Nearly every society today follows a seven-day week. Moreover, stock markets, work schedules, and religious observances all follow this cycle. Interestingly, a year is determined by the Earth’s orbit around the Sun, and a month is tied to the Moon’s cycle. But the seven-day week is different. It’s not perfectly aligned to any single natural celestial event. So, why does most of the modern world follow a seven-day week?

The Babylonians Invented the 7-Day Week to Align with the Moon’s Phases

Seven-day weeks are an integral part of the modern Gregorian calendar. The concept is a human-made approximation of the Moon’s natural cycle.

The Babylonians divided the 29.5-day lunar month into four seven-day periods, creating a convenient measure of time that roughly follows the moon’s phases. According to archaeological evidence, this system was invented in ancient Mesopotamia over 4,000 years ago.

The Babylonian Celestial Bodies and Their Influence on Weekday Names

The seven-day week can be traced back to the Babylonians of Mesopotamia who were skilled at watching and explaining the movements of the stars. At the time, they were able to track seven celestial bodies that moved across the skies. They included the Sun, Moon, Mars, Mercury, Jupiter, Venus, and Saturn. For them, each body possessed divine influence and represented a specific deity.

Because the number 7 was holy to them, they split their lunar months into seven-day weeks. The last day of the week carried special religious importance to them. However, the 29.5-day month, which was essentially one full cycle of the Moon, remained. The week was a convenient timeframe for them, as a month was slightly too long to track easily. Every day of the week was linked to a particular heavenly body.

Judaism and Christianity Strengthened the 7-Day Week by Introducing the Sabbath

The seven-day week was given further credence after it was taken up by the Jewish people who had cultural interactions and influences from the Babylonians. Jewish and Christian customs strengthened the seven-day pattern through the Sabbath day which was dedicated to rest and prayer. According to the Hebrew Bible, God created the world in six days and took a rest on the seventh. Under Mosaic law, there is a Sabbath year as well as a Sabbath day. Observing the Sabbath required that the fields be left unplanted as it was regarded as holy. Hebrew slaves were also granted their freedom after six years of service.

The Roman Empire Made the 7-Day Week a Global Standard in 321 AD

The modern week became a global standard after the Roman Empire began using the system. For hundreds of years, the Romans primarily relied on the eight-day nundinal cycle for public and market life. The eighth day of the cycle was called nundinae or market day. For many years, the eight-day and seven-day weeks coexisted within different societies, with the seven-day planetary week gaining prominence from the 1st century AD onward. Things changed drastically after Emperor Constantine officially made the seven-day week the official cycle of the empire in 321 AD.

Constantine, who converted to Christianity, formally fixed the seven-day week into the Roman calendar and named Sunday as the day for rest and worship. It was after the implementation in Rome that the system gained prominence in other parts of the world. One of the earliest documented uses of the weekday system in the Roman Empire is a piece of graffiti from the city of Pompeii that refers to February 6, 60 AD as dies Solis (the day of the Sun or Sunday).

Modern Attempts to Replace the 7-Day Week Have Consistently Failed

There have been numerous attempts to get rid of the seven-day week. For example, in 1793 during the French Revolution, the leaders tried to invent a new calendar by dividing each month into three ten-day periods called décades. The idea, however, never caught on with people and Napoleon dropped it completely in 1805.

In 1929, the Soviet Union tried something different – a five-day week with staggered rest days. They assigned rest days and used different colors for different groups of workers. The changes, however, caused so much confusion that they were forced to switch to a six-day week instead in 1931. By 1940, the Soviets had gone back to the regular seven-day week.

Imperial Rome’s expansion brought the Empire to the Danube River by 15 BC. Later campaigns brought all the Danube under Roman control by AD 14. Conquered areas became provinces, which fluctuated between six and eight. These included Raetia, Noricum, Pannonia, Moesia, Dacia, and Scythia Minor. For the provinces and the Empire, the Danube served as a critical barrier and a gateway.

Two environmental factors aided Rome: winter and the river’s unpredictability. The Danube’s width and swift current made crossings challenging. Winter meant a frozen river, treacherous and ice liable to break at any time. Roman fortifications along the steep southern banks only further complicated attempts at invasion. 

The Danube River also became a gateway for Rome. Controlling the river also meant regulating access to Eastern or Central Europe. As a hub, the Danube let Rome control central Europe and the Balkans. Rome exploited the conquered areas, including the Balkans, the Carpathians, and the Danube Basin. 

The Danube River shield absorbed much external pressure. Armies needed to cross the river, break the defenses, and move fast. The vast territory allowed the Roman Army to trade space for time, moving reinforcements in. Rome never viewed the Danube as a settled frontier, only a high-risk one.

Economic Importance

Rome’s conquests along the Danube rewarded the Empire handsomely. The Danube’s length facilitated cheap transportation. Bulk goods moved included grain, timber, metals, and other goods moved between provinces. Cheap river shipping kept garrisons, towns, and civilians well supplied (or reinforced). The Danubian provinces supplied staples that helped feed the Empire’s northern regions, thereby reducing costs.

Alongside agriculture, Roman exploitation of resources (timber, iron, gold) helped the Imperial treasury. 

Dacian goldmines became a prized resource. Eventually, taxation follows commerce. A network of customs houses (portoria) collected duties along the river. These stations regulated trade and collected revenue, typically at a rate of 2.5% to 5%.

Danubian Diplomacy, Assimilation, and Defense

Despite imperial invasions, Rome tempered its success. The Danube’s width, length, and marshy terrain made it an excellent barrier. From here, Roman officials dealt safely with volatile barbarians like the Sarmatians, Dacians, and Goths. The powerful Huns arrived circa 370 CE. Unlike the Rhine, Rome faced multiple powers capable of forming coalitions. The wily Romans used various methods, such as treaty-making, payments, and playing rivals against each other.

Despite the Danube’s frontier status, a hybrid Roman culture developed. Four provincial capitals (Carnuntum, Viminacium, Sirmium, and Aquincum) became important cities. Local people, Roman soldiers, merchants, and slaves rubbed shoulders. Roman-style houses used local stone or pottery, showing the cultural mix.

Temples incorporated local deities, and inscriptions mixed Latin and local names. Markets in towns like these grew into important markets. Crafted goods, metals, grain, and such were exchanged. These markets also served as information hubs where unofficial diplomacy took place. While called ‘towns,’ these centers were really contact zones. Unlike other provinces, Rome’s imposed culture did not take hold as deeply. Each culture adopted what benefited or seemed compatible. For example, Roman street grids existed, but with non-Imperial building styles.

The Second Dacian War (105 CE – 106 CE) had crushed Dacia, the last Danubian power. Things did settle down. But Rome stationed more legions here than in other frontier regions. They maintained peace and served as recruitment tools. These provinces provided a high proportion of the Empire’s auxiliaries. Native cavalry and light infantry plugged gaps; Rome had neither. Sarmatians, Goths, Dacians, and other groups took up Roman military service.

Enlisting meant prestige, steady pay, and eventually Roman citizenship. By the 3rd century, this system supplied future emperors such as Aurelian and Diocletian. 

Rome worked hard to defend the Danube River and its provinces. Besides the heavy infantry legions, Rome’s engineers built bridges (such as Trajan’s Bridge), roads, and fortified lines. This systematic, practical approach also worked in Britain, North Africa, and on the Rhine.

Not All is Well

Despite the Danube’s strengths, cracks started with the Marcomannic Wars (CE 166-180). Pressure here until roughly CE 450 only grew. Continual assaults or large migrations overwhelmed the Danube garrisons, breaking deep into imperial territory. The Gothic migrations (376CE) became a bungled affair. Thousands settled down but did not assimilate. The true collapse of the Danube frontier occurred at the 378 CE Battle of Adrianople. The crushed eastern army could do little to stop successive invasions. 

With the Danube River voided, the region’s importance ceased. It could no longer absorb pressure or help the Empire. Where an organized system existed, now stood only a fragmented expanse.

During the reign of Augustus, the Roman writer Virgil composed the Aeneid as a mythological origin story of the Roman people. He connected Rome to the legendary Trojan War through the migration of the hero Aeneas from fallen Troy to Italy. After Aeneas arrived in Italy, war broke out between various Italic tribes. In his account of this conflict, Virgil includes the story of an otherwise unimportant character, a warrior named Arruns who had the single distinction of killing an Italic queen named Camilla. As a result, the goddess Diana sent an avenging nymph, Opis, to kill him. Who are these minor characters in the Aeneid, and why did Virgil choose to tell their story?

