[Footnote 46: The Eastern division of the province.]
II
A CENTURY OF REVIVAL
An observer of the calamities and disgraces which overtook the Empire
in what I have called "A Century of Disgrace," might have supposed that
the end was at hand. But an ancient institution does not perish so
easily. The Empire still possessed a great prestige, an organisation of
government which had been worked out by a succession of able statesmen
and rulers, and an army with numberless traditions of victory. Given
an able leader, there would certainly be a revival of vigour, or, to
say the least, a check to the progress of decay. A better time began
with the death of Gallienus, the son of Valerian, in A.D. 268. He
perished, it is doubtful whether by treachery or accident, in one of
the numberless conflicts that occurred during this period between
the possessor of the imperial throne and the numerous pretenders who
aspired to it. His successor was a soldier of humble origin, though
he bore the old patrician name of Claudius. He had soon an opportunity
of showing his qualities as a soldier. In the year after his accession
to the throne a huge army of Goths and of other tribes who were
accustomed to fight under their standard invaded the provinces south
of the Danube. Claudius hastened to encounter them, and fought a great
battle at Nissa in Servia in which 50,000 of the barbarians are said
to have perished. Little is known of the details of this or indeed of
any of the conflicts of the time; the chronicles of the age are wanting
in the power of description and, indeed, in all literary gift, but
we gather that the legions were beginning to give way when Claudius
brought up reinforcements to their help. These fresh troops fell upon
the barbarian rear, and wholly changed the fortunes of the day. But
the victory of Nissa did not put an end to the war. Nor, indeed, did
Claudius live to finish it. He did enough, it is true, to win the
title of Gothicus, and to deserve it better than was sometimes the
case with Emperors who were similarly honoured.[47] But he died--the
victim, it was said, of a plague which had originated in the barbarian
camp--after a reign of little more than two years, and left the
completion of the war to his successor Aurelian.
Aurelian's reign was but little longer than that of Claudius. It began
in August, 270, and was ended in March, 275, by assassination; but this
brief period was crowded with great achievements. In dealing with the
Goths he showed that he was a statesman as well as a soldier. After
conclusively proving to them that he could vanquish them in the field,
he turned them, by a seasonable generosity, from enemies into friends.
It had become evident that the province which Trajan had added to the
Empire could no longer be held with advantage; Dacia, accordingly, was
given up to the Goths, and a tribe associated with them, of whom we
shall hear again, the Vandals. The Goths remained loyal to Rome, till,
as we shall see, they were forced into hostility. They even furnished a
body of auxiliary cavalry to the imperial army.
But while Aurelian was thus engaged, Italy and even Rome were
endangered by the attack of another multitude of the same German
race. The Alemanni, a people of which we know next to nothing except
the stock to which they belonged,[48] suddenly crossed the Roman
frontier, and made their way as far as the north of Italy. The armies
of the Empire were engaged elsewhere, and the invaders plundered the
country without hindrance. They had even made their way back to the
Danube when Aurelian encountered them. It is not easy to understand the
story of what followed. The Emperor outmanœuvres the barbarians, and
reduces them to such extremities that they beg for peace. When their
envoys are introduced to the presence of Aurelian, there is a sudden
change of circumstances. The Alemanni, instead of imploring pardon,
dictate conditions. They must have a subsidy, if Rome would have them
as allies. The Emperor dismisses them with an indignant refusal,
and we expect to hear of the severest punishment being inflicted on
them. Nothing of the kind occurs. Aurelian, called elsewhere by some
demand which he cannot refuse, disappears from the scene, and leaves
the completion of the business to his lieutenants. They neglect their
duty or fail to perform it; the Alemanni take the opportunity, break
through the _cordon_ of troops which had been formed round them, and
make their way back to Italy. We next hear of them as ravaging the
territory of Milan. Aurelian orders the legions to follow them with
all the speed that they could manage, and hastens himself to defend
Italy with a quickly moving force, partly composed, it is interesting
to observe, of auxiliary cavalry levied from the new settlers in Dacia.
