The Quest for the Lost Roman Legions

Discovering the Varus Battlefield

Tony Clunn

• Publisher: Savas Beatie
• Year: 2009
• ISBN:
  9781611210088
• Topic: Storia
• Subtopic: Storia militare e marittima

The story of an ancient ambush that devastated Rome—and the modern-day hunt that finally revealed its location and its archaeological treasures. In 9 A.D., the seventeenth, eighteenth, & nineteenth Roman legions and their auxiliary troops under the command of Publius Quinctilius Varus vanished in the boggy wilds of Germania. They died singly and by the hundreds over several days in a carefully planned ambush led by Arminius—a Roman-trained German warrior adopted and subsequently knighted by the Romans, but determined to stop Rome's advance east beyond the Rhine River. By the time it was over, some 25, 000 men, women, and children were dead and the course of European history had been forever altered. "Quinctilius Varus, give me back my legions!" Emperor Augustus agonized aloud when he learned of the devastating loss. As decades passed, the location of the Varus defeat, one of the Western world's most important battlefields, was lost to history. It remained so for two millennia. Fueled by an unshakable curiosity and burning interest in the story, a British Major named J. A. S. (Tony) Clunn delved into the nooks and crannies of times past. By sheer persistence and good luck, he turned the foundation of German national history on its ear. Convinced the running battle took place north of Osnabruck, Germany, Clunn set out to prove his point. His discovery of large numbers of Roman coins in the late 1980s, followed by a flood of thousands of other artifacts (including weapons and human remains), ended the mystery once and for all. Archaeologists and historians across the world agreed. Today, a state-of-the-art museum houses and interprets these priceless historical treasures on the very site Varus's legions were lost. The Quest for the Lost Roman Legions is a masterful retelling of Clunn's search to discover the Varus battlefield. His well-paced and vivid writing style makes for a compelling read as he alternates between his incredible modern quest and the ancient tale of the Roman occupation of Germany—based upon actual finds from the battlefield—that ultimately ended so tragically in the peat bogs of Kalkriese.

PART I

Chapter One

1987: The First Find

For more than six hundred years, people have searched for the site where the Roman army had been annihilated. Early in the sixteenth century, when the story was becoming widely celebrated, the Lippischer Wald was renamed the Teutoburger Wald. In 1875, a monument to Arminius was erected on the supposed site of the battle near Detmold. Nearly everyone with a strong interest in the battle had a theory as to where Varus and his legions met their end. In 1998, however, German archaeologists made a shocking pronouncement: after ten years of research and excavations, the location of one of the most important events in Germany history—in many respects, the birthplace of the German nation—was no longer in doubt.

In 1987, using the most sophisticated metal detectors available, I launched my investigation of what ultimately turned out to be the Varus battlefield. For three years I studied old maps and documents of antiquity, walked fields and woods, surveyed the land, dug into the soil, and pondered over the artifacts I was turning up. Thankfully, all of this was carried out with the blessing, assistance, and guidance of the German museum and local archaeological authorities.

This was not the first time the Detmold position of the battlefield had been seriously challenged. Archaeologists and historians had previously offered up some seven hundred and fifty alternative sites, but never before had the evidence so strongly favored a new location. Extensive desk research led me to the Kalkriese area, but the actual site was pinpointed almost by accident. One month after arriving in Germany in 1987 to begin a tour of duty with the Armored Field Ambulance unit in Osnabrück, I set off on a journey that would consume years of survey, research, and laborious days when it seemed as if the artifacts and the answers would never come. In the beginning, all I really expected to find was the odd Roman coin or artifact. It had been well established by the resident county archaeologist, Dr Wolfgang Schlüter, that not one Roman coin had been recovered from the Osnabrück area during his thirteen years in office.

My story began to unfold shortly after visiting the local museum, where I first met Dr Schlüter. He was naturally very cautious, but decided to take me at face value. After learning my main interest was Roman history and coins, he suggested I start my search in an area about twelve miles north of the city, saying simply it was worth further study. Among the documents and old papers consulted as part of the research on the area was a series of nineteenth century maps and a thesis by Theodore Mommsen, the nineteenth century German historian.

Like many other German historians before him, Mommsen believed he had correctly identified the probable site of the “Teutoburger Wald” Varus battlefield. He based his thesis on the fact that resident landowners of the area, the (Baron) von Bar family, had accumulated a large collection of Roman silver and gold coins, a good majority of which were from the reign of Augustus Caesar. Mommsen had originally been informed that the coins had been found by farm workers in the local fields over the previous centuries and accumulated by the von Bar family (whose family tree can be traced back to the early tenth century). However, Mommsen was also informed, perhaps as an adopted defensive stance, that many of the coins had been collected from finds made all over northern Germany, and not exclusively from the local parish area. Nevertheless, he maintained his theory but was never able to advance it in the absence of further evidence.

After closely studying Mommsen’s theory, I noted that a very old road known as the “Old Military Road” (Heerstrasse) ran through this area. I decided to center my main point of reference on a small crossroads in the middle of the parish area, and it was there my investigation began in earnest.