Who Was Opis, the Avenging Nymph?

Out of the two characters, Arruns and Opis, we know far more about the latter. Opis appears in several records predating Virgil’s Aeneid, including at least dating back as far as the 5th century BCE. The record in question is Herodotus’ The Histories. He wrote about the island of Delos and how this was supposedly the birthplace of the twin gods Apollo and Artemis. In this account, he describes how several maidens from the mysterious northern land of Hyperborea had visited. He wrote:

“The maidens, I say, have this honor paid them by the dwellers in Delos: and the same people say that Arge and Opis also, being maidens, came to Delos, passing from the Hyperboreans by the same nations which have been mentioned, even before Hyperoche and Laodike. These last, they say, came bearing for Eileithuia the tribute which they had laid upon themselves for the speedy birth, but Arge and Opis came with the divinities themselves.” (Herodotus, The Histories 4.35)

Herodotus then goes on to explain that hymns were sung in honor of Arge and Opis. What this account tells us is that Opis was a maiden from Hyperborea and that she traveled to Delos and was associated with the goddess Artemis, known by the Romans, including Virgil, as Diana. What do we learn from later records?

A Companion of Artemis (Diana)

Later records provide the information that Opis became one of the eternal companions of Artemis. Evidently, she became a nymph after her death, although no surviving source describes this actually happening. In any case, we find the following reference to Opis in the Bibliotheca of Pseudo-Apollodorus:

“But Orion was killed, as some say, for challenging Artemis to a match at quoits, but some say he was shot by Artemis for offering violence to Opis, one of the maidens who had come from the Hyperboreans.” (Psuedo-Apollodorus, Bibliotheca 1.4.5)

This shows that Opis came to be very important to Artemis, given that she killed Orion to protect her. The fact that it is the same Opis and not merely someone of the same name is indicated by the connection to Artemis. It is also shown by the direct reference to her being one of the maidens who had come from Hyperborea. However, whether this brief story about Orion is set before or after Opis had become a nymph companion of Artemis, we cannot say. A later account, the Dionysiaca by the Roman writer Nonnus, appears to explicitly present Opis as a nymph. He wrote:

“The goddess [Artemis] leapt out of her chariot; Oupis took the bow from her shoulders, and Hekaerge the quiver.” (Nonnus, Dionysiaca 48.302)

This reference presents Opis, or Oupis, as a companion of Artemis who fought for her, alongside other nymphs.

What We Know About Arruns

Now that we have identified Opis, who is Arruns. Unlike in the case of Opis, there is no obvious reference to Arruns before Virgil’s Aeneid. He seems to have been a character invented by Virgil, or at least not famous enough for any prior mention to have survived.

Even in the Aeneid, we do not learn much about him. Virgil merely tells us that he was a youth and describes him as “a man whose life was owed to the Fates.” Given the preceding line in the Aeneid, it is likely that Arruns was an Etruscan warrior. His identity as an Etruscan is strongly supported by his very name, “Arruns,” which was a praenomen used by several early Etruscan figures. In any case, he was on the side of the Trojans.

Virgil’s account also reveals something fascinating about Arruns as a person. He was completely focused on killing Camilla, the powerful queen of the Volsci, yet interestingly, he makes it clear that he is not interested in glory. He prayed to Apollo for success in his efforts to kill her, yet he includes the following remarks:

“I seek no prize, no trophy of the girl’s defeat, no spoils: some other deed will bring me fame: only let this dreadful scourge fall wounded under my blow.”

This suggests that Arruns was a warrior who was truly, fully devoted to the cause of the Trojans. Given that the Aeneid later shows that he was terrified of his actions against Camilla, there can hardly be another reason for wanting to kill her. This is supported by his reference to her as a “scourge.”

Opis, Arruns, and Camilla

The confrontation between Opis and Arruns takes place in Book 11 of the Aeneid. This section of Virgil’s poem describes a war between the Trojans, with the Etruscans as their allies, and several Latin tribes. It broke out due to Aeneas taking Lavinia, daughter of King Latinus, as a bride, despite Turnus of the Rutuli expecting to marry her.

Aeneas was the leader of the Trojans, while his ally Tarchon was leading the Etruscans. Fighting against them were the Latin Rutuli and also the Italic Volsci. Turnus was the leader of the Rutuli, while the Volsci were led by a queen named Camilla. She is depicted as a ferocious and powerful warrior, akin to the famous Amazons of Greek mythology.

As Virgil explains, Camilla was a favorite of the goddess Diana. This goddess pointed out Camilla to Opis from their heavenly abode and gave her important instructions. She told Opis the following:

“I wish she had not been swept up into such warfare, trying to challenge the Trojans: she would be my darling, and one of my company still. Come now, nymph, since bitter fate drives her on, slip from the sky and seek out the Latin borders, where with evil omen they join in sad battle. Take these weapons and draw an avenging arrow from the quiver, and if anyone violates her sacred flesh by wounding her, Trojan or Italian, pay me with their equal punishment in blood.”
In this passage, Opis is very clearly presented as a nymph, not a human Hyperborean maiden. Diana tells her to enact vengeance on anyone who harms Camilla.

The Death of Camilla and Opis’ Vengeance

As the ensuing battle unfolds, Virgil describes Camilla powerfully waging war against her opponents. At the same time, Arruns quietly and discreetly followed behind her, not letting her out of his sight. Then, at an opportune moment, he raised his spear and prayed to Apollo. It is at this moment that he implored the god to give him victory over Camilla. He also asked to have a safe return to his own city afterwards. The text then notes that Apollo decided to grant him the first part of his supplication, but not the second.

Arruns’ spear flew through the air and struck Camilla in the chest, the metal tip getting stuck between her ribs. As Camilla’s life rapidly slipped away and the Volscian warriors rushed to her aid, Arruns slipped away into the turmoil of the battle. Here, Virgil strongly emphasises Arruns’ fear. He compares Arruns’ retreat to that of a wolf that has killed a shepherd and then flees before it can be attacked by others.

Opis, meanwhile, was watching this unfold from a nearby mountain. Upon seeing Camilla fall at the hands of Arruns, she promised to avenge her. At this point, Virgil’s description of Opis becomes more glorious than his former description.

“Here the loveliest of goddesses, after swift flight, first set foot and caught sight of Arruns from the high tumulus. When she saw him shining in armor, swollen with pride, she cried: ‘Why go so far away? Turn your steps here, come this way to destruction, and receive your reward, worthy of Camilla. May even you not die by Diana’s weapons?’”
Opis is described not merely as a nymph, but as a goddess; even the “loveliest of goddesses.” In the following line, she is called a “Thracian goddess.” At this, the vengeful deity drew her bow and shot Arruns, killing him on the spot.

Possible Origins of the Story

Is this all we can say about Opis and Arruns? It is worth remembering that Virgil wrote his account in the 1st century BCE, many centuries after these events supposedly took place. Furthermore, Virgil was writing an epic poem, not a historical narrative. He borrowed from other sources selectively and also invented for the purpose of his narrative. Could Virgil have found the story of Arruns in existing sources?

Virgil includes a poetic narrative about an Etruscan king named Tarchon, who fought against the Rutuli and the Volsci. The Etruscan name Tarchon is closely related to the Latin name Tarquinius, leading to the suggestion that Virgil drew on the story of the semi-legendary Etruscan king of Rome, Lucius Tarquinius Superbus, for his account. He was also known to have fought against the Rutilis and the Volsci, including against a leader named Turnus. Of course, Tarquinius supposedly lived centuries after Aeneas, but his story may have inspired Virgil’s narrative.

Could Virgil’s Arruns also have been inspired by a figure from Rome’s later legendary history? Might he have been inspired by Arruns, the youngest son of Tarquinius Superbus? This Arruns is recorded as dying in battle in 509 BCE, the very same year in which Tarquinius is said to have fought against the Rutuli. This is tantalisingly similar to Virgil’s story of the young Arruns dying in battle during Tarchon’s war against the Rutuli. Could the origin of Virgil’s legendary Arruns ultimately lie with this semi-legendary Etruscan prince? The simple answer is that we do not know, but it is a distinct possibility.

The Aeneid is a lengthy poem by the Roman writer Virgil. Composed between 29 and 19 BCE, it was commissioned by Roman Emperor Augustus and reflected the ideology of the Augustan Age. In many ways, it is the Roman answer to Homer’s Odyssey. Like the famous ancient Greek epic, Virgil’s Aeneid is set in the immediate aftermath of the Trojan War. It tells the story of Aeneas, a prince of Troy, leaving his destroyed city and ultimately settling in Italy, where he becomes the forefather of the Romans. But Virgil does much more than just tell a compelling story. He rewrote history for a new age, promoting certain lessons and ideas that underpinned a major political shift.

