When Emperor Valens was informed by a messenger in ad 376 that the
Danube River, the eastern frontier of the Western Roman Empire, was
being threatened by swarms of Goths, it must have come as a shock. This
was not a normal invading force, but a whole nation on the move–refugees
with their families and possessions piled into wagons. These fearsome
warriors were themselves under attack, fleeing pell-mell from the
dreaded Huns, who had erupted out of Central Asia into the fertile lands
of Eastern Europe. The mighty Ostrogothic domain–lying between the
Dnieper and Don rivers, and stretching from the Black Sea to the
Baltic–had been swept aside, and in their retreat the Ostrogoths had
bumped into the Visigoths. This mass of Goths was now piling up against
the Danube, and since there were hardly enough legionaries available to
restrain them, the refugees were permitted to cross into the Western
Empire.
Despite the Western Roman Empire's
weakness, memories of past glories made the Roman authorities arrogant,
and instead of welcoming the newcomers as a valuable source of vigorous
manpower, they treated the still-powerful Goths badly. A quarrel between
a group of Roman soldiers and some Visigoth warriors sparked a revolt,
and for the next two years the Goths rampaged through Rome's Balkan
provinces. Attempts to pacify them came to nothing. In 378 Valens raised
an army to put down the uprising and marched out at its head. On August
9, however, the emperor and two-thirds of his army were killed outside
Adrianople, in a battle that heralded the eclipse of the traditional
foot soldier under the thundering hooves of Gothic cavalry.
Hardly
had the crisis of Adrianople passed when the new emperor, Theodosius
II, was welcomed into office with reports of savage horsemen ravaging
the heart of the territory south of the Black Sea. These were some of
the most prosperous lands within the empire and made tempting targets
for the Huns, who had appeared from east of the Caucasus and were
wreaking havoc among the Romans and their neighbors, the Persians. What
had been nothing more than a looting expedition finally withdrew,
unmolested and weighed down with prisoners and plunder.
For
the Romans, the hit-and-run tactics of the Hunnic armies, all of them
mounted, was a shock. They seemed to appear everywhere at once thanks to
their unparalleled speed of movement. Such mobility gave rise to
reports of enormous numbers of these horsemen, usually exaggerated. By
ad 400, the ranks of the Huns north of the Black Sea had swelled to such
proportions that they began to overflow into the spacious plains of
Pannonia (now Hungary) in a torrent of violence and warfare. The various
Germanic tribes living there were swept aside, either absorbed into the
Hunnic empire as vassals, as were the Gepids, or falling back against
the imperial Roman borders. One group, the Vandals, tried to invade
Italy, but after being barred by Roman armies they moved on to the west.
Sweeping through Iberia, they were finally able to cross the Strait of
Gibraltar. By 431 some of Rome's richest provinces in Africa were
virtually independent, and the Vandals' chieftain, Gaiseric, had
captured Carthage and set up a kingdom for himself. From there he would
launch piratical raids against Mediterranean shipping, seizing Sicily in
440 and finally sacking Rome itself in 455. Other major groups, the
Franks and Burgundians, drove into Gaul, where they were allowed to
settle by Roman authorities who had no way of ejecting them.
Foreseeing
the Hunnic threat and entering Roman territory ahead of the other
Germanic tribes were the Visigoths, under their King Alaric. He swept
into Italy, and in 410 he entered the ancient capital of Rome itself,
exposing the Western Roman Empire as a spent force, teetering on its
feet as it waited for the knockout blow that would end its 1,000-year
mastery over the Western world.
Prior to the raid
that followed the Battle of Adrianople, the Romans had had little direct
contact with the Huns. Ironically, Hunnic mercenaries had fought in the
Roman armies that tried to resist the Gothic invasions. These in turn
were brought about by pressure from the expanding Hunnic empire. In 408 a
small raiding party of Huns swept through Thrace on a pillaging
expedition, and although they soon withdrew, the threat was all too
apparent. The walls of Constantinople were strengthened. At the same
time, the Roman army was evolving into a very different form from the
army that had been so severely mauled at Adrianople 30 years earlier.
The foot soldier as the key military arm was being increasingly
supplemented by mounted troops to counter the new enemies of the 5th
century.
