The Roman empire nears collapse as the Goths overrun the Balkans, the Persians invade the East, generals fight for the throne, and provinces secede to form new states, all while plague kills millions of people. As the inhabitants of Dacia stand against the chaos, messengers arrive bearing an imperial decision that will forever alter their lives.

The map below shows what the Mediterranean world looked like in 270 CE: while the Roman empire retained power in the centre, a breakaway state formed around Gaul in the West, and one around Palmyra in the East.

To help you better understand how our local theatre fits into the larger crisis, I’ve highlighted the province of Dacia on the map, along with the lands of the Dacian Carpi and the Germanic Goths. Of course, there were dozens of other tribes on the frontiers of the empire, but I’ve only focused on the players that are most relevant to our story.

Transcript

Hello and welcome to A history of Romania.

Season 1, Episode 15: Fragmentation

Last episode, we covered the first half of the third century, during which all free inhabitants of the Roman empire gained citizenship, and millions of people started a fresh chapter of their lives with new privileges and opportunities. At the same time, though, bloody coups multiplied, putting the throne in the hands of ruthless generals or influenceable teenagers, while the Persian empire intensified its attacks in the East, and barbarian tribes on the European frontiers undertook ever more frequent raids.

And yet, the empire overcame all these challenges and, in the year 248, the situation was stable enough for emperor Philip to celebrate Rome’s thousandth anniversary, which is where we left off.

As the Romans celebrated with wine and gladiatorial shows, the peoples outside the empire were studying the frontiers for weaknesses. As you’ll recall, the Dacian Carpi who lived east of the Carpathians and the Germanic Goths who had migrated north of the Black Sea had raided the empire intermittently for the past decade. These barbarians hadn’t had a unified strategy; instead, as one warband attacked the frontier, others saw an opportunity to join in. While the Carpi had been the ones to initiate attacks till now, the Goths were about to take the lead.

In the spring of 248, they marched southwards along the coast of the Black Sea and headed straight for Moesia Inferior. They were followed by the Carpi and several smaller Germanic and Sarmatian tribes. The Roman commander in the area, Decius, engaged the invaders and, after several difficult months, secured the border. Having proven himself, he was then sent to put down a pretender to the throne, and he won that battle, too. Decius’ soldiers were exuberant at his successes and thought: “Our guy is pretty good; why isn’t he in charge of the empire?” So, they acclaimed him emperor, and Decius graciously accepted, then marched against the sitting emperor, defeated and killed him.

And so, in 249, the Roman empire had a new ruler. Decius was an experienced leader with a particular knowledge of the Danubian region. He had been born in Pannonia, had served as governor of several provinces, and commanded armies along the Danube, meaning that he was aware of the area’s strengths and vulnerabilities, and devoted resources to it accordingly. In Dacia, he renovated buildings and repaved the imperial road that traversed the province from south to north, for which he was called restitutor Daciarum, meaning “the restorer of Dacia.”

Yet he was soon called back to the battlefield, as the Goths led their coalition once again across the Danube a year later. This time, the invaders were more numerous and made it all the way to Thrace, where they devastated the countryside and even sacked some cities. Decius engaged them in battle, but lost, and was forced to retreat and let the Goths roam the Balkan provinces at will. The barbarians remained in the empire for a full year, pillaging unopposed while Decius reorganized his army. By the summer of 251, the emperor was ready to face them again, and he intercepted them as they were heading back north with their loot. As the two forces clashed, Decius’ side gained the advantage. The Gothic warriors began to retreat, and the emperor urged his legionaries onwards – but it was a ruse; as the barbarians fell back, they lured the Romans into a swamp and ambushed them. The legionaries were trapped, and tens of thousands of them died in the muddy chaos – with Decius being one of the victims. For the first time in history, a Roman emperor had been killed by a foreign enemy.

After the battle, what remained of the legions proclaimed their commander as emperor, and he immediately made peace with the Goths, granting them heavy concessions; the barbarians were allowed to leave the empire with their captives and plunder, and would be paid an annual subsidy as well. It was a devastating deal, but the Romans had little choice.