The Purpose of the Aeneid: Augustan Era Propaganda

Unlike Homer’s two epic poems, the Iliad and the Odyssey, and most other important works of ancient literature, Virgil’s Aeneid was officially commissioned by an imperial ruler, in fact, the first emperor of Rome, Augustus. Hence, in some ways, it was an important literary work by design. It was not simply an expression of Virgil’s own thoughts and feelings on a matter. Rather, Augustus wanted it to be created for a purpose.

The final decades of the 1st century BCE saw the fall of the Roman Republic and the emergence of the Roman Empire. Augustus, as the first emperor, was greatly concerned with promoting Rome’s transformation as a glorious step forward for Rome, ushering in a new era of peace and prosperity that was Rome’s by right. He also wanted to place himself at the center of that narrative. It is within this context that we should understand the Aeneid. Augustus wanted Virgil to create an epic poem that would promote Rome’s greatness and divine destiny as a superpower.

One way in which it did that was by showing how the Romans were descendants of the Trojans, an important nation within Greco-Roman tradition. To be clear, Virgil did not invent this connection. The idea that the Romans were descendants of the Trojans goes back at least as far as the 5th century BCE. However, there were a few competing traditions, and Virgil chose to popularize this particular origin story.

Key Lessons Found in the Aeneid: Morality and Fate

The Aeneid was written to promote certain key lessons to its readers. For instance, it highlights the importance of pietas, the ancient Roman concept of duty to one’s moral, social, religious, and filial obligations. It also promotes the importance of accepting one’s divine destiny over personal desires. Homer’s epics contained similar messages, as heroes who put glory above duty are divinely punished, and the inevitability of fate is highlighted.

In the context of the late 1st century BCE, the Roman Empire was in its infancy. It was important for Augustus to create ways to legitimise and solidify his rule. Just like today, entertainment was profoundly important to the general populace and an excellent conduit to communicate political messages. Therefore, Augustus commissioned Virgil to create a national epic for the Romans in the same vein as the Homeric epics and encouraged him to include key pieces of propaganda in the story to encourage certain beliefs among its audience.

As well as encouraging morality and loyalty to the Roman state, the Aeneid contained the idea that Rome’s rise was predestined by the gods. This justified the conquest and wars—both foreign and civil—that had brought Rome to where it was under Augustus, in fulfillment of its great destiny.

Rewriting History: A New Foundation Myth

Augustus was successful in supplanting the Roman Republic with an imperial system, initially linked specifically to the Julio-Claudian dynasty, but then as an established and accepted form of government. What role Virgil’s work played in transforming the popular psyche to accept this change is unclear, but the success of the venture and the popularity of the work over two millennia suggest it was significant.

The Aeneid was particularly successful in rewriting Rome’s core foundation story. As mentioned, as far back as the 5th century BCE, there were legends that Rome had been founded by Aeneas himself. Other legends from shortly after that time attributed the founding of Rome to a son or grandson of Aeneas named Rhomus, or Romulus. However, there was a chronological problem with this ancient tradition. The Trojan War was generally held to have taken place in approximately 1200 BCE, while Rome was considered to have been founded in the 8th century BCE. In the Aeneid, Virgil “fixed” the tradition to deal with these inconsistencies. Interestingly, he presented the same story as his contemporary Livy, whom Augustus also patronized.

In their accounts, Aeneas was not the direct founder of Rome, since this did not make sense with the timeline, but he led the Trojans to Italy and settled there. It was then Romulus, a much later descendant who lived at the right time, who founded Rome. Conveniently, as Virgil tells us in his poem, Augustus, as a member of the Julian gens, was a descendant of both Aeneas and Romulus.

Due to the Aeneid’s popularity and possibly other efforts to promote this version of the story, older traditions about the foundation of Rome were, effectively, completely forgotten.

A National Epic

That the Aeneid was highly influential is clear in the fact that it quickly came to be considered one of the greatest pieces of ancient literature. Within just two centuries of being written, it became an essential piece of literature for anyone desiring a complete education. It was studied by students across the empire. Even after the fall of Rome in the 5th century, people still held it in high regard.

The influence of the Aeneid was even felt as far afield as Dark Age Britain, among both the Britons and the Anglo-Saxons. For example, the Aeneid was quoted by Gildas, a British monk of the 6th century. The Oxford History of Classical Reception in English Literature notes that it is “the only poetic text that we can be absolutely certain that he knew.” Among the Anglo-Saxons, we can see the influence of Virgil in Beowulf, the earliest surviving piece of English literature, dating perhaps to the 8th century.

Many of the most famous subsequent works of literature within Western civilisation, such as the Historia Regum Britanniae, The Divine Comedy, and Paradise Lost, were likewise strongly influenced by the Aeneid. Without doubt, its impact continues to be felt even today.

The Aeneid and the Story of Rome

Augustus was faced with the task of reconstructing the Roman world. Rather than bulldozing over tradition, an approach that arguably got his adopted father Julius Caesar killed, he decided to adapt tradition and use it to establish his new position as sole ruler of the Roman state. This went beyond political moves, such as serving as pontifex maximus (chief priest) and wielding tribunica potestas (the power of the Tribune of the Plebs to both propose and veto laws).

Augustus promoted the idea that Rome was chosen by the gods to be a civilizing superpower and that its conquests were Rome fulfilling that divine destiny. He also positioned himself as divinely favored by the gods and chosen to lead Rome to that destiny, something which made sense within Roman religion and culture. The story in the Aeneid sews this idea into the story of Rome from its foundation, with Aeneas chosen by the gods to lead the surviving Trojans to Italy, where they would establish Rome to fulfil that destiny. Conveniently, Augustus could position himself as a direct descendant of Aeneas, fulfilling that destiny given by the gods before Rome was even founded.

It is unclear how much Augustus directed what Virgil wrote, or if the author was just responding to propaganda that was being heavily circulated at the time of writing. But the result was a new version of the history of Rome that set the foundations for the Augustan Age and changed the narrative of Roman history for millennia to come. Virgil would probably have been gratified to know that we are still reading his words today.

In ancient Greece, miasma was the concept of spiritual pollution, usually caused by the improper spilling of blood. Many Greek myths deal with “blood guilt,” spiritual pollution, and the consequences for those affected. In stories from Greek mythology, those affected by miasma were hounded by the Erinyes (Furies), goddesses who hunted murderers. The trilogy of plays by Aeschylus titled The Oresteia follows Orestes, son of Agamemnon, as he attempts to resolve the blood guilt curse that afflicts his family. Forced to kill his mother for murdering his father, Orestes is afflicted with miasma and driven into exile lest his pollution spread to those around him. As well as a spiritual state, in ancient Athens, miasma was a practice used to maintain social order and justice.

What Is Miasma?

Miasma was a spiritual pollution that afflicted those who had improperly spilled blood. Various types of murder, both premeditated and unpremeditated, accidental killings, and suicide were considered improper. The root of the word miasma comes from the Greek word meaning “to stain,” and those afflicted by miasma were thought to be stained with the blood of the person they killed. They were said to have “blood on their hands.” Like blood, the stain could spread to anyone it touched, regardless of whether they knew of it or not.

Anyone who interacted with someone stained with miasma would also require purification. Miasma was the outrage of the victims and of their families for the dishonor done to them. This outrage called the attention of the Erinyes to hound the murderer. As can be seen in plays like Aeschylus’ Libation Bearers, the Erinyes caused madness and misfortune for those they pursued.

Unlike in the plays, however, where miasma always stemmed entirely from a crime, in the daily life of the Athenians, miasma was a state applied by society. All people participated in shunning the afflicted individual. It was a mechanism by which society as a whole brought attention to a terrible deed that needed to be redressed, whether by the one who committed the crime or by society itself. Anyone accused or convicted of murder was barred from entering sacred spaces for fear that doing so would endanger the entire city. If they did, anyone could kill them and have it deemed “justified,” since they were protecting the health of the city.

In this way, miasma was a means of ensuring justice and social order. It was also a way lawyers could prove, or disprove, the credibility of their accusations. In the Tetralogies attributed to Antiphon, documents describe three hypothetical homicide cases. The defendant asserts that he is not guilty since he had to travel by sea to get to the court proceedings, and his safe passage was proof that he was not afflicted with miasma. If he were guilty, he would have met with misfortune on the way. In circumstances where a murder was “justified,” the acquitted defendant still had to be ritually purified because they had spilled blood, but legally they were innocent.

