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 circ.u.mstances 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 a.s.sert 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, Ca.s.sius Longinus, Marcus Vincinus and Rubellius Blandus; a.s.sisted 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 pa.s.s 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 const.i.tutions.

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 Seja.n.u.s, and herself famous for many amours, was impeached of impious rites devised against the Prince. In the charge were involved, as her a.s.sociates and adulterers, Cneius Domitius, Vibius Marsus, and Lucius Arruntius. The n.o.ble descent of Domitius I have above declared: Marsus too was distinguished by the ancient dignities in his house, and himself ill.u.s.trious 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 Seja.n.u.s, 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 Seja.n.u.s, 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 antic.i.p.ated 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 l.u.s.ts it was decreed, "that Grasidius Sacerdos, formerly Praetor, should be exiled into an island; Pontius Fregella.n.u.s 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, s.e.xtus 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 embarra.s.sments 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 a.s.sume 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 prost.i.tutions 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 Seja.n.u.s: at last he abandoned himself, at once, to the rage of tyranny and the sway of his l.u.s.ts: 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 encompa.s.sed 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 Abn.o.ba, 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 G.o.d sprung from the earth, and _Mannus_ his son, as the fathers and founders of the nation. To _Mannus_ they a.s.sign 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 G.o.d 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 pa.s.sed 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 a.s.suming 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 mult.i.tude 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 Noric.u.m 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 G.o.ds 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 Amba.s.sadors, 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 hors.e.m.e.n 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 s.p.a.ce, all naked or only wearing a light ca.s.sock. 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 princ.i.p.al 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 t.i.tle 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, pa.s.ses 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 a.s.semblies; 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 surpa.s.s all in admiration and pre-eminence, if they surpa.s.s 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 princ.i.p.al 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 b.r.e.a.s.t.s, 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 G.o.ds, 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 G.o.ds enclosed within walls, or to represent them under any human likeness. They consecrate whole woods and groves, and by the names of the G.o.ds 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 G.o.ds, 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 a.s.surance reposed, not by the populace only, but even by the n.o.bles, even by the Priests. These account themselves the ministers of the G.o.ds, 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 a.s.semble 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 a.s.sembling. 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 n.o.bility, 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 a.s.sent, is to express their applause by the sound of their arms.

In the a.s.sembly 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 prost.i.tutes 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 a.s.semblies are also chosen their chiefs or rulers, such as administer justice in their villages and boroughs. To each of these are a.s.signed an hundred persons chosen from amongst the populace, to accompany and a.s.sist 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 a.s.sembly, 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 n.o.ble, 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 princ.i.p.al 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 surpa.s.ses in the number and magnanimity of his followers. For such are courted by Emba.s.sies, 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 surpa.s.sed 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 n.o.bility, 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 pa.s.s 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 pa.s.ses 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 s.p.a.ce 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 l.u.s.tre 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 G.o.ds.

That the woman may not suppose herself free from the considerations of fort.i.tude 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 chast.i.ty 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 prost.i.tuted 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, n.o.body 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 canva.s.sed; 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 cla.s.s, 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 quant.i.ty 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 surpa.s.s 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 n.o.bles. 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 s.p.a.cious, the allotments are easily a.s.signed. 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 compa.s.s 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.