Romans and Barbarians

TACITUS, Germania (ca. 100 C.E.)

Tacitus (ca. 56–117 C.E.), the greatest Roman historian, wrote at a time when Rome had reached the zenith of its power. In addition to his works on imperial politics, the Annals and the Histories, Tacitus wrote a study of the Germanic tribes who lived beyond the borders of the empire. In his studies of Roman politics, he described abundant examples of corruption and tyranny, but among the Germanic tribes he found a good deal to admire. As you read the document, think about the possible connections between Tacitus’s critique of Roman politics and his admiration of the Germanic tribes. In what ways might his description of the Germanic tribes constitute an indirect criticism of his own society?

The land may vary a certain amount in its appearance, but in general it either bristles with forests or festers with marshes. It is wetter on the side facing the Gauls, windier opposite Noricum and Pannonia.1 It is fertile for sown crops but will not grow fruit trees. It is rich in livestock, but these are mostly undersized. Even on their foreheads the cattle lack their proper distinction and glory. The people take pride in their quantity, for their cattle are their sole, greatly prized wealth.

Silver and gold have been denied them by the gods, whether as a sign of favor or of anger I cannot say. . . .

Their kings they choose for their noble birth, their army commanders for their valor. Even the kings do not have absolute or unrestricted power, and their commanders lead by example rather than by issuing orders, gaining respect if they are energetic, if they stand out, if they are on the front of the line. Executions, imprisonment, even floggings, are allowed to no one other than the priests, and are not carried out as a punishment or on the orders of the commander, but as it were at the behest of the deity whom they believe to be present as they wage war. They actually bring with them into battle certain images and symbols taken from the sacred groves.

It is a particular incitement to valor that their squadrons and wedges are not formed at random or by chance mustering but are composed of families and kinship groups. They have their nearest and dearest close by, as well, so that they can hear the shrieks of their women and the crying of their children. For each man these are the most sacred witnesses, their praise is the most highly valued. It is to their mothers and their wives, who do not shrink from examining their cuts, that they go with their wounds. They also bring food and words of encouragement to the men as they fight. It is recorded that some armies that were already wavering and on the point of collapse have been rallied by women pleading steadfastly, blocking their path with bared breasts, and reminding their men how near they themselves are to being taken captive. This they fear by a long way more desperately for their women than for themselves. . . . They even believe that there is something holy and an element of the prophetic in women, hence they neither scorn their advice nor ignore their predictions. . . .

On minor matters only the chiefs decide, on major questions the whole community. But even cases where the decision lies with the commons are considered in advance by the chiefs. Except when there is some chance or sudden happening, they assemble on fixed days, either just before the new moon or just after the full moon. This they reckon to be the most auspicious starting point for transacting business. Indeed, they do not reckon time by days, as we do, but by nights. All their decisions, all their agreements, are made in this way: night is seen as ushering in the day.

Their freedom of spirit involves a drawback, in that they do not assemble all at the same time or as if commanded, but take two or three days over it, hanging back. When the assembled crowd is ready, they take their seats, carrying arms. Silence is commanded by the priests, who have on these occasions the right to enforce obedience. Then the king or the chiefs are heard, in accordance with each one’s age, nobility, military distinction, or eloquence. The power of persuasion counts for more than the right to give orders. If a proposal displeases them, they shout out their dissent. If they approve, they clash their spears. Showing approval with weapons is the most honorable way to express assent.

One may also bring in an accusation in the assembly, including a capital charge. The penalty varies according to the crime. Traitors and deserters are hanged on trees. Cowards, those who will not fight, . . . are plunged into a boggy mire. . . .

They transact no business, public or private, except under arms. But it is their practice that no one may bear arms until the community has recognized him as fit to use them. Then in the assembly itself either one of the chiefs or his own father or his kinsmen present the young man with shield and spear. . . .

When they are not waging war they occupy a little of their time in hunting but a good deal is spent without occupation: they devote themselves to sleeping and eating. . . .

It is well known that none of the German peoples live in cities, and that they cannot even bear to live in adjoining houses. They dwell apart from one another, scattered about, wherever a spring, a plain, or a wood attracts them. They do not lay out their villages in our style, with buildings joined and connected together. Each of them leaves an open space around his house, either as a protection against the risk of fire, or because they lack skill in building. They do not use stones or bricks. They employ timber for all purposes, roughly cut, for they are not concerned to achieve a pleasant external appearance. . . .

The marriage code is strict there, and there is no aspect of their morality that deserves higher praise. They are almost the only barbarians who are content with a single wife, except for a very few, who are not motivated by sexual appetite — it is, rather, that they are courted with numerous offers of marriage on account of their noble rank. The dowry is not brought by the wife to the husband but by the husband to the wife. . . . They live a life of sheltered chastity, uncorrupted by the temptations of public shows or the excitements of banquets. Men and women alike know nothing of clandestine letters. Considering the great size of the population, adultery is very rare. The penalty for it is instant and left to the husband. He cuts off her hair, strips her naked in the presence of her kinsmen, and flogs her all through the village. They have no mercy on a woman who prostitutes her chastity. . . . [A wife] must love not so much the husband himself as their marriage. To limit the number of their children or to kill one of the later-born is regarded as a crime. Good morality is more effective there than good laws elsewhere.

In every household the children grow up, naked and dirty, to that size of limb and stature which we admire in them. Each mother breastfeeds her own child and does not hand them over to maids or nurses. . . . The young men are slow to mate, and reach manhood with unimpaired vigor. Nor are the virgins hurried into marriage. Being as old and as tall as the men, they are equal to their mates in age and strength, and the children inherit the robustness of their parents. . . .

It is an obligation to take over the father’s or kinsman’s feuds and friendships. But feuds do not go on with no reconciliation. In fact, even homicide can be atoned for with a fixed number of cattle or sheep. The whole family receives this compensation. This is an advantage for the community, since feuds are rather dangerous where freedom exists. . . .

The practice of lending out capital and stretching it out into interest is unknown: ignorance is a surer protection than any prohibition. Lands are occupied by the whole people to be cultivated, the quantity determined by the number of cultivators. They then divide the lands out among themselves according to rank. The great extent of the land makes the division easy. They plough different fields every year and there is still spare land available.

From Tacitus, Agricola and Germania, trans. Anthony R. Birley (Oxford, U.K.: Oxford University Press, 1999), pp. 39–50.