Fun with the Huns
Catching up with Stilicho and Alaric
This is part three of a multi-part series. If you’re wondering why the hell you’re getting a post containing a very confused and probably inaccurate history of the 300-400 ADs, read part one.
Honorius cut a deal with Constantine III, making them co-emperors. That didn’t last long. Just as he was hatching that deal, yet another usurper arrived on the scene, Maximus of Hispania. Just as Constantine III was getting a handle on one front, a whole new enemy popped up on one of his flanks. His preoccupation with campaigning through Gaul and Italy cost him Britain. Having taken most of his soldiers with him to support his imperial claim, the Romans of Britain—whom he was meant to be protecting—were easy pickings for Saxon pirates. The abandoned Romans reacted by rebelling against Constantine III, depriving him of his original base of power.
In the end, there were simply too many enemies from too many directions, including that of Raveena, where his co-emperor Honorius had found an able general in the form of Constantius III (not to be confused with Constantine III) with whom Constantine III would do battle. Constantius III took advantage of the fact that the armies of Constantine III and Maximus had been beating one another bloody. He swooped in and tied the whole thing up. Constantine III was beheaded. Maximus faded into the background, taking advantage, no doubt, of the fact that there were so many competing emperors and invading barbarians that he could just sort of slip out the back door and blend in with the crowd.
Stilicho had been replaced by a man named Olympius who possessed a rabid anti-Germanic streak. Under his stewardship, there was a series of pogroms across Western Rome. Germanic citizens and soldiers were massacred. Those who escaped the terror found their way to good ol’ Alaric. Enough was enough for the endlessly put-upon Visigoth king. While Honorius was busy with the dozen or so usurpers plaguing the empire, Alaric mounted a campaign that met with such weak resistance throughout northern Europe that historians have referred to it as being “festive.”
In late 408, Alaric and the gang arrived outside of Rome. Trapped inside the city at the time was a woman named Serena—the wife, it happened, of Stilicho (currently in Alaric’s “buddy” column). She was denounced without evidence as a spy and saboteur and strangled to death—because what you really wanted to do was give Alaric one more thing to be pissed off about. He laid siege. Under siege, Rome became a filthy hellhole. Food was scarce. Bodies lie rotting in the street. Despite the enshrinement of Christianity as the state religion, panicked citizens turned to old Pagan rituals—anything, no matter how bizarre, to help break the siege.
In the end, it wasn’t the Christian god or the Pagan that broke the siege. It was tribute. Alaric might have asked a paltry sum back in the day to go to war against Constantine III, but this time he made Rome pay dearly. Aside from a wealth of gold, silver, and raw materials, he got a bunch of newly freed slaves, many of them one-time members of Radagaisus’ invasion force (remember that guy?), who were happy to pick up a sword and wave it in Rome’s stupid face. Satisfied with the payment, Alaric broke off the siege in December of 408—and he was never a problem again.
Until January of 409.
Anti-Alaric sentiments were flamed by that dastardly Olympius. Rather than take the opportunity to forge a more stable peace with Alaric, Honorius massed what he called an army—about 6,000 men—and sent them to Rome in preparation for poking Alaric with a sharp stick yet again. Instead of reaching Rome, however, the army, under the command of a man named Valens (no relation to Valens), ran headlong into Alaric’s host, which numbered as many as 40,000. Around 100 of Valens’ original 6,000 made it to Rome.
After that catastrophe, the Pope himself, Innocent I, was pleading with Honorius to give it a rest and make good with Alaric, especially since word on the street was that Alaric’s brother, Ataulf, had a Gothic horde of his own and was about to link up with his bro. Alas, not even the Pope could sway Honorius and Olympius from their obsession with putting down Alaric. Olympius led a force, partially composed of Hun mercenaries, to intercept Ataulf. That didn’t work out.
Oh yeah. What about the Huns?