As the barbarians returned to their homelands, a strange blight befell the Balkan provinces. Sailors coming from the Mediterranean began experiencing fever, coughing, and developing rashes, and the disease soon spread beyond the docks to traders on roads, farmers in fields, workers in cities, and soldiers in forts. People suffered for weeks, and each passing day, fewer and fewer of them left their lodgings. Within months, every corner of the Roman world was infected, and death swept over the land.

Dionysius, who was the leader of the Christian community in Alexandria, wrote: “Everyone is mourning and the city resounds with weeping because of the numbers that have died and are dying every day. There is not a house in which there is not one dead – how I wish it had been only one! Out of the blue came this disease, a thing more terrifying than any terror, more frightful than any disaster whatsoever.”

There are several contenders as to what this disease could’ve been, but a strong one is measles. The inhabitants of the empire had no immunity, and historians estimate that about 15% of the population died, which amounts to millions of people. In the Danubian provinces, citizens who had seen their fields burned, their goods stolen, and their loved ones captured or killed by barbarians now faced an incurable pestilence. Houses were left abandoned, tools were left unused, fields became overgrown, and graves overflowed. Farmers couldn’t harvest their crops, adding famine to disease.

The plague of course didn’t stop at the borders, but infected the Goths, Carpi, and other peoples as well. At the same time, the Romans were unable to pay the subsidies they had pledged to the Goths, since they were struggling to even feed themselves, so the Goths decided to invade again, and crossed the Danube in 253. Thankfully for the Romans, the general in the area was able to repulse them, even as his forces dealt with famine and plague. His soldiers saw in him a successful leader in an uncertain time, and proclaimed him emperor; this contender marched off to Rome to fight for the throne, but was killed by a rival general. The man who had defeated him became the newest ruler of the empire, and his name was Valerian.

At this point in 253, the empire was in crisis on several fronts. The Persians were invading the eastern provinces; Germanic tribes were raiding the Rhine; and I haven’t even mentioned all the claimants to the throne that didn’t succeed. Valerian realized that the problems facing the Roman world were too numerous and too big to be handled by a single person. So, he appointed his son Gallienus as co-emperor and put him in charge of the western half of the empire, while he took the eastern half, with the dividing line being the Bosphorus.

Gallienus was quickly put to the test. Fifteen years had passed since the Goths first attacked the empire and, by this time, the Roman cities on the northern coast of the Black Sea had finally fallen. The Goths gained control of their docks and decided to press their sailors into service. Henceforth, merchant ships crewed by Roman sailors would be at the command of Gothic war chiefs, which brought a whole new threat to the empire. For the past two centuries, the Black Sea had been a Roman lake; the fleet stationed along the Danube could deal with a few pirates, but was completely unprepared to face the entire Roman merchant fleet armed to the brim.

In 257, the Goths led a coalition of tribes including the Carpi across the Danube, while their ships raided the cities on the coast. The invaders crossed the Bosphorus and even ravaged parts of Anatolia. Gallienus rushed to the region and managed to defeat the Carpi, gaining the title of Dacicus Maximus. But a barbarian attack on the Rhine at the same time threatened Italy, and so he was forced to withdraw. Once again, the barbarians were left to raid the Balkan provinces unchecked, and the population’s only recourse was to wait for them to leave once their carts were full of loot and prisoners.

Meanwhile, Valerian was fighting the Persians who had invaded and overrun several eastern provinces in the 250s. After years of campaigning, the Roman emperor finally came face to face with the Persian King of Kings in 260. In the resulting battle, Valerian’s forces were beaten, and he himself was captured. For the first time, a Roman emperor had been taken prisoner. This was not only a huge blow to the empire’s armies, but also to its reputation.

The only forces left to oppose the Persians were those of Odaenathus, who was the leader of the Syrian city of Palmyra. In collaboration with the Romans, Odaenathus had fought the Persians over the past decade, and had been so successful as to be inducted into the Senate and made governor of a local province. When Valerian was captured, Odaenathus declared himself the king of Palmyra. But he didn’t secede from the empire; instead, he remained nominally loyal to Gallienus and continued to fight the Persians as well as rivals of the Roman emperor. For this service, Gallienus granted him authority over all the armies and governors of the eastern Roman provinces, from the Anatolian plateau to the Sinai Peninsula. But this appointment was less of a reward and more of a reflection of reality; Odaenathus had carved himself a kingdom and extended his reach far beyond Palmyra; Gallienus obviously didn’t like it, but as long as this rebel was defeating the Persians and his domestic rivals, he would go along with the fiction that Odaenathus was acting with his approval; he had no way to restore his rule in the region, so his best option was to keep the rebel happy and occupied until he was able to forcefully remove him.

