How Rome Fell: Death of a Superpower Read online

  HOW ROME FELL

  HOW ROME

  FELL

  Death of a Superpower

  Adrian Goldsworthy

  Contents

  List of Maps Vii

  List of Illustrations ix

  Preface I

  Introduction - The Big Question 11

  PART ONE - Crisis? The Third Century 27

  I The Kingdom of Gold 29

  2 The Secret of Empire 53

  3 Imperial Women 70

  4 King of Kings 86

  5 Barbarians 103

  6 The Queen and the `Necessary' Emperor 123

  7 Crisis 138

  PART TWO - Recovery? The Fourth Century 155

  8 The Four - Diocletian and the Tetrarchy 157

  9 The Christian 174

  io Rivals 194

  ii Enemies 205

  12 The Pagan 223

  13 Goths 245

  14 East and West 264

  PART THREE - Fall? The Fifth and Sixth Centuries 283

  15 Barbarians and Romans: Generals and Rebels 285

  16 The Sister and the Eternal City 299

  17 The Hun 314

  18 Sunset on an Outpost of Empire 335

  19 Emperors, Kings and Warlords 353

  20 West and East 370

  21 Rise and Fall 388

  Conclusion - A Simple Answer 405

  Epilogue - An Even Simpler Moral 416

  Chronology 425

  Glossary 441

  Bibliography 449

  Notes 467

  Index 511

  List of Maps

  i. The Roman Empire in the late second century AD 30

  z. The Eastern frontier 9o

  3. The Third Century Crisis 112

  4. The fourth century Empire 166

  5. Julian's Persian Expedition 231

  6. The empire of Valentinian and Valens 239

  7. The Gothic War 2,56

  8. Alaric's movements including the sack of Rome 297

  9. The initial barbarian invasions in the fifth century 308

  io. The Balkan frontier 321

  ii. The Saxon Shore forts 342

  12. The Barbarian kingdoms in Gaul 357

  13. Europe and North Africa in the early sixth century 371

  14. Justinian's Empire showing the western conquests 395

  Charts:

  i. Family tree of Septimius Severus 72

  2. Simplified family tree of the house of Constantine 19o

  3. Simplified family tree of the houses of Valentinian and Theodosius 265

  4. Civil administration of provinces in the late fourth century 268

  5. Central imperial bureaueracy and court 269

  6. The command structure of the Roman Army in the Notitia Dignitatum 287

  List of Illustrations

  Bust of Marcus Aurelius (AKG Images/Erich Lessing)

  Bust of Septimius Severus (AKG Images/Erich Lessing)

  Bust of Caracalla (Ferens Art Gallery, Hull City Museums and Art Galleries/The Bridgeman Art Library)

  Statue of the Tetrarchs, Venice (AKG Images/Jean-Paul Dumontier)

  Amphitheatre at Dougga in Tunisia (Ancient Art and Architecture Collection)

  Regina tombstone (Ancient Art and Architecture Collection)

  Relief of Roman soldiers from Trajan's Column (Author's collection)

  Relief of Roman emperor kneeling before Shapur (Ancient Art and Architecture Collection)

  Collapsed wall at Dura Europos (Dr Simon James)

  Wall painting from Dura Europos (Dr Simon James)

  Palmyrene gods (AKG Images/Erich Lessing)

  Hadrian's Wall (Author's collection)

  Fort at Qasr Bashir (Sonia Halliday Photographs)

  Roman walls at Porchester castle (Author's collection)

  Senate House and Arch of Septimius Severus (Author's collection)

  Aurelian walls, Rome (AKG Images)

  Constantine coin (Bridgeman Art Library)

  Julian the Apostate (AKG Images)

  Detail from Arch of Constantine (Author's collection)

  Adamklissi Metope: Barbarians on the move (Author's collection)

  Roman gateway at Trier (AKG Images/Hilbich)