In 409, another group of Huns—there was no centralized governing body as far as can be told from historical records—set their sights on Rome. Led by Uldin, who had helped Stilicho defend the empire against Radagaisus, they raided around until Rome slid enough bribes the way of his underlings to undermine the campaign. Other groups of Hun raiders in Roman territory found themselves fighting Roman-commanded legions of Hun mercenaries, making the whole thing about as confusing as trying to force a layer of actual history onto the plot of a sword and sandal film, which is how this whole history lesson began and which we have yet to ge anywhere near reviewing.
And then came Attila, but let’s hold off on him for a while.
After failing to stop the union of Ataulf and Alaric’s Gothic armies, the disgraced Olympius fell from power, replaced by a man named Jovius. Jovial Jovius had no beef with Alaric and had even been friends with Alaric’s frenemy, Stilicho. He began negotiations with Alaric but found his progress stymied by Emperor Honorius, who was still hellbent on waging war with the Goths. When Alaric heard that Honorius had mustered an army that included 10,000 Huns, he modified his demands. Hopeful that this new deal would be acceptable, Jovius communicated it to Honorius only to discover that no deal, however modest, was going to stop Rome from going to war. So with a sigh, Jovius swore his oath to Honorius, and Rome went to war—without, it turned out, those 10,000 Huns.
Or rather, war went to Rome. Before Honorius was able to muster any sort of army, Alaric besieged Rome again. This time, Romans themselves parlayed with the Visigoths, not relishing another bout of famine and disease in the name of an emperor far away in Ravenna. Jovius was dispatched to see what this business was all about but upon arrival decided to throw his lot in with Alaric and the Romans, because seriously, fuck Honorius. Alaric appointed a senator named Priscus Attalus as the new emperor because what Western Rome really needed during this time was one more emperor.
Attalus was more worried about northern Africa than northern Italy. Most of Rome’s supplies came from northern Africa, where the governor was loyal to Honorius and threatening to plunge Rome into famine despite the pact with Alaric. A force was dispatched to grapple with that situation while Alaric led a second force toward Ravenna. At this turn of events, Honorius was suddenly much keener on peace, but Attalus wasn’t having any of it unless it meant, among other things, Honorius being stripped of his imperial title and exiled. Jovius, apparently one to carry a grudge, also piped up and demanded that Honorius be mutilated, but Attalus hushed him on that one.
Things were looking bad for Honorius, even if he wasn’t going to be mutilated. He decided the best course of action was to follow in the footsteps of Valentinian II, east toward the relative safety of Constantinople. But when he opened his door to flee, who was raising their hand to knock on it at that precise moment but 4,000 willing and able soldiers from the East, there to support Honorius in his struggle. It’s almost like, who in the West remembered there was an Eastern Roman Empire? Even Alaric seemed to have forgotten about them, leaving them to fight an occasional skirmish with some Huns but otherwise unmolested during this tumultuous period in the West.
Emboldened by the arrival of this fresh fighting force and by the defeat of Attalus in North Africa, Honorius rediscovered his fighting spirit. Hoping to avoid famine in Rome, Alaric prepared to send a force south to deal with this Heraclian fellow in North Africa. Disappointingly for the battle-hungry Alaric, Priscus Attalus forbade this excursion, fearing what might transpire if the Goths got themselves a foothold in fertile Africa, upon which so much of the Roman empire depended. Alaric and Jovius, tired of their puppet emperor trying to act like an actual emperor, stripped Priscus Attalus of his power.
In the summer of 410, Alaric and Honorius thought they’d give negotiation one more go. At this point, although twice besieged and even controlled, the city of Rome had not technically been conquered and occupied. “Peace” negotiations with Honorius were about to change that. A meeting was arranged twelve miles outside of Ravenna. When Alaric arrived, instead of Honorius and a negotiating party waiting for him, he was ambushed by an old enemy: Sarus, who had led the Gothic contingent alongside Stilicho and the Vandals and Uldin and the Huns back when Radagaisus was still a thing.
