology has revealed several inscriptions,
amongst the most important of which are the so-called Senatus Consultum de
Cn. Pisone Patre, the Tabula Hebana and Tabula Siarensis. Additionally, there
are a number of statue busts, cameos, and coins, which give us a very good
impression of how he actually looked in life. Like a detective, by critically
assembling this diverse source material and teasing out the bias of each reporter
(since there are no eyewitness accounts), it is possible to convincingly
reconstruct the life story of Germanicus and to create a nuanced portrait of the
man and his achievements.
Germanicus is structured to follow the life of the Roman general
chronologically, and to draw out key themes that shaped it:
Chapter 1, ‘In the Name of the Father’, covering the years 16 BCE to 5 CE,
describes the impact of Drusus the Elder’s death on the boy who assumed his
father’s name and legacy, his upbringing and how he was suddenly thrust into
prominence.

Chapter 2, ‘First Steps to Glory’, covering the years 6 CE to summer 9 CE,
traces Germanicus’ emergence as a military leader during the Batonian Wars and
the dramatic changes to his life, as Augustus prepared for his own death.
Chapter 3, ‘Once More to Germania Magna’, covering the period from autumn 9
CE until 14 CE, describes Germanicus’ rise to the consulship, and how he dealt
with a mutiny of the Rhine army.

Chapter 4, ‘Up Against the Angrivarian Wall’, covering the years 15–16 CE,
describes how he invaded Germania Magna in a war of vengeance against
Arminius and the Cherusci, culminating in the great battles of the Weser River,
Idistaviso and the Angrivarian Wall.
Chapter 5, ‘Travels and Tribulations in Asia Minor’, covering the years 17–19
CE, follows Germanicus as he traversed the east en route to taking up his
position as supreme military commander of the region, and the events leading up
to his death.

Chapter 6, ‘A Fine Roman in the Best Tradition’, describes the extraordinary
events which took place in the immediate aftermath of Germanicus’ death.

Chapter 7, ‘The Fall of the House of Germanicus’, documents the fate of his
wife Agrippina and their children.
Chapter 8, ‘The Germanicus Tradition’, illustrates how Germanicus’ story was
re-invented through the creative interpretations of later ages.
Chapter 9, ‘Assessment’, reviews the life of the man and attempts to separate
fact from fiction in answering the question, ‘what manner of man was
Germanicus?’
The author and literary critic Lionel Trilling (1905–1975) wrote that ‘every
man’s biography is to be understood in relation to his father’ (introduction to
The Portable Matthew Arnold, New York: Viking, 1949, p. 15). It is an opposite
observation here. The life and legend of Germanicus’ father, Nero Claudius
Drusus (known to history as Drusus the Elder), reached far into his son’s. In
many ways they were alike – in personality and temperament, tolerance for
personal risk, loyalty to family and country, but also in their intractability and