  Mosaic from Piazza Armerina, Sicily (AKG Images/Erich Lessing)

  Relief from obelisk base Hippodrome, Constantinople (Chris Hellier/ Corbis)

  Emperor Honorius (W&N Archive)

  Flavius Stilicho (W&N Archive)

  Page from the Notitia Dignitatum (Bodleian Library)

  Skull from Hunnic grave (AKG Images)

  Mausoleum at Ravenna (The Art Archive/Gianni Dagli Orti)

  Coin of Justinian (Fitzwilliam Museum, University of Cambridge/ Bridgeman Art Library)

  The walls of Constantinople (Bridgeman Art Library)

  Hagia Sophia (AKG Images/Erich Lessing)

  Mosaic of Justinian from Ravenna (AKG Images/Erich Lessing)

  The aqueduct at Segovia (Author's collection)

  Preface

  f people today know anything about the Roman Empire, it is that it fell. This is without doubt the best-known `fact' about Ancient Rome, just as Julius Caesar is the most famous Roman. Rome's fall is memorable because its empire lasted for so long - more than five hundred years after Caesar's death in Italy and the western provinces, and three times as long in the east, where emperors would rule from Constantinople until the fifteenth century. The Roman Empire was also exceptionally large - no other power has ever controlled all the lands around the Mediterranean - and left traces behind in many countries. Even today its monuments are spectacular - the Colosseum and Pantheon in Rome itself, as well as theatres, aqueducts, villas and roads dotted throughout the provinces. No other state would construct such a massive network of all-weather roads until the nineteenth century, and in many countries such systems would not be built until the twentieth century. The Roman Empire is often seen as very modern and highly sophisticated - glass in windows, central heating, bath houses and the like - especially by visitors to museums and monuments. This makes Rome's fall all the more remarkable, especially since the world that emerged from its ruin appears so primitive by contrast. The Dark Ages remain fixed in the popular mind, even if the term has long since been abandoned by scholars.

  Why Rome fell remains one of the great questions of history. In the English-speaking world `fall' is inevitably coupled with `decline', for the title of Edward Gibbon's monumental work has become firmly embedded in the wider consciousness. No other eighteenth-century history book has remained so regularly in print in various forms and editions until the present day. There have been plenty of other books written on the subject, and some have been more perceptive in their analysis, even if none has ever challenged The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire as one of the great works of English literature. In later life Gibbon liked to believe that it was his destiny to be an historian and to chronicle the great theme of Rome's fall. He claimed a specific moment of inspiration: `It was at Rome, on the fifteenth of October, 1764, as I sat musing amidst the ruins of the Capitol, while the barefooted fryars were singing Vespers in the temple of Jupiter, that the idea of writing the decline and fall of the City first started to my mind."

  Gibbon produced several versions of this story, creating the suspicion that he embellished or even invented the memory. On the other hand it is hard for any visitor with imagination not to think similar thoughts, for past and present seem very close beside the centre of Ancient Rome. The `barefooted fryars' are no longer so obvious, and have been replaced by the ubiquitous hawkers, switching instantly from offering sunglasses to umbrellas whenever the weather changes. Even the crowds of other tourists tramping along t
he Sacra Via help to give a sense of the bustle and noise of the ancient city, once every bit as busy and active as the modern city that now surrounds it.

  Rome is not only a museum, but also a vibrant community, the capital of a modern country and the centre of the worldwide Catholic Church. The reminders of ancient grandeur sit side by side with homes, offices and restaurants. Rome was never abandoned, although it shrank massively in population from the height of the empire in the centuries after its fall. A good number of other modern cities are also built on Roman foundations, something still visible in their grid-shaped street plans. Other Roman cities vanished altogether and those in desert areas produce some of the most romantic ruins visible today. When the Roman Empire fell, life did not simply stop in the lands it had controlled. The context of life certainly changed, sometimes dramatically and quickly, but in other cases much more gradually. As the specialists on the period have long since made clear, the Dark Ages were not wholly dark, although by any reasonable standard they were dark enough in comparison with the Roman period. Many things became more local, such as power and trade, and often the world was a more dangerous place, with raiding and warfare between nearby communities now a real possibility. Quite quickly there was no one with the money or skill to build great monuments such as theatres, aqueducts or roads. In time, it even became difficult to maintain the ones that already existed. Scholars are deeply divided about when, how and why the world changed from the Roman era to the basis of the medieval world that took shape in the following centuries. None doubt that the change occurred.