Miasma Demanded Vengeance

While miasma was the pollution that affected the murderer, the concept of poine, or vengeance, related to the family of the deceased. It was the vengeance that the victims were owed against the perpetrator, and law courts were a means of facilitating that vengeance.

Ancient Greece abided by a strong honor system, so it was up to the family of the killed individual to bring charges against the killer. By having a member of their family killed, the honor of the entire family was defiled since one of their members was deprived of a life that was rightfully theirs. To not bring charges against the killer, or to need someone outside of the family to bring those charges, was seen as another dishonor. It was the family’s duty to avenge their slain kin.

Justified Killings

There were a few types of justified killing, some of which are still considered justifiable in modern legal systems. These included killing in self-defense or in defense of a family member or property, or killing a slave who had killed his master. This would be enacted by a member of the slain person’s family, and the guilty slave would need to be killed, else the family member would invite pollution onto themselves.

Physicians whose patients died while undergoing treatment were also pure. This was classified as a special class of accidental homicide. While accidental homicide usually would require purification, physicians having to undergo ritual purification every time a patient died would severely impede their practice.

Greek Murder Courts

In ancient Athenian law, there were several separate courts that dealt with blood guilt. Premeditated, or first-degree, murder was tried in the Areopagus; unpremeditated, or second-degree, murder was tried in the Palladion; and “justifiable” homicide was tried in the Delphinion.

Furthermore, people accused of unintentional homicide, or manslaughter charges, who had gone into exile and had not been reconciled with the family of the deceased, were tried in the Phreatto. These trials happened on the beach, with the accused sitting in a boat in the sea as they were forbidden from setting foot on Athenian soil lest their pollution infect the city. There was also the Prytaneion Court that dealt with unknown murderers, animals, or objects that caused the death of a person.

The Sword Did It

Since the spilling of blood was a crime that afflicted one with miasma, what happened when someone was killed by accident or committed suicide? The answer is that blame was not placed upon the victim, but instead on the object. At the Prytaneion, trials were held against objects or animals that caused someone’s death, thereby becoming polluted. The trial wasn’t necessary to determine a crime, but the court acted as a way for the family to express their outrage at the death of one of their members and for the victim to receive justice.

The object or animal stood trial, then was cast out of the city as a human murderer might be exiled before or after their conviction. In some cases, the object was burned, as with nooses. In the case of suicide by sword, the hand that caused the death was removed from the body and disposed of.

Methods of Purification

When someone was afflicted with miasma, they needed to be purified else their pollution would spread to the rest of the community. In order to do this, they supplicated themselves at a hearth or at the threshold of a sacred space, remaining silent with their head bowed. A priest or community leader would then wash and anoint them, then lead them out into the street where passersby were also silent and sometimes covered their faces in recognition of the murderer’s unnatural state.

The murderer was sometimes washed with water, but more commonly, their hands were sprinkled with blood from an animal. The logic was that “like” removed “like.” The tainted blood of the murder was removed and replaced by the sacrificial blood of the animal. Purification rituals were then followed by rites of appeasement. These rites were directed at underworld deities or to Zeus, the guardian of social life.

Aeschylus’ Oresteia

In a trilogy of tragic plays by Aeschylus, the concept of miasma was taken to its natural extreme. How must a son act when his mother has murdered his father? Patricide and matricide were grave sins, but so was to let the killer of one’s father go free without enacting vengeance. This was what Orestes, the son of Mycenaean king Agamemnon, grappled with.

In the first play, Agamemnon, the titular character, returns to Mycenae after the Trojan War, where his wife, Clytemnestra, is waiting. She is angered by the sacrifice of their daughter, Iphigenia, and plots to murder her husband to avenge her. The play closes with Agamemnon’s murder.

The second play, Libation Bearers, followed Orestes after he learned of what happened to his father. Clytemnestra was haunted by the angry spirit of Agamemnon, so she tried to placate it by sending libation bearers to his tomb. That same day, Orestes returned to Argos, having been commanded by Apollo to avenge his father, lest the Erinyes haunt him as well. Orestes killed his mother as justice for his father, yet having committed matricide, he still became haunted by the Erinyes.

The third play, Eumenides, had Orestes hunted by the Erinyes, who sought vengeance for Clytemnestra. Despite having been ritually purified by Apollo, they still hunted him because he had killed kin. He fled to Athens, where he pleaded with Athena to help him. She set up a trial for him on the Areopagus, judged by twelve Athenians citizens and Athena herself. The Erinyes accused him of murder and proved his culpability by the very fact that they were able to follow him. Apollo argued that the killing of his mother was justice for the murder of his father and, therefore, necessary. By the end of the trial, the jury was evenly split and the decision fell to Athena. She ruled in favor of Orestes, and that from then on, all such disputes were to be settled in court rather than personally as had been done up to that point.

Throughout the plays, we see the corrupting influence of miasma, the rage of and for the victims, and the reason its influence must be purified. Without purification, the cycle of violence would continue and afflict descendants until the entire family had been destroyed.

Selected Bibliography

Hewitt, J. W. (1910) “The Necessity of Ritual Purification after Justifiable Homicide,” Transactions and Proceedings of the American Philological Association, 41, 99–113.

Naiden, F. S. (2015) “The Sword Did It: A Greek Explanation For Suicide,” The Classical Quarterly, 65(1), 85–95.

Panagiotou, S. (1974) “Plato’s Euthyphro and the Attic Code on Homicide,” Hermes, 102(3), 419–437.

Sidwell, K. (1996) “Purification and Pollution in Aeschylus’ Eumenides,” The Classical Quarterly, 46(1), 44–57.

Visser, M. (1984) “Vengeance and Pollution in Classical Athens,” Journal of the History of Ideas, 45(2), 193–206.

In ancient times through to the present, war has been fought in many realms, from land to sea, and in the air. From the dawn of civilization, the ocean has played host to some of the most devastating engagements, where entire fleets clashed in an effort to gain supremacy. These salty battlefields heard the screams of sailors, the creaking and snapping of wood, and the crackling blazes of boats on fire.

From the whistle of arrows to the thunder of cannon, here is how naval warfare changed from triremes to galleons.

The Trireme and the Age of the Oar

In the world of Greek antiquity, naval warfare was based on the design of sleek ships built for speed. Triremes, so named for their three banks of oars, were built of lightweight wood and were highly maneuverable. At their prow was a heavy bronze ram, designed to sink enemy ships by punching a hole below the waterline. The trireme evolved from the earlier pentekontor, which had fifty oars and room for cargo and passengers. The pentekontor’s main purpose was to ferry troops for coastal raids and boarding actions, while its ram came in useful if the opportunity arose.

The bireme followed, with more oars, split into two banks, and reduced room for cargo, eventually followed by the trireme, with 170 oars, purpose-built for sinking enemy ships like a guided missile. Unlike the pentekontor and the bireme, the trireme’s main focus was its ram, and it was a ship purpose-built for combat rather than with any dual-purpose.

It is difficult to determine exactly where these ships originated, with some historians purporting the Egyptians or the Phoenicians to have invented them. It was the Greeks, however, who made these warships really famous. By the end of the sixth century BCE, Persia, the superpower of its day, was on its way to building a formidable navy and was able to field a massive fleet of triremes, providing impetus to Greek city-states to do the same if they wished to resist Persian expansion into the Aegean.

Administering massive fleets in battle required the skilled use of tactics on a grand scale. The Greeks employed two primary forms of attack called the diekplous and the periplous. The diekplous involved a column of ships in single file attempting to penetrate the enemy line. By sailing through the enemy line, ships would also attempt to plow into banks of enemy oars, snapping them, thus leaving enemy ships crippled. Once this was achieved, the attacker could then circle around and attack the enemy from the rear and the flanks. Periplous involved outflanking the enemy by line abreast, targeting the weak flanks, and attempting encirclement. Both tactics could be countered by employing the kiklos (cycle) or hedgehog formation, which involved forming a circle of ships that presented no weak flanks to the enemy.

Of particular note during this era of naval warfare was the Battle of Salamis, which involved over a thousand ships, and where the Greeks soundly defeated the Persians, forcing the latter to abandon their campaign of conquering Greece.