The struggle that followed is not what we should have expected after
hearing of the straits to which the Alemanni had been reduced at the
Danube. At Piacenza the Roman army came perilously near to destruction.
The barbarians fall unexpectedly upon the legions as they march
carelessly through a wooded defile. Only by the greatest exertions does
Aurelian rally them. But though the army is saved from destruction, it
cannot arrest the progress of the enemy. When we next hear of them the
barbarians have advanced more than a hundred miles nearer to Rome. Near
the Metaurus, and not far from the spot where Hasdrubal had perished,
the Emperor overtook them. This time they must have suffered a serious
defeat, for their third and last appearance in Northern Italy, near
Pavia (the ancient _Ticinum_). Historians relate that they were
exterminated, and this is probably true, for it was the fate that would
naturally overtake unsuccessful invaders of Italy.
I may mention in the very briefest way that Aurelian restored the Roman
power in the East by overthrowing Zenobia, who, since the death of her
husband Odenathus, had remained independent at Palmyra, and in the West
by putting an end to the usurpation of Tetricus, who had maintained his
independence in Gaul and Britain for several years. To all appearance,
the Empire was restored to what it had been at the death of Marcus
Aurelius.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 47: Domitian, for instance, was styled _Germanicus_, though
his campaigns against the Germans were marked by disaster rather than
by victory.]
[Footnote 48: The historians of the time do not give them the same
name.]
III
THREE DEADLY BLOWS
To tell the story of the last century of the Roman Empire in any
fullness of detail would be impossible in any space that I can command.
I must limit myself to a narrative of what may truly be called the
three most significant incidents in that period.
The first of the fatal blows which may be said to have brought the
Empire of Rome to an end was dealt almost against the will of those
from whom it came. The policy of Aurelian in ceding Dacia to the Goths
had been, on the whole, successful. They had been contented and even
friendly, finding sufficient employment for their arms in extending
their power among their barbarous neighbours, and furnishing not a few
recruits to the imperial armies. In 375 they were disturbed by reports
of an invading host which was advancing from the north and east. These
reports pictured the new-comers as hideous in appearance and cruelly
savage in character. We are now used to the Tartar countenance, but
to Europe in the fourth century the broad, almost beardless face,
flat nose, eyes set wide apart, and squat figure, were as frightful
as they were strange. As for the savagery of the Huns--for so the
new-comers were called--rumours were scarcely exaggerated. The Goths
had themselves in former times been scarcely less ferocious in their
manners, but they had now for several generations been in contact with
civilisation, and the Christian faith had begun to find its way among
them. Both divisions of the nation, known by the names of Ostrogoths
and Visigoths, were successively defeated by the invading host, which
showed military skill as well as courage. The Ostrogoths submitted, as
a body, to the invaders, though a considerable minority contrived to
escape, taking with them their infant king. The Visigoths resolved to
throw themselves on the protection of Rome. They sent envoys to the
Emperor (Valens), and begged that they might be permitted to cross
the frontier. After some delay Valens gave his consent, and the whole
nation--a few scattered companies excepted--was transported across the
Danube. The numbers of the refugees may be calculated at a million,
as there were no less than two hundred thousand males of the military
age. It had been stipulated that all weapons should be given up. But
this condition was very generally evaded. The corrupt officials of the
Empire were ready, for a consideration, to permit the Gothic warriors
to keep their arms. Having thus allowed them to remain formidable, they
proceeded, with almost incredible folly, to insult and oppress them
in every possible way. They robbed them of their wives and children,
and sold at extortionate prices the food which the Imperial Government
was bound to provide without cost. Meanwhile the generals of Valens
neglected to maintain the defences of the Danube, and a large body of
Ostrogoths who had been refused a passage over the river, took the
matter into their own hands, and crossed over into the province. The
two branches of the nation were not long in coming to an understanding,
and making common cause against their oppressors. It was not long
before the smouldering fire burst into flame. The first battle took
place not far from Pravadi,[49] where Claudius had defeated the Goths
many years before. We know little about this conflict except its
result, which, as the historian of the Goths (or, as he calls them,
Getæ) puts it, was to bring about a state of things in which the Goths
were no longer strangers and foreigners, but members of the State and
lords of the country which they occupied. An indecisive engagement
followed at a spot called _Salices_ ("The Willows") in the low land
near the mouth of the Danube, but the great battle of the war was
fought at Hadrianople. Valens, who had spent a considerable time, with
little profit to the Empire, at Antioch, returned in the early summer
of 378 A.D. to Constantinople. After a brief rest in that city, where
he made some changes in the chief commands of his army, he marched
northwards and fortified a camp under the walls of Hadrianople. It
was debated between the Emperor and his chief advisers whether or no
they should fight at once. There were many reasons for delay. Valens
occupied a strong position, and had the command of unlimited supplies.