I read the small number of archaeological publications that described the coin and artifact finds made in the area over the preceding one hundred years. Obviously, the finds made more recently over the last thirty years would perhaps be easier to relocate than those made in the previous century. Because the majority of the publications had been written by Dr Schlüter, I was able to discuss with the author firsthand the basis for his writings. One of his early publications, Osnabrücker Mitteilungen, Band 88–1982, contained a complete listing of many of Mommsen’s records. After careful study, I decided a “recent” find of a Roman denarius, recovered in 1963 by a young lad in a field near the military road crossing, might bear further investigation. I drove out to the area with Dr Schlüter to talk to the local farmers.

Having been introduced to residents living in the immediate area of the crossroads, I met the farmer who vividly remembered the find, for it was his own young son who had brought the coin home some twenty-five years earlier. Ironically, the coin was still lying around the farmer’s house (regrettably they have never been able to find it again). The field where the coin had been recovered was a short distance from their house, and we walked over to look at the general area. I was given an idea of the area where he thought the coin had been found—some fifty meters square—but since time was pressing I decided to return the following day.

Early next morning I got up with the birds and was soon standing in the field, ready to proceed with my detector survey. I have always believed every field has a distinctive part that stands out from the rest. In my experience, it is always best to move to the central point of a field to “get the feel” of the land, so to speak: nothing magical, nothing strange, just a straightforward good spot to pick up the potential activity areas. I walked a few paces and noticed the early morning dew highlighted a very slight elevation running across the field, possibly part of an old track or trail. I moved onto it and tried to orientate its course with the other roads some short distance away, but initially there appeared to be no logical link. (Much later, in the winter months, the connection would become abundantly clear, but at this particular point in time I was a little foxed!) Very often I found the edge of tracks more productive than the center, and I began searching along the side of the grassy elevation.

Over the next few hours I carefully moved up the northern edge of the line of track and outward, meter by meter, toward the edge of the field. Other than the odd piece of silver paper and bottle top, I found nothing. I took a late lunch break and decided to change tack and cover the southern edge of the track. Five minutes later, as I neared the center point of the track, I heard a familiar double-ringed tone in my headset. Some years before I decided to use Fisher metal detectors from America. In 1987, I was using the 1265X model, which was always an infallible source of good finds for me. This occasion would prove no different. In fact, it was the beginning of an incredible series of amazing and wonderful finds which, to the present day (now seventeen years later) continue to amaze as they are unearthed from the soil.

I cut away a square of turf, checked that first and, when I did not get a signal, continued carefully to clear out the black peat from within the hole. I rechecked the signal tone then picked up a handful of soil. No signal in the hole. Painstakingly, I sifted through the contents in my hand, but I could see nothing resembling a solid object as indicated by the signal. I sifted through again and then I saw it: black, small…and round! A tiny glint of silver caught my eye. It was a perfect silver coin, blackened with age, with the same black hue as the peaty soil: a Roman denarius. I saw the proud aquiline features of Augustus Caesar on one side, and on the other, two figures standing behind battle shields and crossed spears. I could hardly believe it. I stood transfixed, savoring a combination of disbelief, excitement, and the pure exhilaration of finding such a wonderful 2,000 year old artifact from ancient Rome.

According to Dr Schlüter, no Roman coins had been found in the Osnabrück area during his tenure, and here I was, three months after my arrival in the district, holding a beautiful Roman coin in the palm of my hand. Rather than put it into a plastic bag in my collecting pouch, I carefully placed it on top of the inverted cut-away turf, and then checked the immediate area of the hole and surrounding area for other signals. At first there was nothing. Then, within a few paces farther along the side of the track, I picked up another clear signal. I repeated the process, but this time the coin proved to be much deeper than the first.

Nevertheless, the Fisher detector gave good signals and the second coin, an early period denarius, was recovered and placed on top of the second turf. Having checked the immediate area of this find without any further signal, I again proceeded up the line of the side of the track. Four yards had separated the first and the second coin, and seven yards further on, another clear signal produced the third find, another early period denarius!

For the next few hours my spirits knew no bounds. I paced up and down the track line, fired with great enthusiasm about the whole area. The military road nearby, the tales from local farmers, the finds made from centuries before—something was about! As I looked across the fields toward the rising hillside some 2,000 yards away, I asked myself over and over again, “Who lost these?” “Who was he?” “What was he doing: running, riding, walking?” “Who came this way?”

Looking up from my reverie, I noticed weekend walkers about, particularly around the small crossroads area about 100 yards away. Some seemed to be taking an interest in my activities, and I decided to withdraw quietly from the field. Holes were filled, turfs were carefully replaced, and after noting the exact locations of those three finds, I packed my kit carefully into the car.

Dr Schlüter was away on a short holiday during the following two weeks, and so I was unable to speak to him and tell him of the find. I was a little worried about revealing the location and finds to the German police at this early stage, not being fully conversant with either their expertise or the recognized procedures to be adopted in these matters. I therefore decided to await Dr Schlüter’s return.