During the Hellenistic era and the era of Rome’s primacy, triremes evolved to be bigger and more complex. The prefix on the names of these ships was determined by the number of rowers per vertical file or section. Quadremes (four), quinqueremes (five), hexaremes (six, etc.), septiremes, octereis, enneres, and deceres all sailed the Mediterranean. Even larger ships were built, but likely were not used in combat.

After the fall of Carthage, Rome’s dominance of the Mediterranean became apparent, and after the Battle of Actium, which neutered Greek and Egyptian power, Rome no longer needed a fleet that was intended for large-scale engagement. Larger ships, however, were kept on as flagships and troop transports, but the focus shifted back to smaller, more maneuverable vessels, like the liburna, for patrol and anti-piracy operations. The liburna was essentially a bireme galley, typically having 18 oars on each side.

Transition: Dromons and Cogs

By the end of the ancient era, the dynamic of naval warfare was changing, spurred on by technological advancements that made the trireme and its direct descendants obsolete. Grappling hooks and boarding actions required more stable vessels, and ship design evolved to take this into account.

The dromon evolved out of the Roman liburna, and sported a full deck and a triangular or lateen sail. The ram was dispensed with, likely due to innovations that made ship hulls more resistant to ramming, but this was replaced with a spur, which was perfect for crushing oars, thus crippling the propulsion of enemy vessels.

A good example of dromons being used in combat was the siege of Thessaloniki, in which the Saracens besieged the Byzantine city from the water. They did this by lashing their dromons together and using the fore and aft castles as siege towers, assaulting the walls of the cities with troops, and hurling projectiles.

In other instances, the dromon served as the platform for the use of “Greek fire,” a combustible liquid that was essentially the predecessor to modern napalm, although the exact composition of Greek fire remains unknown. A siphon mounted on the front of Byzantine dromons acted as a flamethrower, engulfing enemy ships with sticky, burning fuel that was almost impossible to extinguish.

For trade and transport, round-hulled ships known as cogs were in widespread use. These vessels saw introduction around the 10th century in northern Europe. The primary purpose was as cargo ships, and these boats plied the waters of the North and Baltic seas. Naval combat was rare in this part of the world, and when needed, cogs could be outfitted with fore and aft castles to turn cogs into combat vessels. They evolved from Frisian trading craft similar to Viking knarrs with their flat-bottomed hulls, and were designed for use in shallow coastal waters, although they were quite capable of venturing further out into the sea.

Gunpowder: A Fundamental Shift in Naval Combat

The introduction of gunpowder signaled a shift in military tactics not just on land but at sea, where it would have a devastating effect. Early usage of gunpowder on ships came in the form of breech-loading guns generally used for deck clearing rather than sinking enemy vessels. Early artillery found a place on cogs, as these ships were sturdy enough to carry primitive cannon as well as transport troops.

Evidence for this comes from 1338 in the Battle of Arnemuiden, in which the English fought against the French. The English cog Christopher mounted three cannon and a handgonne. Later in the century, cannon saw use in Asia during the Battle of Lake Poyang in China in 1363, and the Battle of Jinpo in 1380, in which the Koreans, armed with just 80 ships and equipped with cannon, defeated a Japanese pirate fleet of 500 ships.

Ship design thus evolved to take into account the need for cannon as they became the primary weapon through which naval action would take place. Initially, cannon were heavy and unreliable, and used mainly for demoralizing the enemy, but as technology improved, it became clear that the power they were capable of projecting was unmatched by any other ship-borne weapons. Eventually, warships became dedicated platforms, bristling with banks of cannon that could inflict incredible damage, not just on other vessels, but on shore defenses and settlements.

The Age of Sail

Originally, guns were mounted on the forecastle and sterncastle of warships, which aligned with the tactic of attacking head-on. They fired down at enemy ships, but their size and firepower made the ship top-heavy. This dynamic evolved quickly with more cannon being introduced to warships. To improve stability and to maximize damage, cannon placement was shifted over time, and placed lower down on the ships, and was done so in banks along the side.

Carracks were large ships designed as transport and cargo vessels. They were large enough to sport a significant number of cannon, and continued to evolve in form. Their descendant was the galleon. One of the most prominent carracks that exemplified this transition was the English Mary Rose, launched in 1511, and sunk in 1545 at the Battle of Solent, in action against the French. When it was sunk, the ship carried a total of 91 guns, including cannon and anti-personnel pieces—a clear indication of the evolution of the broadside tactic which would dominate naval tactics for centuries to come.

Developed in Spain and Portugal, galleons evolved from carracks and were large multi-decked ships designed for cargo transport and for war, although their primary focus was for combat. Their size meant they could carry many cannon, and they were pressed into service during the Age of Exploration from the 16th to the 17th centuries. They were also sleeker and more maneuverable than their carrack forebears.

During the age of sail, the broadside became the major tactic of naval combat. Ships presented their sides to the enemy vessels and opened fire with numerous cannon, creating a short and single attack that could cripple an enemy vessel in a single blow (if the ship was weak enough), but more often than not, the broadside was designed to weaken the enemy ship through successive waves of broadsides, smashing holes in the hull, ripping the sails and rigging, and causing casualties.

Whole fleets could form up in parallel lines and present volleys of broadsides, and thus naval combat evolved into an artillery duel in many contexts. Relying on broadside tactics meant that ships had to be mobile enough to pull off the maneuver, as well as evade enemy ships trying to do the same. Ramming and boarding gave way to long-range combat and strategic positioning. Being able to pull up right next to a ship, within grappling distance, and unleash a broadside at close range was a rare occasion, but when it did happen, it was completely devastating.

In 1805, the established tactics were changed from ships forming lines and pummeling each other with cannon. Outnumbered and outgunned, Admiral Nelson won a great victory for the British against the combined French and Spanish fleet at Trafalgar, with a tactic that was somewhat reminiscent of diekplous, although the weapons, the ship-to-ship combat, and the overall effect that was required had changed dramatically from the triremes that employed the strategy so effectively 2,000 years earlier. Instead of smashing oars (which were no longer present on boats), Nelson’s forces broke through the line at two places and cut the French and Spanish fleet in three, causing chaos and loss of cohesion. Nelson did away with the tactic of parallel lines pummeling each other with cannon, and instead “crossed the T,” a tactic which saw widespread adoption in the following decades.

For centuries, cannon broadsides were the hallmark of naval combat, but ship evolution and naval warfare did not stop evolving. Guns became more accurate. Wood gave rise to steel. Aircraft became a factor, and missiles, radar, and sonar were introduced, while submarines silently hunted their prey, all fundamentally changing how ship-to-ship combat was conducted.

Almost two centuries after Alexander the Great’s death, Greek kings ruled vast swathes of northwest India, vying for control and influence among themselves and with the surrounding Indian principalities. Today, they are known as the Indo-Greeks to separate them from their Greco-Bactrian counterparts in the north, in modern-day Afghanistan. From these endless conflicts, one king, Menander, rose as the most powerful and most well-known among them, so important that he even appears in a Buddhist sacred text, to which he gave his name, the Milindapanha—“The Questions of King Menander.”

The King and the Monk

When it comes to the reigns of most Indo-Greek kings, we get our information from coins: a name, a profile, and little more. Menander’s name, however, reached Greek and Roman historians and geographers in the far west, such as Plutarch, Strabo, and Gnaeus Pompeius Trogus. Through them, we catch a glimpse of the power and influence of this king (reigned c. 165–130 BCE).

Strabo mentions that he subdued more tribes in India than even Alexander, going further than the great conqueror did (Strabo’s Geographica, XI, 1). Justin, quoting from Pompeius Trogus, refers to him as one of the “kings of India” (Prologue to Book XLI), a potential indication of the immensity of his realm.

In the meantime, Buddhism, a young religion at this point still, was gaining adherents across the subcontinent and beyond. Many monasteries were founded across the various realms, and traveling monks brought with them Buddha’s word. One of them, Nagasena, traveled to Sagala (modern-day Sialkot, Pakistan), the capital of Menander’s Indo-Greek empire, in “the country of the Yonakas” (the Pali rendition of “Ionians” to refer to the Greeks) (Book I, 2). His objective? Converting the great king to Buddhism.

A Dialogue Among Scholars

The monk was brought before Menander, whom he recognized as wise and righteous, a warrior-king but also a philosopher. Nagasena only agreed to speak with him on equal terms, as two scholars. With the Greek ruler having agreed, a dialogue began, centered around the pointed questions of King Menander, who aimed to test the integrity of the Buddhist religion, and the answers of the monk. The stakes were high indeed; if the king was satisfied, he would happily convert.