  Gibbon admired the achievements of the Roman Empire at its height, as did all educated Europeans in his day. This in no way reduced his enthusiasm for the modern world, and especially for the constitution of his own country, where the monarch's power was limited and guided by the aristocracy. Gibbon knew that his own country and its neighbours across the Channel all owed their origins to the various barbarian groups that had carved up the Roman Empire. Therefore, in time, good had come from chaos and destruction, and from his perspective the world - or at least the Western world - had in the long run developed along the right lines. This mixed attitude to Rome's fall remains a central part of its fascination. It serves as a warning of mortality. The emperors who built the great arches in the Forum all died like any other human being. Eventually their empire - so rich, so powerful, so sophisticated and so utterly self-confident - also came to an end, its monuments crumbling away into ruin.

  The imagery of Ancient Rome has frequently been invoked by more recent states for its associations with the ultimate heights both of power and civilisation. It is never long before talk also turns to Rome's fate. Insiders to the modern great power usually see this as a humbling reminder that everything passes, and perhaps as a warning against complacency and corruption. Outsiders, and especially those resentful of the power of others, tend to prefer the thin comfort of the belief that the current power will eventually fall. Many states have been compared to the Roman Empire. A century ago the most natural comparison would have been with Britain, and then perhaps with France or one of the other great empires of the age. Nowadays, it is inevitably with the United States of America.

  The form varies, as does the tone. In recent years the best-selling novelist Robert Harris has written about Roman themes, openly declaring that this was a way of commenting on modern America. The B B C also screened a television series hosted by the former Python Terry Jones called Barbarians, with the theme that the reputations of other nations had been blackened by Roman propaganda. It was highly entertaining stuff, even if the message was somewhat strained - the Greeks would certainly have been most surprised to be considered barbarians, since they were the ones who first coined the term for the rest of the world. In interviews at the time, Jones made clear that the series was drawing a direct parallel with the American superpower, and openly criticised the war in Iraq. For many, criticising Rome has become a way of criticising American policy and culture. Inevitably, this affects their view of both.'

  Milder and less detailed criticism is even more common. At certain sorts of parties, the discovery that I am an ancient historian almost inevitably prompts someone to remark that `America is the new Rome.' More often than not this is followed by a smug, of course, they don't see it.' This at least is utterly false, for Americans have been comparing their country to Rome since its foundation. In shaping the new country, the Founding Fathers consciously hoped to copy the strengths of the Roman Republic and avoid its eventual downfall. These days, it is also fair to say that the different university systems tend to make educated Americans broader in the range of their knowledge than the British. Plenty of engineers or medical doctors in America will at some point have taken a course or two in history or even the classics, something which is unimaginable on this side of the Atlantic. This is one of the reasons why Roman analogies remain exceptionally common in the USA, and are routinely made by politicians themselves as well as journalists, political commentators and the wider public. Usually it begins with the assumption that the USA as the sole superpower left in the world is dominant in a way unmatched by anyone since the height of Roman power.