Upon their arrival in Pannonia, the Huns
began to mingle with those Germans who had remained, mainly Gepids and
Ostrogoths. Cities of Hunnic tents began to spring up as the steppe
nomad blended into the more settled, pastoral Gothic lifestyle. The
Hunnic empire swelled until it soon reached from the Rhine and Danube
frontiers to the Baltic Sea in the north and the great plains of Russia
in the east.
Now the time had come for the showdown
between the avaricious Huns and the crippled Roman Empire. In terms of
available manpower, Rome's resources far outstripped those available to
the Huns. However, the Huns had the advantage of speed of maneuver and
the ability to attack at any chosen spot. They also refused to accept
battle other than on terms favorable to themselves. As a result, the
Romans had little answer to the Hunnic incursions. From 420 a Hunnic
dynasty had begun to emerge, led first by a chieftain known as Oktar,
who began to weld the disparate Hunnic tribes into a cohesive whole with
a common purpose. Oktar was succeeded by his brother Rua, after whose
death the tribes fell under the joint rule of his two nephews, Attila
and Bleda. Bleda, a simple fellow, was soon murdered by the scheming
Attila, who then emerged as the unchallenged lord of the Huns.
The
Roman historian Renatus Profuturus Frigeridus described Attila as
follows: 'Of middle height, he was manly in appearance and well made,
neither too frail nor too heavy; he was quick of wit and agile of limb, a
very practiced horseman and a skilful archer, he was indefatigable with
the spear. A born warrior, he was renowned for the arts of peace,
without avarice and little swayed by desire, endowed with the gifts of
the mind, not swerving from his purpose for any kind of evil
instigation. He bore wrongs with the utmost patience and loved labor.
Undaunted by danger, he was excelled by none in the endurance of hunger,
thirst and vigil.'
According to contemporary
historians, Attila himself was not greedy for plunder. In fact his
tastes were simple. Even at the height of his power, when Roman
emissaries came to him to plead for peace, he still imbibed from a
simple wooden drinking bowl, as might the lowliest of his followers. His
passion for power, however, required him to provide for the wants of
those who would follow him. And the Hunnic warrior's motivation was
plunder. So long as Attila could supply that, he would have the loyalty
of the entire Hunnic nation. With that in mind, from the moment he came
to power, Attila's energies were directed at extracting as much booty as
possible from the still wealthy provinces of the Roman Empire.
The
Huns' first major raid under Attila was launched across the Danube in
440 against the Eastern Empire. Whether by coincidence or design, it
coincided with the Vandals' siege of Carthage. Roman troops that had
been dispatched to forestall the Carthage threat had to be recalled by
Emperor Theodosius to defend the capital. As a result, Carthage and
Africa were lost. Attila's warriors sacked Belgrade and numerous other
centers–70 according to historian Edward Gibbon–defeating Roman armies
three times in succession and penetrating as far as the outskirts of
Constantinople itself. Thrace and Macedonia were ravaged, but in spite
of an earthquake that leveled part of its mighty land walls, the Eastern
capital itself was left untouched.
For now, the
Huns settled for returning to the Pannonian plains with thousands of
captives and wagonloads of booty. Theodosius was forced to sue for peace
on unfavorable terms, but they were not all fulfilled by the Romans,
giving Attila an excuse to launch a second raid in 442. Once again
cities were sacked and Roman armies defeated, and again Constantinople
was only saved by its impenetrable walls. The victorious Huns withdrew
once more, weighed down with plunder.
In keeping
with his policy of preserving his followers' loyalty through pillage,
Attila launched a third raid in 447, with the same results as the
previous two. To make matters worse, the entire region was hit by a
massive earthquake (a natural disaster repeated in 1999). Previously
impregnable walls were leveled, and the cities they protected were
sacked by Attila's hordes. Constantinople was only saved by the efforts
of every able-bodied citizen to rebuild its damaged walls. To buy time
for that operation to be completed, another Roman army marched forth to
face the seemingly invincible Huns along the Vid River. Although the
Romans suffered another defeat, they had learned enough of Hunnic
warfare by then to manage to inflict massive losses on the men from the
steppes. The battle broke the back of the Hunnic effort, and after
looting as far south as Greece, the invasion petered out.