Through this back and forth between king and monk, we learn important details about the Indo-Greek kingdoms themselves, rendering the Milindapanha a valuable historical source in its own right. There is mention of a council of “five hundred Yonakas,” which might have been a body of Indo-Greek nobles advising the king, and frequent descriptions of Menander’s vast hosts of war elephants, chariots, spearmen, and cavalry (Book I, 10-11).

The king asked many questions. Some concerned the religion’s founder: if the Buddha had entered final Nirvana and passed on, what would be the point in revering someone who no longer existed? Nagasena answered that it was the Buddha’s virtues and teachings (the Dhamma) that still inspired people to live well, like the heat from a flame that had now gone out, but still warmed the world (Book IV, 1).

Others were on Buddhism’s central concepts, like karma and reincarnation: since a person changes over the course of their lifetime, could they be held responsible at the end of it as the same person who committed the errors in their youth? Nagasena compared life to the different stages of milk: curd, butter, and ghee, and answered that identity is the change, not a permanent thing, implying that one is judged by one’s actions all throughout their lives (Book II, 2. 1).

A Greco-Buddhist King!

Nagasena answered question after question by the sharp-witted Menander. In the end, the king was satisfied: “The puzzles, worthy of a Buddha to solve, have you made clear […] May the venerable Nagasena accept me as […] a true convert from today onwards as long as life shall last!” (Book VII, 7, 21). Accordingly, King Menander built a monastery called “Milinda Vihara,” abdicated his kingdom and became a hermit!

The historical reality supports some of this account. King Menander had coins minted with Greek on one side and Pali on the other, with images of the Dharmachakra, the “wheel of the law,” and a central symbol of Buddhism, a clear endorsement of the religion in his domains.

Plutarch describes him upon his death, not as a hermit, but as a king on campaign. He mentions illness at a war-camp, and how the cities of his kingdom that fought over his ashes, and finally relented to their being divided among them, raising monuments to house them in each city (Moralia, 821D-E). When the Buddha achieved Nirvana, his ashes were also divided among his followers and housed in newly-built stupas to avoid infighting, indicating that Menander’s subjects saw the king as a key figure of Buddhist worship and emulated the Buddha’s own example.

Bibliography: 

Baums, S., “Greek or Indian? The Questions of Menander and onomastic patterns in early Gandhāra,” in Ray, H. P., (ed.), Buddhism and Gandhara, (London, 2017), pp. 33-46.

Halkias, G., “When the Greeks Converted the Buddha: Asymmetrical Transfers of Knowledge in Indo-Greek Cultures,” in Wick, P., Rabens, V. (eds.), Religions and Trade, (Leiden, 2014), pp. 65-115.

Rhys Davids, T. W. (trans.), The Questions of King Milinda: Parts I & II, The Sacred Books of the East, vol. XXXVI, (New York, 1890-1894).

In 256 CE, Shapur I led an invasion of Roman Syria and besieged the strategic fortress-city of Dura Europos, located on the southwestern bank of the Euphrates, near the modern village of Salhiyé, in Syria. The Sasanian attackers used tunnels to undermine the walls of the fortress, and the Roman defenders dug countermines. In one of these tunnels, traces of toxic gases were found that killed 19 Roman defenders, making it one of the first recorded uses of chemical warfare in history.

Dura Europos: Founding & Early History

Dura Europos was founded by the first Seleucid king, Seleucus I Nicator (358-283 BCE), around the year 300 BCE as a fortress along the southwestern bank of the Euphrates to monitor and control the trade routes going from east to west and the communication lines between the major cities of Antioch and Seleucia, which were also founded around the same time. It quickly grew in importance and was expanded in the 2nd century BCE along the Hippodamian model.

The city was captured by the Parthians in 113 BCE and lost its importance as a fortress along the Euphrates. The Parthians imported many new inhabitants, which swelled the population of Dura Europos.

The Romans later gained permanent control of the city during the Roman-Parthian War of 161-166 CE under the emperor Lucius Verus. Under Septimius Severus, the city became an important center in the region, being the easternmost settlement on the Roman frontier with the Persians, and it grew in size and importance, with a population ranging from 5,000 to 15,000.

Context of the Siege

In 224 CE, a Persian prince from southern Iran by the name of Ardashir revolted against the Parthian ruler and successfully took his place, founding what would become the Sasanian Empire, which lasted until the 7th century CE. This new dynasty was more aggressive toward Rome than the Parthians and invaded multiple times.

During almost the entirety of the Third Century Crisis, the Sasanians and the Romans were at war, with the Sasanians having, for the most part, the upper hand. The Roman emperor Gordian III led a disastrous campaign against Shapur I, in which he died, and his successor Philip the Arab had to pay 500,000 denarii to the Sasanian king to allow him to return to the Roman Empire.

In 250 CE, Shapur I, the son of Ardashir, began an invasion of Roman territory and completely annihilated a Roman army of around 60,000 at the battle of Barbalissos (252 CE), before moving on to the Syrian capital of Antioch, the third largest city of the Roman Empire, and plundering it (253 CE). Returning home, he decided to besiege the fortress-city of Dura Europos, which had been strengthened to meet the Sasanian threat; the Romans had built a buttress against the exterior walls to strengthen them against artillery attacks, destroying a large section of the city to do so.

The Siege and the Use of Chemical Warfare

No literary source tells us any information about the siege of Dura Europos in 256 CE; we must therefore rely almost entirely on archaeological evidence, which, fortunately, is abundant (the site was even nicknamed the “Pompeii of the desert”). This is in stark contrast with the other major Sasanian siege we know of, the Siege of Amida in 359 by the second Shapur, which is recorded by only one eyewitness, Ammianus Marcellinus.

We do not know the number of soldiers stationed there, nor the names or details of any of the defenders. Debate is still occurring over whether the siege lasted weeks or months. The Sasanians started by building a huge siege ramp composed of solid blocks and paved with fired brick, to try to get over the southern end of the western wall. The Romans reacted by heightening their own city wall and deepening the buttress they had already added. The Sasanians also used siege machines as a part of a multipronged attack.

Meanwhile, both sides dug mines; the Persians were seeking to enter the town and undermine the defences, whereas the Romans wanted to destroy the attackers’ ramp.

The Sasanian attackers dug another tunnel, this time to undermine Tower 19 of the fortress and make a breach to let in the rest of the Sasanian army. The Romans detected it and reacted by digging a countermine. In these tunnels, archaeologists found 20 skeletons, still with their armor. Scholars have come to this conclusion about their death: the Romans dug a tunnel and managed to link with the end of the Sasanian tunnel, just under their defences, which was higher than the rest of the Sasanian mine. Hearing them, the Sasanians used choking fumes, probably sulphur and bitumen, which went up into the Roman tunnel and asphyxiated the Romans.

Afterward, the attackers entered the Roman tunnel and collapsed the entrance using sulphur and bitumen again to start a fire, which killed one Sasanian fighter. They also dragged all the Roman bodies along with their shields and armor to block the entrance, stacking them into a wall.

The Sasanians weren’t the first to use chemical warfare. For example, we know from certain Roman writers that armies were already using choking fumes against their enemies during the Hellenistic era. In the 2nd century BCE, the Romans besieged the city of Ambracia, which was a part of the Aetolian League. The defenders resisted vigorously and used the first instance of a chemical weapon against the Romans.

Livy describes the chemical weapon as follows: “A new device as well, and one easy of execution, was thought out against the Romans who were in the tunnel. They prepared a cask pierced at the bottom, where a pipe of moderate size could be inserted, and likewise an iron pipe and an iron lid for the cask, this lid too being perforated in several places. This cask, filled with light feathers, they placed with its mouth facing the tunnel. They fixed in the holes in the lid the very long spears which they call ‘sarisae,’ so as to keep the enemy at a distance. A light spark of flame, placed among the feathers, they fanned by blowing with a smith’s bellows placed at the mouth of the pipe. Then, since smoke, not merely abundant in quantity, but, even more, unendurable by reason of the vile stench from the burning feathers, had filled the whole tunnel, scarcely anyone was able to remain within it” (Livy, XXXVIII, 7).

Aftermath and Excavations

We do not know how the Sasanians finally broke into the fortress, but we know that the Romans made a final stand in the northern section of the city. Afterward, the city was never rebuilt, even though some evidence suggests activity until the 5th century CE. Much like the stronghold of Masada in Israel, which was besieged and captured by the Romans in 73 CE, the site was not disturbed throughout the centuries, and the local environmental conditions were favorable to the great preservation of the artifacts.