  In the summer of 2001 I took part in a two-day seminar organised by the Center for Strategic and Budgetary Assessments, which was US government-funded by the Office of Net Assessments. Six historians were brought to a nice hotel in Washington DC - as one of the older and more distinguished members of the group put it, `They obviously don't realise what academics will put up with.' We then gave papers and discussed the grand strategies of various great powers from history. We were just a small part of a wider series of seminars and research sessions aimed at providing insights about future relations between the USA and the emerging power of China. The talks and discussions were enjoyable and fascinating - it is quite rare in academic circles for conferences to cover such a wide range of periods, including First Empire France, Germany in the First and Second World Wars, and British naval policy in the early twentieth century. Yet it was striking that two out of the six of us had been asked to speak about different periods of Roman history.

  It is in fact an odd sensation for an historian to talk to an audience that is actually listening to what you are saying. In the university context, most people tend to be thinking more about what they will say in comment on a paper. The subject matter is also literally of no more than `academic' interest, and however excited and enthusiastic we feel about the topic, this is simply because the hope is always to discover the truth. It is rather humbling to think that at many, many removes, and in the tiniest way, someone may try to shape policy on the basis of your analysis. This naturally focuses the mind in a way no purely academic meeting ever does. It becomes even more important to get at the truth of your subject. At the same time the idea that a government agency is genuinely trying to learn lessons from history is hugely encouraging. Again this is something far more likely to happen in the USA than over here in Britain.

  Many people feel that they can see clear similarities between Ancient Rome and the modern world. Comments and questions about this have been overwhelmingly the most frequent during interviews publicising my biography of Julius Caesar. This has been true everywhere, but especially in the USA. Yet the conclusions people draw from these perceived parallels vary immensely and, inevitably, have a lot to do with their own political beliefs. It has always been easy to learn lessons from history, but all too often this is simply the case of using the past to justify modern ideas. Any close look at the Roman Empire will soon reveal massive differences with any modern state, including the United States. None of this means that it is impossible to learn from the past, simply that it must be done with considerable care and a good deal of caution.'

  This is not a book about modern America and its place in the world, something which others are far better placed to write. It is a book about the collapse of the Roman Empire, which vanished in the west and was eventually left as little more than a rump in the east. The
aim is to understand the history on its own terms and in its own context. Historians do not always make the best prophets. The seminar I mentioned earlier was followed just a few months later by the terrorist attacks of 9/11. I would imagine the report produced after the series of conferences is now gathering dust somewhere as immediate priorities have shifted so profoundly. I am pretty sure someone at the seminar made a brief comment about China not posing the only serious threat and about the continued importance of oil and the Persian Gulf, but I may be imagining it. Certainly, none of us gave the impression that we expected that soon America and its allies would be fighting two major conflicts on land. I for one would certainly never have imagined that British Forces would be back in Afghanistan, on the other side of the old North-West Frontier.

  This book is about Rome, an empire long vanished and from a world where the technology and culture were so very different from today. Understanding that world is the only way to understand Rome's fall. Filling the pages with constant references to the present day is unlikely to help achieve this. It is more than a little odd to read studies of the Roman period describing the `shock and awe' of the invasion of Britain in 43. It is even stranger when the discussion of the end of a Roman province provides the opportunity for criticism of Bush and Blair and the war in Iraq.4

  The Roman Empire did not fall quickly, but as part of a very slow process, and this should warn us against magnifying current events and their likely consequences on the long-term fortune of countries. Britain has been a fairly depressing place in the last decade or so. Ministers caught out in incompetence, corruption or blatant deceitfulness cling on to power like limpets, first denying everything, before finally apologising and expecting this to be enough. Bureaucracy and regulation continue to grow apace, while the basic efficiency of institutions declines, rendering them incapable of even the apparently simple tasks. Yet while the number of civil servants rises, the size of the armed forces shrinks at the very time they are more heavily committed to serious campaigns. It would be easy to draw parallels with the Roman Empire in the fourth century. The self-righteous tone of so much government legislation certainly chimes with Late Roman imperial decrees, as does the apparent failure of so much of this to achieve its aim. Such comparisons are unlikely to assist our analysis of the Roman Empire, and would be no more than the author indulging himself. Understanding the history must come first.