In the West, a similar situation was developing. That same year, in 260, a general on the Rhine called Postumus managed to repel a massive Germanic raid and proclaimed himself emperor. But unlike all other contenders before him, Postumus didn’t seek to establish himself in Rome; no, he remained where he was in Gaul and created a replica of Rome’s government. He became pontifex maximus, established a senate, allocated consulships, and minted his own coins. Postumus styled himself restitutor Galliarum, meaning the restorer of Gaul, and positioned himself as the protector of the surrounding provinces of Germania, Britannia, and Hispania. His goal wasn’t to replace Gallienus, but to rule the western reaches of the empire that had been neglected by the central government. Indeed, for the past decade, Gaul and its neighbouring provinces had been sending their taxes to Rome, and Rome had failed to defend them. So when this successful general gave them his full attention, they had no problem pledging allegiance to him.

Over the next couple years, Postumus defeated repeated Germanic invasions and sought recognition from Gallienus for his replica empire. The Roman emperor of course refused; since he was preoccupied with barbarians and contenders, he was unable to dislodge Postumus, and so was happy to let him defend the West. But Gallienus couldn’t condone the fragmentation of the empire, and as soon as he would be in a better position, he sought to deal with this traitor.

To help you better understand the situation, I’ve drawn a map of the fractured Roman world at this time, which you can find in this episode’s description.

As the empire splintered into three – a western part ruled by Postumus, an eastern part ruled by Odaenathus, and a central part ruled by Gallienus – the province of Dacia was left isolated. The Danube was no longer a defensible frontier; throughout the 250s and 260s, Goths, Carpi, and other tribes regularly crossed the river and devastated the Balkans; Dacia was not only attacked from the plains south of the Carpathians, but also through the mountain passes. Its connection with Moesia and the lands further south was severed, and its mint located in Sarmizegetusa halted operations, as the need for coinage dropped significantly. The nature of Dacia’s economy changed from a thriving sector with large exports and luxury imports, to one focused on subsistence in the face of plague and enemies on all sides.

The people of Dacia buried their wealth and hastily repaired fortifications with whatever materials they could find. With attacks all along the European frontier, detachments from the two legions in the province were transferred to other areas of the empire. Due to this shortage of soldiers, garrisons were moved away from the northeastern frontier of Dacia and were concentrated near the cities, and so barbarians crossed the mountain passes and made it inside the Carpathian arc. Yet the people of Dacia remained defiant in the face of these calamities; though its borders had been somewhat reduced, all of Dacia’s cities remained secure, and its inhabitants continued to defend the empire and erected inscriptions honouring Gallienus.

In 267, the Goths launched their biggest attack yet. Five hundred ships sailed the Black Sea, and tens of thousands of warriors descended down the coast. The barbarians made it to Greece and sacked Athens, Corinth, Argos, and Sparta. They also overran both sides of the Bosphorus, and their fleet raided Crete, Rhodes, and Cyprus, then stayed in the eastern Mediterranean for the next two years.

In the midst of these attacks, Gallienus was murdered by his own generals, and one of them, Claudius, took the throne in 268. He mustered his forces and met the Goths in Moesia, where he inflicted a devastating defeat on them, for which he was given the title of Gothicus Maximus. But Claudius couldn’t follow up his success on this front, since he died of the plague soon afterwards in 270.

He was succeeded by his top general, Aurelian, who inherited an empire on the brink of collapse. Though the latest Gothic attack had been repulsed, the Balkans had basically been as much in barbarian hands as Roman ones for two decades; tribes were still ravaging the Rhine frontier; and plague was still decimating the population and the army. Moreover, it had been a decade since Postumus’ empire in the West and Odaenathus’ kingdom in the East had seceded; by now, the kingdom of Palmyra had also conquered Egypt, cutting off grain supplies to the capital. Each year they were allowed to exist, these two breakaway states gained more power and legitimacy.