After the siege, the Sasanians invaded the Roman Empire several more times, even taking the Roman emperor Valerian prisoner after his defeat at the Battle of Edessa in 260 CE. The Romans finally regained the upper hand when the ruler of the city-state of Palmyra, Odaenathus, husband of Zenobia (who would later rebel against the Romans and split to form her own state), led some victorious campaigns in the name of Rome against the Sasanians in the 260s CE.

When the historian Ammianus Marcellinus accompanied the emperor Julian in his disastrous campaign against the Sasanians in 363 CE, he described the city of Dura as follows: “After making a march of two days in this manner, we approached the deserted city of Dura, situated on the riverbank. Here so many herds of deer were found, some of which were slain with arrows, others knocked down with heavy oars, that all ate to satiety; but the greater number of the animals, accustomed to rapid swimming, leaped into the river and with a speed that could not be checked escaped to their familiar deserts.” A bit over a century after the Sasanian siege, the only inhabitants left were herds of deer.

A 5th-century Syriac document, the Life of the Martyr Mu’Ain, tells us that a Christian hermit named Benjamin lived in the ruins of Dura Europos during the reign of Shapur II (309-379 CE).

The site was rediscovered in 1885, when the Palmyrene Gate was photographed by John Henry Haynes of the “Wolfe Expedition,” but excavations were only carried out after World War I by French and American teams, initially under Franz Cumont, then Clark Hopkins and Michael Rostovtzeff. Archaeologists have found magnificently preserved buildings there, including a temple for the rites of the cult of Mithras. They have also found some very well-preserved Roman weaponry, including the scale horse armor of a cataphract, an armored cavalryman, and the only known surviving Roman scutum, or shield. Beneath Tower 19, archaeologists discovered scale armor in incredible condition.

The site was added in 1999 and again in 2011 to the “Tentative List” of the UNESCO World Heritage Sites. Unfortunately, between 2011 and 2014, during the Syrian Civil War, Dura Europos was looted and partially destroyed by Islamic State. No further excavations have been carried out in the area. Its fate is much like the ancient city of Palmyra, which was a wealthy city at the junction of multiple commercial routes but was later raided and destroyed by Islamic State during the Syrian Civil War in 2011.

Rome has been sacked numerous times during the long course of its existence. At the beginning of the 5th century CE, it became the target of the Visigoths. How and why this happened were not simply the result of “greedy barbarians,” but the culmination of severe political drama, unfulfilled promises, and intense feelings of injustice and resentment.

The Goths and Rome

Through several centuries of contact with the Roman Empire, the Goths, a Germanic people, were one of several groups of people, beyond Rome’s northern border, who progressed culturally, economically, and technologically as a result of Roman influence. They weren’t, as the popular imagination might suggest, a horde of unwashed, illiterate, and greedy barbarians. Nor were they hell-bent on war and destruction.

In the third century CE, the Goths started launching intermittent invasions of Roman territory, driven by economic need as well as the opportunity to take advantage of a Roman Empire weakened by political crises. In 238 CE, a Dacian tribe called the Carpi razed the town of Histria at the mouth of the Danube, marking the start of a new era of relations between Rome and the people considered barbarians. Pressure from tribes in this region, including the Goths, began pushing the limit of Roman control.

In 251 CE, at the Battle of Abritus, the Romans were soundly defeated, and Emperor Decius as well as his son, Erennius Etruscus, were killed by a Gothic-Scythian coalition. In 267 CE, the Goths and their allies, including the Heruli, raided down the western Black Sea coast and the Aegean, entering Greece and sacking towns and cities, including Athens, Corinth, Argos, and Sparta. The following year (or perhaps 269 CE), the Romans dealt a catastrophic blow to the Gothic invasion at the Battle of Naissus.

The second half of the fourth century brought major turmoil in the form of the Huns. Hoping to escape the wrath of this powerful enemy, a Gothic tribe, the Thervingi, asked to settle within the borders of the Roman Empire. Emperor Valens of the Eastern Roman Empire approved this, as the Goths could provide a source of recruitment for his armies.

However, disaster struck in the form of famine. The Romans refused to give the Goths food or land, and instead forced them to trade their children to avoid starvation. The Romans treated the Goths terribly and refused to live up to their agreement. Justifiably, the Goths revolted. The Gothic War of 376 to 382 CE ensued. At Adrianople in 378 CE, the Goths (the Thervingi and Greuthungi), along with their Alan allies, won a stunning victory against the Romans, in which Emperor Valens was killed.

The terms “Ostrogoth” and “Visigoth” were later inventions, but it was around this time that a separate identity was forged. The Thervingi formed the core of what became known as the Visigoths, while the Greuthungi formed the core of what became known as the Ostrogoths. There were, however, many Greuthungi who formed part of the Visigoth group, so the distinction isn’t clear-cut.

The Rise of Alaric

Into this dynamic, a Thervingian boy named Alaric grew up, often spending time with veterans of the Battle of Adrianople. It is suggested he was born around 370 CE, so he would have been 12 at the time of the battle. This is, however, not known for sure.

Roman campaigns against the Goths slowed in 382 CE with a peace treaty, the first “foedus,” between Rome and the Gothic tribes. By the terms of this treaty, in exchange for peace, the Germanic tribes in the region were to provide troops to fight for the Roman army in separate units. Despite the treaty, the relationship between the Romans and the Goths was still volatile, and it is possible that Alaric had taken military action against the Romans in his younger days.

Nevertheless, Alaric eventually joined the Romans and rose through the ranks to become a renowned and well-respected military leader, although his primary motivation was the well-being of his people. In this, his service to Rome was a means to an end. In 394 CE, at the Battle of Frigidus, Alaric led the Visigoth contingent of around 20,000 soldiers, fighting for Emperor Theodosius against the rebel Eugenius. Theodosius used the Goths to overwhelm the enemy lines, suffering huge casualties in the process. Having been used in such a callous tactic, Alaric and the Visigoths were demonstrably angered.

In 395 CE, after the death of Emperor Theodosius, Alaric left the service of the Roman army, citing Rome’s lack of commitment to the subsidies that were promised to his tribe. He was elected the king of the Visigoths and led his people on a campaign wherein he raided the eastern provinces and even marched on Constantinople, where he was diverted by Roman forces. Alaric then took his forces into Greece in 396 CE and sacked several cities, including Corinth, Megara, Argos, and Sparta. Athens was spared after a ransom was paid by the inhabitants.

The Goths in Italy

Rome recognized the severe danger posed by Alaric and moved their capital from Rome to Ravenna, which was more defensible, in 402 CE. Later in the year, Alaric and his Visigoths invaded the Italian Peninsula, but were driven back by an army led by the famed general, Flavius Stilicho, at the Battle of Pollentia. According to the poet Claudian, who wrote as a propagandist in favor of Stilicho, Alaric’s wife and children were taken hostage, and much of his amassed plunder was seized. Alaric was again defeated at Verona.

Four years later, another Gothic leader, Radagaisus, invaded Italy and was stopped, again by Stilicho. Around this time, Stilicho agreed to recognize Alaric’s title of magister militum (originally bestowed by the Eastern Roman Emperor Arcadius in 397 CE), the highest military rank in the Late Roman Empire. This was done in a bid to gain Alaric as an ally against other barbarian threats that Stilicho faced. The recognition given by the Eastern Roman Empire to Alaric was not readily accepted by the Western Roman Empire due to the fact that Alaric was, after all, a “barbarian.” Stilicho believed in working with this reality rather than rejecting the notion of recognition altogether.

Alaric was promised a subsidy of 4,000 pounds to supply his army, but this was rejected by the senate. In response in 407 CE, he threatened to invade Italy, and he was bought off by Stilicho, who was pressed on other fronts, and who paid him the full amount (payment was finalized in 408 CE). A year later, Stilicho, who favored negotiating with Alaric, was murdered. This left the door open for forces hostile to Alaric and his Goths to take control.

Emperor Honorius, who had ruled under the regency of Stilicho, came under the heavy influence of his minister, Olympius, who was fervently against the Goths and was likely the one responsible for convincing Honorius to kill Stilicho. He was, however, part of a broader anti-barbarian movement in the senate who feared Stilicho was siding with the Goths, in part due to his Vandal descent. With Stilicho gone, not only did Alaric lose legitimacy and hope for a negotiated settlement, but the Romans lost their most capable general.