I was fairly busy at work during the following week. It was not until some days later that I had positively identified the three coins. Two were from the era of Augustus and a third was pre-Republican from 100 BC. As the doctor was not back at work until the following Monday, I decided to revisit the site on the weekend and see if I could locate any similar scattered finds.

Based on the position of the previous three coins, I decided to concentrate on a 50 x 20 meter rectangle with the coin-find sites as the center of the survey. The earth had been very peaty and very dark, and locating blackened silver denarii was exceedingly difficult. Even sifting the compressed peat in my hand had failed to reveal them straight away, so I decided to take a common garden sieve with me. For a change, I also took my son and daughter to give them a few hours out in the countryside while I searched for more coins. They both proved to be of invaluable assistance as the day wore on.

When we arrived at the area of the field early on Saturday morning, I carefully checked the find positions of the three coins and marked them with three small colored stakes. It was interesting to see, just one week later, that there appeared to be no visible evidence of the old track; it was as if the path had disappeared altogether.

Using the field fence posts as reference points from my logbook, I had my son and daughter lay out a rectangle of white tape straddling the coin find sites, aligning it with the general line of the “missing” path. Once this had been done, I carried out a search of the marked area. I have always believed in working outward from a find site and maintaining a straight-line search pattern. Across the marked rectangle in the grassy field I laid out two white tape lines running through the line of the left and right-hand find sites. This internal rectangle I began to search first, my theory being that the line of the track may have been very relevant to the loss of the coins some 2,000 years ago.

My son and daughter had gone off to play at the very end of the field. It was a beautiful summer morning. Only the birds’ gentle chatter could be heard, and though the main crossroads was not far away at the end of the field, nothing moved or disturbed the wonderful tranquility of the setting. I scarcely noticed anything going on around me after that, so intense was my concentration at this point. Adjusting my headset to a more comfortable position, I turned up the gain control a little more and carefully walked across the grass. After a few minutes, halfway up the first leg of my search pattern, I came upon the first coin of the day. I knew it was a coin even before I cut away the turf. The Fisher 1265X “loved” coins, and particularly relished Roman silver! It gave a great sounding signal. When I heard that double ringing tone yet again, I knew it was another good find. Cutting away the turf, I carried out the normal checks of turf first, then the hole. The ringing tones remained. I was amazed. From a good 30 centimeters down, I brought the black earth containing the coin to the surface. Again I found it very difficult to locate the coin. In the end, gently sifting away the excess, I uncovered another beautiful blackened denarius.

It was in marvelous condition, again showing the proud aquiline features of Augustus. On the reverse this time was a large bull, head lowered, as if ready to charge. I took out a small plastic bag and dropped it in, noting the site and depth of find in my small logbook. Considerably excited at this fourth find, I continued with my sweep of the inner marked rectangle.

During the next hour another five denarii came to light. Each one was carefully noted in my log. When the search of the inner rectangle was complete, I called my children over to sit down for a quick coffee and to discuss the remainder of the day. It was my son’s birthday, and I wanted to ensure any plans of his for the rest of the day were not spoiled by my staying at Kalkriese. However, their enthusiasm was as great as mine, and they both decided to remain with me as long as was necessary.

I looked over my log and the map, trying to work out any obvious pattern in the scattered coin finds. I spent some five minutes attempting to orientate the location. First, I took the line of the old track, and then other obvious lines of activity across the field. Having now completed my first good sweep of that area, I decided to move outside the inner marked rectangle and search down the side of the path where I imagined it ran through the field. This was now a good twenty yards from the other find sites, and I had little hope that I would be as successful as before. I could not have been more wrong

I had only moved some five yards in this new sweep area when I heard the familiar Fisher double tone. I cut the turf away and laid it to one side, then swept the detector over the exposed area. Again the double tone, not once, but now three distinct separate “marks.” I nearly forgot the golden rule, but swept over the cut-away turf as well. Another double tone! I gently pulled at the black earth on the underside and a small black coin dropped out. Only then did I start to imagine that perhaps I had found the center point of the scattered coin finds. I rechecked the turf again, both sides, and with a slight quickening of pulse moved the Fisher over the hole. The first coin I recovered was only some four or five centimeters down, but again the black soil was making recovery slow. I called my children over, gave them a quick explanation of what was happening and suggested we...

Table of contents

• Front Cover
• Title Page
• Copyright Page
• Dedication Page
• Contents
• Preface and Acknowledgements
• Foreword by Prof. Dr. Wolfgang Schülhter
• Introduction by Derek Williams
• Romans and Germans
• The History of the Times
• Part I
• Part II
• Aftermath: From the Mists of Time to the Present
• Postscript by Christian Jaletzke
• Afterword by Arnold J. Koelpin
• Keyword Glossary
• Geographic References
• The Historians
• Sequence of Events
• Roman Forts and Lagers
• Bibliography
• Footnotes