The Siege of Florence 406 AD - Ostrogoths at the Gates

It is a warm but cloudy summer day in central Italy. The large Gothic warband, having spent months ravaging the Italian countryside, finally reaches the gates of Florentia, a wealthy and still prosperous Roman city. The native warriors chatter with passion, anticipating the treasures that lay within the walls. Inside the city, Roman soldiers raise the alarm. Barbarians are at the gates. A small party of riders spur their horses through Florence's gates, bound for the distant capital to summon aid. Behind the walls, the garrison scrambles to their posts, resolved to defend their homes. The siege was about to begin. It is the beginning of summer of the year 402 AD. Roman citizens line the streets of Rome in spite of the sun beating down on the cobblestone pavements. Flavius Stilicho, a half-barbarian general, takes his place at the head of a triumphant parade to celebrate a seemingly great victory over the Gothic menace that dared to enter Italy a few months earlier. Though he rode side by side with adolescent emperor Honorius, pretending to share the glory, it was an open secret that it was not the dim-witted youth, but Stilicho, who staved off the barbarian hordes and held the Western Roman Empire together. But if you happened to watch our previous episode, you'd probably raise an eyebrow at this lavish celebration. While Alaric, the fearsome Gothic leader, was driven off, he didn't just vanish into thin air. He still drew breath somewhere in Alaricum and, what's worse, still had a sizable force of hardened Gothic warriors under his command. For many Romans with common sense, this celebration felt a bit excessive. Stilicho knew this, but he needed to seize every chance to cement his image as the Empire's shield against the barbarians and bolster his grip on power. Due to his very limited resources, he couldn't afford wiping out the Goths entirely, so he played a long and cunning game, hoping to use Alaric as a pawn in his struggle against the Eastern part of the Empire. Stilicho had granted Alaric some level of official recognition, perhaps comus rei militaris over Western Illyrian provinces. Of course, this was no gesture of goodwill, rather a ploy to enlist Gothic warriors to replenish the Imperial legions and reignite Stilicho's ambition to influence the Eastern court. For those pulling the strings in Constantinople, it was a clear sign that Stilicho was steering towards a full-scale conflict with the East. But in fact, positioning Alaric between the two halves of the Empire was to serve as a thorn, a constant irritation that would keep the Eastern court off balance. Stilicho seemed to be a cautious, pragmatic leader and, despite the fear he instilled to the East, he simply wasn't strong enough to risk an offensive action against Constantinople. Whatever they were, Stilicho's plans were abruptly stopped in the early autumn of the year 405, when a messenger from the Pannonian frontier arrived with dreadful news. A swarm of Germanic and Alani people, led by a warlord named Radagais, crossed the barely defended Roman borders at the upper Danube, entering the Empire somewhat east of the Alps. We do not know truly what stood behind Radagais' incursion. It could be ascribed to the relentless pressure of the Huns, driving his people westward, a common explanation of the time. Yet, it is equally plausible that the Western Empire's neglect of its allied tribes beyond the border played a crucial role. Radagais may have seen his invasion as a way to force the Western government to grant him the tribute and recognition similar to what his distant kinsman Alaric had secured for himself and his own people a couple years earlier. Whatever the truth, Radagais wasted no time and descended upon the countryside of Raetia. Facing no opposition from the weakened Roman state, his warriors plundered crops, livestock and valuables, throwing the region into chaos. Seizing the advantage of lingering, Radagais advanced through the narrow, still accessible Alpine passes. In days of old, the mountain garrisons would have posed a daunting obstacle for any invader. Yet, Radagais simply marched past them, finding them abandoned, emptied by the excessive recruitment demands of Silico and Theodosius, his late patron. A grim testament to the Empire's twilight in the early 5th century. Ancient chroniclers recorded that Radagais' horde numbered in the unbelievable hundreds of thousands. Yet, by modern estimates, with perhaps one in four or five being a warrior, his forces likely comprised just north of 20,000 fighting men, still a terrifying number for the time. Emperor Honorius, upon learning of a new barbarian army entering Italy, panicked and escaped to the walled city of Ravenna, which was surrounded by swamps and marshes and thought to be easily defensible. In fact, Honorius transferred the imperial seat there from Mediolanum in the wake of Alaric's invasion of Italy. This change of capital, thought to be temporary, lasted until the final days of the Western Roman Empire and only underscored the change in status of the emperor from active ruler to ceremonial figurehead. Unlike the emperor, Silico did not cower beneath blankets and, despite the grievous situation, struggled to face the grave circumstances and muster