If Aurelian hoped to restore the Roman empire, he needed to take drastic measures, and so he made a difficult decision. In 271, Aurelian sent orders to the governor of Dacia that he was to evacuate the province and move his forces south of the Danube.

This was an unprecedented decree. It’s true, the empire had abandoned provinces before, like when Hadrian had relinquished Trajan’s conquests, but those lands had been under Roman rule for less than a decade. Dacia, on the other hand, had been part of the empire for 165 years. It had cities, monuments, villas, magistrates, a civil service – was a full Roman province like any other. But with Moesia, Thrace, and Greece devastated by barbarian raids, the empire could no longer supply Dacia with reinforcements, and could hardly trade with it. If its legions were left where they were, they would be completely isolated and would be destroyed by constant assaults from all sides. As part of a strategic retreat, those forces needed to join their brethren south of the Danube and reinforce that defensive line. Once the Balkan provinces were stabilized, they could return north to recover what was lost.

Aurelian created a new province of Dacia south of the Danube by carving land from between Moesia Inferior and Moesia Superior. The idea was to welcome refugees into a province of the same name, while also making it seem like this strategic retreat wasn’t that bad, ’cause, see? There’s still a Dacia in the empire.

Here we arrive at one of the most important questions in Romanian history: when and how did the Romans evacuate Dacia? Historians still haven’t reached a unanimous conclusion because the literary sources are unclear and contradictory. For the subject, we rely on six writers: Sextus Aurelius Victor, Eutropius, Rufius Festus, the anonymous author of the Historia Augusta, Orosius, and Iordanes. These men wrote between 90 to 280 years after the evacuation – and their interpretations of it differ.

Eutropius, Rufius Festus, and Iordanes speak of a double abandonment of Dacia, one under Gallienus and one under Aurelian; Sextus Aurelius Victor and Orosius say the province was evacuated under Gallienus; whereas the author of the Historia Augusta says it only occurred under Aurelian. So, what do we do with these contradictions?

First, let’s tackle when the province was abandoned. Those who believe that it was evacuated under Gallienus point to the fact that minting stopped in Dacia during his reign in 256; but this isn’t a convincing argument, because minting stopped in Moesia Superior two years before in 254, and we know that province wasn’t abandoned. Plus, some coins minted at the beginning of Aurelian’s reign in 270 bear the legend Dacia Felix, meaning “happy Dacia.” Later emissions don’t mention Dacia Felix, implying that the inscription refers not to Aurelian’s new Dacia, but to the original Dacia north of the Danube. Moreover, the capital of this new province began minting coins a year later, such that the most plausible date for the Roman retreat is the year 271.  

But why, then, would some sources mention an abandonment during Gallienus’ reign?  The most probable answer is that parts of Dacia were abandoned in the 260s in the face of barbarian assaults. This partial retreat is corroborated by the Tabula Peutingeriana, which is a map drawn between 260 and 271. It shows that the northeastern parts of Dacia were no longer part of the empire, but that all other regions of the original province were still there.

So, based on the evidence I’ve seen, this is the angle I’ve taken in the story: that parts of Dacia were abandoned during Gallienus’ reign in the 260s, and that Aurelian initiated a complete retreat in 271.

Now that we’ve dealt with the when, let’s get to the how. Who actually retreated from Dacia? We’ll discuss the significance of this question at the end of the season, but for now I only want to look at the evidence. One theory states that the entire population of the province was moved south of the Danube, emptying out all settlements; the other theory argues that the army, administration, and part of the civilian population were moved, but that the majority of the inhabitants remained in place.

Those who say that the entire province was vacated point to the literary sources. Eutropius, for example, says that: “The province of Dacia, which Trajan had formed beyond the Danube, Aurelian gave up, despairing, after all Illyricum and Moesia had been depopulated, of being able to retain it. The Roman citizens, removed from the towns and lands of Dacia, he settled in the interior of Moesia, calling that Dacia which now divides the two Moesias.” Eutropius seems to imply that all the citizens of Dacia left the countryside and urban centres. But this writer is also prone to exaggeration; in that same passage, he says that “all Illyricum and Moesia had been depopulated,” which we know is false, so we have to look at other evidence too to arrive at an answer, and here archeology is key.