The barbarians, on the other hand, were ill-provided in every respect,
and would most certainly grow weaker the longer they were compelled to
keep the field. Another powerful consideration was, or should have
been, the approach of Gratian, Emperor of the West, to whom Valens
had appealed for help, and who was now advancing eastward by forced
marches. Gratian had, indeed, sent a special messenger imploring Valens
not to risk a battle before his arrival. Unfortunately this request had
an effect exactly opposed to what had been intended. Valens was anxious
to secure for himself all the glory which would come from the victory
which he confidently expected, and when Gratian begged for delay, he at
once resolved to fight.
It was the height of summer, and Valens was scarcely acting with
judgment when he moved out of his position under the walls of
Hadrianople, and commenced a march which could not be expected to be
accomplished under four hours--the distance to be traversed was ten
miles--with the intention of attacking the enemy. In any case the men
would have been not a little wearied or exhausted; as it was, one wing
of the army considerably out-marched the other, and that which had
lagged behind was forced to hurry that it might take its proper place
in the line. Even after this time was wasted, for Valens was amused
with proposals for a truce or cessation of arms which the enemy had
no intention of acting on. One of the imperial generals, possibly
impatient of the delay, made an attack which was easily repulsed. The
Gothic cavalry, in reply, charged with fatal effect. The Roman horsemen
fled before them, and the legions, left alone in an open plain to face
an enemy superior in force, were practically destroyed. The fate of
Valens is uncertain; but the more generally received account was that,
having been severely wounded, he was carried off the field to a cottage
in the neighbourhood. Before any way of escape could be discovered,
before even his wound could be dressed, the cottage was surrounded by
the enemy. The inmates did their best to defend it, and the Goths,
impatient of delay, set fire to it and burnt it to the ground. Valens,
anyhow, was never seen again. The army of Rome was swept from the earth
at Hadrianople as completely as it had been at Cannæ, but Rome had lost
in the five centuries that separated these two great disasters her
power of recovery.
The next great blow received by Rome came also from Gothic hands. The
first mention of Alaric shows us a significant change in Roman policy.
The Gothic chief holds a high command in the armies of the Empire,
and was employed by the ruler in possession in his struggle against a
pretender. When he turned against his employer it was because he was
disappointed in his ambition of filling a yet higher post. There is no
need to describe his career at length. A brief outline shows plainly
enough, not only his genius, for he was certainly a statesman and a
soldier of great ability, but the deplorable weakness of the Empire.
At first, indeed, he had an antagonist who was more than his match. In
396 he openly revolted, and marched into Greece, which he plundered
without meeting with any resistance, for the country had long since
passed into a condition of helpless servitude. But he was pursued by
Stilicho, himself a barbarian by birth--a soldier who was equal to any
of the great commanders of the past. The Goths found themselves shut
up in the Peloponnesus. Their leader, however, contrived to extricate
himself from his difficulties, transporting his army across the western
end of the Gulf of Corinth, and occupying Epirus. The next thing in his
extraordinary career was that he was appointed by the Emperor of the
East--the Eastern and Western Empires had been finally severed four
years before[50]--to be the Governor of the province of Illyricum. Here
he was able to plan and prepare his schemes for the final conquest of
Rome. That the opportunity for so doing should have been given by the
power that should have been Rome's closest ally was a sure sign of the
approaching ruin.