For
the Eastern Empire, this was a critical time. Constantinople's armies
were gone, its treasury empty and its source of revenue–taxes–dried up
by the devastation of the Hunnic raids. In 449 a delegation set out from
Rome to sue for a lasting treaty with the seminomadic barbarian
warriors of Pannonia. Attila was surprisingly accommodating, and in
return for a huge cash payment he agreed to desist from further raids on
the Eastern Empire. The shrewd warrior realized that the East was now
exhausted, with little prospect left for plunder in the near future. The
peace would leave him with a secure rear for his next project–an
invasion of the virtually untouched Western Roman Empire.
In
the West, the patrician Flavius Aetius was trying to hold a crumbling
empire together, with the child emperor Valentinian III and his mother
and regent, Aelia Galla Placidia, serving mostly as figureheads.
Recent
wars between Aetius and Theodoric the Visigoth, his theoretical vassal
who had been allowed to settle within the empire, gave Attila confidence
that the Western Empire's strength would be drained and unable to
resist his onslaught. In addition, he was sure that rather than unite
with Aetius, Theodoric would use the opportunity of Attila's invasion to
assert his own independence. And so the Hunnic leader confidently
crossed the Rhine into Gaul with a host consisting of not only Huns but
also numerous German subjects, including Ostrogoths, Gepids, Franks,
Rugians, Sciri, Burgundians and Thuringians. Advancing in three columns
through modern-day Belgium, the Huns spread terror and destruction. Town
after town was destroyed, including Metz, Cambrai, Strasbourg, Rheims,
Amiens and Worms. Paris was saved only because the Huns considered it
too small to be worth the trouble of a siege.
All
the while, Aetius was marching to intercept Attila. In spite of Aetius'
entreaties, Theodoric at first refused to commit himself to an alliance
against the Huns, just as Attila predicted. Eventually, however, he
decided that the threat of Hunnic devastation was more serious than that
of Roman domination, and summoning his warriors, he set out north to
join Aetius.
Another barbarian tribe that Aetius
had allowed to settle in the empire, the Alans, was settled around the
town of Orlans, but they and their king, Sangiban, were of doubtful
loyalty. As it transpired, it was at Orlans that the Hunnic host
converged and also where Aetius and Theodoric met up. The allies arrived
just in time to prevent Sangiban from opening the city's gates to admit
Attila. The Huns were already in the suburbs when Aetius arrived.
Without hesitation the Romans fell on the scattered Huns, inflicting
heavy casualties in the town, where the mounted Huns were at a severe
disadvantage. As night fell, Attila withdrew his forces, heading east
for the more open terrain around Châlons, which better suited his style
of fighting. The Romans and Visigoths followed the retreating Huns
closely, overtaking and annihilating their rear guard.
By that
stage, with his warriors heavily laden with plunder, Attila would have
been content to withdraw to Pannonia. Aetius, however, was determined to
bring him to battle. The place chosen by the Huns to turn and fight was
known as the Catalaunian Plains. Historians disagree on the exact site
of the battle, but it is generally believed to lie somewhere between
Troyes and Châlons. The terrain there was a virtually flat, featureless
open plain, the only landmark being a hill that dominated Attila's left
flank.
Aetius and Theodoric drew up their army
first, Attila remaining in his laager of wagons. Aetius deployed
Sangiban and his Alans in the center, where both he and Theodoric could
ensure that he stayed loyal. Theodoric and his Visigoths deployed on the
right, with Theodoric commanding the main Gothic force, and his son
Thorismund leading a smaller contingent on the extreme right opposite
the hill. Aetius took the left with a mixed force of Romans and Germans.
Attila was slow to emerge from his wagons, only doing so after midday. A
fight rapidly developed for the hill, with Thorismund contesting the
position against a detachment of Huns. Attila placed himself in the
center of the army, deploying his Gepids on his right. The Ostrogoths
under Walamir, together with various other German tribesmen, were
deployed on his left.
In the fierce preliminary
battle for the hill, both sides took heavy casualties, but Thorismund's
heavily armored cavalry finally prevailed and took possession of that
key terrain feature. By then the main lines had closed. Details of the
battle's progress are unclear, but Attila seems to have swiftly
overwhelmed the Alans in the center, driving them off the field. That
left Theodoric's Visigoths in a very exposed position, with Walamir's
Ostrogoths to their front and Attila's victorious Huns attacking their
left flank. There was a moment of panic in the Visigoth line, but
Theodoric quickly checked it. Potential disaster struck soon afterward
when, in the thick of the fight, the old Visigoth king was knocked off
his horse and crushed under thousands of flying hooves. Far from causing
his followers to lose heart, however, Theodoric's death seemed to
inspire them. They held off the Huns and pushed the Ostrogoths back.