The population of Dacia at this time is estimated at roughly 800,000 people. If all of them were moved south of the Danube, we’d notice new settlements being built to accommodate them; but we find no new towns or cities in Aurelian’s Dacia; in fact, we find the same settlements as before the creation of this province, which suggests that the number of refugees was small enough to be absorbed by existing communities. Moreover, numerous settlements in the original Dacia show signs of continued habitation without disturbance after 271, implying that not everyone left in the evacuation.

If we put Aurelian’s decision in context, the Roman world had been in crisis for the past twenty years, with barbarians overrunning the borders, pretenders springing up everywhere, trade between provinces collapsing, plague decimating the population, and the empire splitting into three. In these circumstances, it would’ve been impossible for the Roman government to evacuate every family from every city, town, and village in Dacia, especially since the province was still under threat and the government was fully focused on its defense.

When Aurelian’s order arrived, the governor probably did his best to evacuate everyone; he spread the news through all channels at his disposal, from town criers to petty functionaries, and most likely set a date for departure, leaving people a certain amount of time to gather their goods. Those who wanted to leave could do so at the same time as the army, under its protection, but the governor couldn’t spare soldiers to collect people; they had to come to the mustering points themselves.

Of course, the governor accorded special attention to his friends which formed the aristocracy of the province. Men with connections, land, and wealth were given support and accommodations by the authorities as they strived to get all their moveable possessions – including enslaved people – on carts and head to the closest legionary castra.

But the majority of the population was probably not in a rush to leave.

If you were a farmhand working for a large landowner, why would you follow your employer who took everything you produced and gave you a pittance in return? Once he’d left, you could continue to work the same plot of land as before, but you’d now be able to claim a portion of it for yourself, and no one would take away your produce or force you to do work you didn’t want to do. Whatever you grew would remain yours, and you would give this land to your children. Of course, once the empire left, barbarians would move in and would either settle nearby or demand tribute. But at least, when these new masters came, you would be able to negotiate with them not as a tenant, but as a landholder.

If you were a labourer in a workshop, it was more advantageous not to leave with your boss. Trade had been declining for the past decade and was now reduced to the essentials; you probably weren’t making jewellery for export, but shoes and bowls that would be of use to any person – Roman or barbarian. As we’ve seen, Roman merchants had been intensely trading with barbarian leaders for decades before these wars began, and the two sides were familiar with each other; it was thus likely that you’d be able to establish friendly relations with the barbarians once they arrived in the area, and they would need goods the same as before. And so, by staying, you could grab the tools left behind by your boss and ply your trade for your own profit, knowing that you’d always have customers.

If you were enslaved, Aurelian’s order was an unimaginable gift giving you a unique opportunity to gain your freedom. Everyone would’ve known the date when the army was leaving, so you could flee and hide out until the masters had left. The legions were preoccupied with barbarians and the rich were busy gathering their possessions. No one would have the time to track you down. Masters could of course entice enslaved workers with rewards, better working conditions, or promises of freedom if they stayed by their side; and of course, some enslaved people working in the administration or in households took the deal; but undoubtedly, the majority of those working in the fields, workshops, and mines chose freedom, and in the chaos of the retreat, the masters could do nothing to stop them. The coming barbarian order was an uncertain one, it’s true, but you would be able to navigate it as a free person.

So, who actually evacuated Dacia? The answer, in my opinion, is: the army, the administration, and part of the civilian population that was associated with the elite, meaning magistrates, landowners, their servants, and those who sought their fortunes and futures in the empire. Yet the majority of the population, the poor in the countryside and in the workshops, the enslaved on farms and in mines, and those who laboured for others in forests, valleys, docks, and households – they remained in place. By doing so, they escaped their former obligations and had a chance to gain a piece of land for themselves as well as whatever the rich weren’t able to carry with them.

And so, in the year 271, long columns of refugees headed south out of Dacia, with legionary soldiers guarding their retreat. Those who had chosen to stay north of the Danube saw the tendrils of the Roman empire retract and experienced a period of uncertainty and opportunity as they awaited the inevitable arrival of barbarians. Next time, we’ll see what Aurelian does with the Dacian troops he’s pulled back, and see how the Roman citizens left north of the Danube interact with their new neighbours.