A few years after his establishment in Illyricum, Alaric, who had
been in the meantime saluted king by his countrymen, felt himself
equal to the task of invading Italy. Stilicho, however, was still in
command of the Roman armies--now almost wholly recruited from barbarian
tribes--and he proved himself more than a match for the Gothic king.
The great battle of Pollentia (in Northern Italy) was contested with
more than usual stubbornness. Fortune changed sides more than once.
Stilicho's genius prevailed, however, in the end; the Goths were driven
from the field; their camp was taken, and Alaric's wife fell into the
hands of the conquerors. But the great leader was not yet beaten. His
cavalry, the principal strength of his forces, had not been broken,
and he formed the bold scheme of marching upon Rome. This, however,
was given up; he accepted, in preference, the offer of Stilicho, who
proposed to allow him to depart unharmed from Italy, on condition of
his becoming for the future an ally of Rome. He did not, however,
intend to perform his part of the bargain. On the contrary, he formed
a scheme for possessing himself of Gaul. But his plans were betrayed
to Stilicho, and he suffered another defeat in the neighbourhood of
Verona which was not less disastrous than that of Pollentia. Even then,
however, he was a formidable enemy, and Stilicho allowed him to retire
from Italy, rather than drive him to extremities.
After four years, years of incessant drain upon the resources of the
Empire, Alaric prepared to renew his attempt on Rome. Stilicho was
dead. Possibly he had deserved his fate, for he had certainly cherished
ambitions which did not become a loyal subject. But there was no one to
take his place at the head of the legions. Certainly Alaric met with
no opposition as he marched through Italy, finally pitching his camp
under the walls of Rome. Resistance was impossible; it only remained
to see what was the smallest price at which the enemy could be bought
off. Two envoys from the Senate approached the king. They began by
counselling prudence. It would be well, they said, if Alaric did not
drive a brave and numerous people to despair. "The thicker the hay,
the easier to mow," was the king's answer. When asked to name the
ransom which he was willing to accept, he declared that he must have
all the gold and silver that they possessed, all their valuables, and
all the slaves of barbarian birth. "What then do you leave us?" was
the question which the envoys in their consternation put to him. "Your
lives," he answered. In the end, however, he consented to a compromise,
by which he was to receive five thousand pounds of gold, thirty
thousand pounds of silver, and a quantity of precious articles, silk,
cloth, and spices.
The respite thus purchased was but brief. The ministers of the Emperor,
safe themselves in the fortress of Ravenna, behaved with a strange
mixture of weakness and treachery. Their crowning act of folly was to
permit a barbarian chief in their pay to make an unprovoked attack on
a detachment of Goths. This was indeed destroyed, but the victory was
dearly purchased. Alaric, justly indignant at such behaviour, broke
off all negotiations, and marched on Rome. The Senate prepared to make
all the resistance possible. But nothing was really done. Some traitors
within the city opened one of the gates, and the Goths made their way
into the city, which was given over to slaughter and plunder for six
days. Rome may be said to have thus lost for ever her claim to rule the
world. But her cup of humiliation was not yet full.
Alaric did not long survive the conquest of Rome. He died in the same
year, and was buried--so, indeed, the story runs--in the channel of
a stream whose waters had been diverted for the time, the labourers
who performed the work being slaughtered to keep the secret of his
resting-place from being ever divulged.
But Rome was to fall into the power of a conqueror yet more powerful
and more ferocious. Attila was a Hun, and is said to have even
exaggerated in his personal appearance all the characteristic
deformities of his race. The boundaries of the Empire can hardly be
defined, but it is certain that it was of enormous extent. It is
scarcely an exaggeration to say that it reached from China to the
Rhine. The hosts that followed him were almost beyond counting. For
once the incredible numbers in which the historians of antiquity
delight were no exaggeration. It is probably a modest estimate of his
host to say that it consisted of half a million combatants.
[Illustration: Attila and Leo.]