enough troops to match Radagais' invasion force. It was virtually an impossible task. He called for every able-bodied man to defend the Roman heartlands and, being in dire need, mustered the remaining Limitani troops from Gaul. It was said that the Rhine was left to be guarded only out of fear for Roman retaliation, a decision that would cost the Romans dearly. In a desperate move, even slaves were conscripted into the army, enticed with promises of gold and freedom. Including foederati units provided by Alans and Huns, Silico managed to assemble a force no greater than 15,000 men. The Roman general did not just merely wait for his troops to gather near Mediolanum. He spent a great deal of time planning his next move, as his scouts brought him detailed reports on Radagais' movements and actions throughout Italy. The Gothic warlord lacked the logistics to sustain his massive army for a protracted period unlike the imperial legions. Consequently, his followers split into three foraging parties, each scouring the land on their own. Silico welcomed this news, but was aware that this scattering of the invading forces would not last forever and so, in the middle of August, he decided it was time to confront the barbarian invaders on the field. When fresh reports revealed that the main host of invaders had besieged the wealthy city of Florentia, Silico saw his chance. With determination, he used Italy's sturdy roads to advance his forces southward in a brisk march. His aim was to prevent the other two groups of Radagais' army from rallying to Florentia and to hopefully obliterate the main barbarian contingent with a surprise assault. Meanwhile, Radagais had his troops encamped at strategic positions around the besieged city in the hope of starving out the defenders and compel them to surrender. The Goths, under his command, launched repeated assaults to take the city by storm. But with scarcely any siege equipment and only brief preparation, their chances were narrow. Time, however, was on their side. Chroniclers point out that the Roman defenders fought with remarkable devotion, but after several gruelling weeks, the city's supplies dwindled and the garrison was on the verge of breaking up. When hope seemed lost, the spirit of Saint Ambrose was said to have appeared to a man, promising that salvation would arrive the following day. The news, most likely a fantasy of ancient chroniclers, lifted the spirits of the defenders and, miraculously, the very next day, the Roman standards loomed on the horizon. Stilicho had driven his army hard, marching them for nearly three hundred kilometres with relentless speed. When the Gothic encampment around Florentia came into view, Stilicho's eyes gleamed as the first part of his plan had worked. He unleashed the mounted units of allied Alans and Huns at the unprepared Goths. Caught of guard, the barbarians had little time to react. Arrows hissed through the air, piercing bone and flesh alike. Chaos erupted as the Alan cavalry charged forth, cutting through the Gothic ranks. Despite the initial shock, the Roman foederati lacked the force to break the besiegers. Barragais yelled over the clamour of battle, rallying his men. The Goths, though hard-pressed, retreated to the rocky heights northeast of the city, that seemed to be their only hope for victory. Barragais frantically shouted orders, urging his men to form ranks and brace for an assault, but to his confusion, the final charge never came. Stilicho, a master of prudence, didn't take the bait. He remembered the difficulty to muster his troops and advanced just enough to cut off any escape routes from the Goths. While attacking the barbarians entrenched on a high ground could result in a victory, it would come at a very high cost. Instead, Stilicho chose a different path. He proceeded to construct a line of rudimentary earthen fortifications, trapping their enemy on the hill and starving them out – an old and proven Roman tactic. The Goths launched a number of uncoordinated attacks to break through Stilicho's lines, but to no avail. Knowing that his supplies of food and water were depleting quickly, Radagais made a desperate attempt to reach the other two groups of his army or possibly just to flee. Either way, he was captured by Roman forces before he could break through. His men, encircled and beleaguered, had lost all heart and surrendered soon thereafter. Stilicho felt no need to deal gently with the captured Radagais, for the Gothic warlord had laid waste to northern Italy for over half a year, spreading destruction and suffering. On the 23rd of August, Radagais, together with his sons, were put to the sword. Once word spread that Radagais and his main force had been vanquished, the other two barbarian groups lost their spirit. Chronicles differ on the details. One faction possibly fell to an assault by allied Huns, while the other either fled in disarray or surrendered. The scale of Stilicho's victory brought him immense popularity and military prestige. The Senate, in its gratitude, decreed constructions of monuments to celebrate his achievements. Yet, despite his hard-won victories against the odds, Stilicho had little time for respite. Dark clouds gathered, as just months later, the Western Roman Empire faced dangers even greater than any before.