None
of the sources mention the progress of fighting on Aetius' flank. Quite
possibly he was anxious to preserve the only existing Roman army and
refused to commit his legionaries against the outnumbered Gepids to his
front. It is also likely that the Romans, who had been hastily
assembled, were of doubtful quality, and Aetius was nervous about
committing them to a fight. Whatever the facts, they had little impact
on the battle's outcome.
Back on the right of the
allies' line, the Visigoth–Ostrogoth fight continued. Then Thorismund,
having regrouped his forces on the hill, launched a decisive charge into
the flank of the Hunnic army, and the Ostrogoths fled. The mobile Huns
managed to extricate themselves, and Attila, realizing that the battle
was lost, quickly withdrew into his wagon laager as night fell.
The
following dawn revealed the ferocity of the conflict and Attila's
precarious situation. Eyewitnesses reported thousands of bodies piled up
across the plain. Attila's army was besieged within its camp, with no
prospect of succor or escape, and it seemed as if the allies needed only
to sit and wait for his surrender. But this proud Hun warrior would
never yield. He prepared an enormous funeral pyre for himself should
capture be inevitable.
Aetius the general had won
the battle. Now Aetius the consummate politician emerged to exploit the
victory. Still fearing the strength of the Visigoths within the empire,
he was concerned lest a total defeat of the Huns would see Visigoth
power swell. Anxious to preserve some sort of balance of power, he
decided to let Attila withdraw. Thorismund, now king of the Visigoths,
opposed that plan, but the wily Aetius convinced the young monarch of a
pressing need for him to return to Toulouse to consolidate his position
against his jealous brothers. The Visigoths withdrew from the Châlons
battlefield, and Attila was allowed to slink back over the Rhine,
defeated and humiliated, but with his power still intact.
The
Battle of Châlons has often been described as critical in the history
of the Western world in that it saw the old Rome and the new Gothic
people, both settled cultures, defeat the raiding nomads of Central
Asia, thereby saving Western Europe from Hunnic domination. Perhaps,
however, historians have given the battle too much stature. Attila had
defeated Roman armies repeatedly on each of his three invasions of the
Eastern Empire, leaving it virtually defenseless. But the Huns had never
stayed in the regions they devastated, unlike the Mongols who invaded
Europe 750 years later. They were not equipped to take large,
well-fortified cities, and their purpose was not conquest but rather
large-scale looting. There is no reason to think that the long-term
effect on Western Europe would have been any different had Attila
triumphed at Châlons. Certainly the West would have faced ravaging on a
larger scale than it previously had, but otherwise the Huns' stay would
have been relatively short. Possibly the Western Empire would have
collapsed a little earlier than it did, but as it was, Rome's period of
influence had already waned–the last Western Roman emperor would be
deposed within 25 years of the battle.
Attila
utilized the strength Aetius' lenient terms left him to invade the
Western Empire again only a year after Châlons. This time the Huns
crossed the Alps to ravage northwest Italy, including the cities of
Aquileia, Padua, Verona and Mediolanum (Milan). Powerless to stop Attila
at that time, Aetius sent a famous deputation headed by Pope Leo I (the
Great) that met the Hunnic leader at Mantua. Legend has it that the
mighty Attila was turned back by the sheer aura surrounding the pope as
God's earthly representative. More likely, perhaps, Attila's army was
already laden with booty and had also suffered heavy losses to disease.
Whatever the real reason, Attila accepted Aetius' terms as presented by
the pope and so ended the last Hunnic invasion of Rome's disintegrating
empire.
Within a year Attila was dying of a nasal
hemorrage in the arms of his new and very young wife. His empire did not
long outlive him. As his sons quarreled over the spoils, their German
subjects rose up in revolt against their divided, weakened erstwhile
overlords and defeated them over the next several years. Driven from the
Pannonian plains, the Huns receded into the vast spaces of Central Asia
from which they had emerged.
This article was written by Richard Gordon and originally published in the December 2003 issue of Military History
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