Powerful as he was, the king of the Huns was not permitted to pursue
his course without opposition. Rome could still produce or rather adopt
great soldiers--Aëtius, the great antagonist of Attila, was a Scythian
by birth as Stilicho was a Vandal--and great soldiers can always find
men to follow them. In the earlier part of Attila's reign,[51] his
operations were carried on within the limits of the Eastern Empire. In
450 he attacked the West, one of his pretexts being the refusal of the
Emperor Valentinian III. of his proposals for the hand of the Princess
Honoria. He crossed the Rhine with a huge army at Strasburg, and
marched on Orleans. But Aëtius was prepared for him. A great battle was
fought at Châlons-sur-Marne, the last successful effort of the Roman
arms. One of the notable features of the battle is the division of the
Goths, the Ostrogoths following the standard of Attila, while the
Visigoths fought for Rome. The loss of men amounted to between two and
three hundred thousand, but it was not unequally divided. Aëtius could
not prevent the retreat of Attila, who retired into Eastern Europe,
where he spent some months in recruiting his army.
Early in the following year he crossed the Alps, descended into Italy,
and after capturing and totally destroying the city of Aquileia,
marched Romewards. He never reached the city, indeed. Not far from
Mantua he was met by three ambassadors, one of them the bishop of
Rome known as Leo the Great. They brought the offer of a complete
submission. The Emperor no longer refused the condition which he had
before peremptorily rejected. The Hunnish king was to have the hand of
the Princess Honoria, and with her, as Gibbon epigrammatically puts it,
"an immense ransom or dowry." The marriage never took place, for Attila
died in the following year, but he had inflicted on Rome a humiliation
even greater than that which she had suffered at the hand of Alaric.
One more event I must record, because in a way it completes this great
period of history. In 475 a youth who bore the name of Romulus and the
nickname of Augustulus was raised to the throne by his father Orestes,
who secured for a time control of such armies as still obeyed the
Empire. In the following year Orestes was defeated and slain, and his
son permitted to abdicate. Italy passed into the hands of Odoacer, king
of the Heruli. The Old World had passed away and the New had begun.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 49: See p. 349.]
[Footnote 50: When the Emperor Theodosius died (394 A.D.) his two
sons Honorius and Arcadius became emperors of the West and East
respectively.]
[Footnote 51: He succeeded to the throne in 434 in partnership with his
brother, and by this brother's death, or murder, as some said, became
the ruler of the nation in 445.]
EPILOGUE
I take it for granted that none of my readers doubt the existence of
a definite purpose--some may prefer to call it a tendency--in human
history. Writers on this subject have often been accused of dwelling
too much on war. But war is the ultimate expression of human will,
and war, with all its horrors and losses, has worked, we are glad to
believe, for the general good. The fittest among the nations have
survived. We cannot estimate the loss which mankind would have suffered
if the great military monarchies of the East had crushed out of
existence the insignificant tribe which was to be the world's teacher
in righteousness. Something of the same kind may be seen in what is
called secular history.
Greece struggled bravely, against what must have seemed almost hopeless
odds, to preserve herself from Persian domination. If the eleven
thousand "Men of Marathon" had been trodden under foot by the hosts
of Persia, the Athens of the fifth century, with its free political
life and unrivalled intellectual development, would not have existed.
A sterile despotism, without literature or art, would have taken its
place, and the world would have been incalculably the poorer for the
exchange.
What is true of the struggle between Greece and Persia is true also of
the great conflict, lasting for more than two centuries, in which the
Sicilian Greeks, with now and then a little help from the motherland,
held their own against Carthage. Persia and Carthage, though differing
much from each other, were equally hostile to the essential principles
of Western civilisation.
Little need be said as to the issue of the wars between Rome and
Carthage. Rome, indeed, took up the cause for which Greece had
contended. It is impossible to conceive a Carthaginian Empire
exercising a worldwide sway with anything like the beneficial results
for which the world has to thank the dominion of Rome. Carthaginian
politics and morals, as far as we have any knowledge of them, seem to
have been narrow and inhuman.