Although Sarus had been allied with Stilicho, and Stilicho had been allied with Alaric, remember also that Stilicho had at one time been an enemy of Alaric. And if his former ally Stilicho had found himself on the wrong side of Honorius, what the hell did Sarus care? He wasn’t that close to Stilicho, and the man he really hated was Alaric’s brother, Ataulf. And maybe also Alaric, who Sarus might have hated because maybe Sarus was thinking he’d become king of the Visigoths, but then there was Alaric. If there is one takeaway to be had from the history of the world, it’s that eventually all alliances make no goddamn sense.
Unfortunately for Honorius, Alaric survived the ambush. By this point, the Visigoth king had reached maximum “this fuckin’ guy!” with Honorius. He returned to Rome, but this time he did not stop at the front door. On August 24, 410, the Visigoths entered the city. Three days of mayhem, pillaging, and violence ensued. For the Visigoths, it was just due for years of being yanked around by Honorius. For the citizens of Rome, it was a nightmare not of their own making. After all, they’d been willing to play ball with Alaric. But that didn’t factor into the coming days. Historical buildings were ransacked, tombs desecrated, and valuables carried off. Romans were enslaved, raped, or put to the sword. The Emperor’s own sister, Galla, was captured and held hostage. It was a calamity the likes of which had not befallen the city in 800 years, even if it was restrained by the standards of other ancient world pillagings. Roman commoners, for example, were not in as much danger from the Goths as wealthy Roman citizens. Buildings, although stripped of valuables, were generally left standing.
Still, thousands of refugees streamed out of the city and toward provinces in Africa, where they were met at the docks (so to speak) by a vengeful Heraclian, his dust-up with the deposed puppet emperor Attalus still fresh on his mind. Ever magnanimous, Heraclian found work for the refugees—mostly as slaves and prostitutes.
Three days later, the Visigoths stampeded out of Rome and headed south, pillaging along the way. Alaric’s mind was set on Sicily and, after that, Africa and that asshole Heraclian. He had learned by now that the man who controls Africa, controls Italy. But Alaric would never see African soil. A storm wreaked havoc with his armada.
And then, just like that, Alaric was dead.
Like Alexander the Great before him, Alaric—who had lived such a bold life, full of warfare and adventure—died of fever. His brother, Ataulf, was elected king, and Ataulf did not share Alaric’s appetite for African conquest. Instead, he turned his people toward Gaul. He married Galla in 414 and, in 415, Ataulf too was dead, murdered in the bath by a follower of Sarus—who himself died in a manner more befitting the lifestyle these men led. In 412, after a falling out between him and Honorius, one thing led to another, and that led to Sarus—as the legend goes—leading a doomed force into battle against Ataulf, who had 10,000 soldiers with him. Sarus had 28.
After the assassination of Ataulf, Sarus’ brother, Sigeric, was named king of the Visigoths. His reign lasted an epic seven days before he too was assassinated by Ataulf loyalists who regarded Sigeric as a usurper. Next came Wallia. By the end of his reign in 418, peace had been negotiated between the Visigoths and Honorius. Galla was returned to the Roman court, later to get married to Constantius III, who somehow was still out there. Wallia laid the groundwork for the Visigoth kingdom in Gaul, where the people would find fun new enemies in the form of the Vandals of Hispania.
Honorius died of edema in August of 423. He had neglected to name an heir. A man named Joannes was nominated Emperor, but that only lasted until Theodosius II, still chilling as Eastern Emperor back in Constantinople, elected Valentinian III, son of Galla Placidia and Constantius III, as Emperor. The long wars with the Visigoths were over, but the trouble had only just begun for the Western Roman Empire, which continued to unravel. In the East, things looked better—but peace was not in their future.
Not with a man named Attila standing on the other side of the Danube, gazing across at the riches of Constantinople.
Want more unfinished bits of history that proved too lengthy for the essays in which they initially appeared?
Unfinished Labors: Fragments from an abandoned book project about Hercules movies
The Pastry War: Or, Cinco de Mayo and the most French reason ever to invade a country