Suspecting foederati (Barbarian soldiers who fought for Rome) troops to have been in league with Stilicho, Olympius’ men massacred their families, and the foederati that were loyal to Rome instead rallied around Alaric. In 408, they marched on Rome and enforced a blockade, starving the citizens. The Roman citizens eventually paid a huge ransom, including the release of 40,000 Gothic slaves who then joined Alaric.

Over the following year, Honorius reneged on the deal he made with Alaric for lifting the blockade on Rome. Alaric responded by declaring a new emperor, Attalus, and refused to accept the legitimacy of Honorius.

Despite this development, Attalus proved a hindrance to Alaric’s plans, and the latter deposed him and opened negotiations with Honorius again. This period of negotiation, however, was interrupted by an attack from a Gothic-born general named Sarus on Alaric’s men. The cause of this is unknown, but Sarus was an opponent of Alaric, and Alaric assumed the order came from Ravenna, and decided to march on Rome again.

The Sack of Rome

On August 24, Alaric and his army of 40,000 entered Rome by the Salarian Gate, opened, according to some sources, by treachery. Over the course of the next three days, Rome was pillaged, but considerable constraint was shown. Alaric, a Christian, spared the churches and those seeking refuge inside. Instead, the Goths focused their attention on looting pagan temples and the homes of the rich. The wealthy citizens were the main target; the Aventine was a chaotic spectacle as the Goths and their allies scoured homes, taking whatever riches they could find. Some public buildings were also burned, although this did not characterize the overall nature of the sacking. After three days, the Goths marched out of Rome, heavy with plunder and captives.

Compared with other sackings of Rome, the one led by Alaric was relatively mild, yet it had profound implications on history, marking a significant point in the decline of Rome and the shift towards the Middle Ages.

The Aftereffects of the Sack of Rome

Alaric’s campaign didn’t end with the capture of Rome, and he continued his march down the Italian Peninsula. He planned to take his army to Roman North Africa, but he died of an illness shortly after entering Calabria and was apocryphally buried in the Busentinus River. Surviving the death of their leader, the Visigoth army migrated to Spain, marking the start of the Visigoth Kingdom in the Iberian Peninsula.

An apocryphal story from the 6th-century historian Procopius of Caesarea states that when Honorius was informed that Rome had fallen, he misunderstood this to mean his pet chicken, Roma, had died. When he learnt the truth that it was, in fact, the city, Honorius breathed a sigh of relief. The veracity of this anecdote is questionable, but it does highlight the perceived image of Honorius as weak and ineffectual. Of note was the capture of his sister, Galla Placidia, who was taken into Gothic custody before the fall of Rome. She became the wife of Alaric’s half-brother Ataulf, who succeeded Alaric and later entered into an alliance with Honorius.

This was the second time Rome was sacked, but it was the first in eight centuries. In some ways, it could be seen as the beginning of the end for the Roman Empire. It brought the realities of the declining Roman world to the fore, and over the course of the next few decades, Rome would be sacked twice before the Roman Empire ceased to exist as a formal entity in 476. Alaric’s actions were, in many ways, a sign of the changing times.

The Fall of Rome in 476 was a point of extreme historical importance. Although the changes that happened in Europe before and as a result were gradual in nature, for many historians the year marks a definitive point of reference for the end of the Ancient Era and the beginning of what is known as the “Dark Ages,” or the Early Middle Ages.

Over the last decades of the Roman Empire, socio-economic shifts took hold in the Italian Peninsula. Across the empire, trade was diminished, the cities could not support massive populations as they had before, and the general population moved towards a more agrarian lifestyle.

The biggest and swiftest change happened at the top levels of power, as the empire receded and gave way to “barbarian” rule. First to take the reins was Odoacer, a foederati (Germanic soldiers who fought for Rome) leader, who ruled the Italian Peninsula until he was challenged by Theodoric and his Ostrogoths.

The End of the Roman Empire

The end of the Roman Empire is historically attributed to the single, sudden event of the end of imperial rule in 476. The reality was much more complex. Rome had been in decline for many decades. The capital moved from Rome to Constantinople before the empire was split into the Western and Eastern Empires. While the Eastern Empire thrived, the Western Empire went into decline. In 410, Rome was sacked for the first time in eight centuries, which was followed by sackings in 455 and 472, marking major points in the decline of Roman military might and imperial authority.

Of major importance was the shifting balance of real power within the empire, regarding the military. Over the 5th century, Rome increasingly relied on barbarian soldiers to augment its own army. These foederati were essentially auxiliary troops, and were often treated poorly by authorities within the government who resented their inclusion into the Roman military. The dynamic led to friction and conflict as the Germanic peoples within the empire fought for more recognition, respect, and justice.

Other factors, such as economic decline, internal political strife, disease, and continued pressure from barbarian forces on Rome’s borders, all contributed to the weakening of the Roman Empire. In 476, the greatest blow came in the form of Odoacer, a foederati leader, who deposed the last emperor, 11-year-old Romulus Augustulus. He styled himself king, although he recognized the supreme authority of Eastern Roman Emperor Zeno.

King Odoacer

Odoacer existed as Italy’s first king, but despite the stereotypical Germanic barbarian image that is common today, Odoacer and his foederati were anything but brute savages. They were civilized and had much respect for how Rome functioned. While the government may have shifted hands, and the state changed style, Odoacer preserved many other aspects of Rome. He kept the Senate, as well as much of the administrative structure. Of major importance to his reasoning for assuming power was to give the foederati what they believed they were owed. Odoacer distributed Roman lands to these soldiers in a process that was relatively smooth and unopposed.

Odoacer had respect for Roman ways of life and a desire to preserve much of what the Roman Empire represented in the West. He also acknowledged the Eastern Roman Emperor as his superior. Despite all this, Emperor Zeno did not look favorably upon Odoacer and supported the legitimacy of Julius Nepos, who had been emperor of the Western Roman Empire before being deposed by Orestes, the father of the last Roman emperor, Romulus Augustulus. Zeno had had problems of his own regarding revolts and depositions. He had been deposed in 475 CE and reclaimed power the following year. Giving legitimacy to Odoacer would have meant giving legitimacy to the overthrow of emperors, thus weakening his own position. Thus, Odoacer was a rival for political influence.

Theodoric and the Ostrogoths

By the late 4th century CE, parts of eastern Europe were taken by the advancing Huns. Whole nations scattered as the Huns conquered, raided, and pillaged settlements before them. Of those who suffered, the Goths, a Germanic people, would end up having a great impact on the future of the Roman Empire. Around the end of the 4th century, the Goths had split into two main groups. The Visigoths lived within Roman territory and became foederati, subject to Rome’s authority, before establishing the Visigothic Kingdom in Iberia, while the Ostrogoths became subjects of the Huns. Into this dynamic, a future king was born.

Theodoric was the son of King Theodemir of the Amal dynasty, the Ostrogoth rulers, and was born in 454 CE on the banks of the Neusiedler See, now in the far east of Austria. He was just an infant when the Goths threw off the yoke of the Huns as a result of the Battle of Nedao later that year. A dangerous power vacuum was left in its wake, leading to potential for confrontation and conflict between various non-Roman groups where once the Huns had held sway. At a young age, Theodoric was held hostage in Constantinople as part of a treaty to force the compliance of the Ostrogoths. While there, Theodoric became well-educated and was treated amicably by Emperor Leo of the Eastern Roman Empire.

Meanwhile, life for the Ostrogoths was almost nomadic, as they searched for a place to call home, while dealing with bloody rivalries and challenges from other Germanic factions in similar situations. In 470 CE, Theodoric returned from Constantinople and took up life as the princely heir to a people desperate for stability.

Emperor Zeno, understanding the political maneuvering that was needed, played various factions against each other. He allied himself with Theodoric, who would become king in 474 after his father, Theodemir, died. Alliances, however, were shifting, and Zeno also betrayed Theodoric, breaking agreements and taking military action against him.

Zeno’s Plans

Both Theodoric and Odoacer represented elements that were a danger to Zeno and the Eastern Roman Empire. Theodoric, in a bid to gain recognition and authority from Zeno, raided Eastern Roman territory and threatened Constantinople. Efforts to control Theodoric through alliances and military action came to nought, and Zeno had to concede to significant demands, including granting Theodoric the title of magister militum (the highest military rank). Theodoric, however, was not satisfied, and his desire for more was an alarming development. If Zeno could not end the threat through military action, he would have to redirect it.

Meanwhile, Odoacer was growing in power and represented a major challenge to Zeno’s power and a threat to the unity of the Roman world. Zeno saw his opportunity, and in 488 CE, he gave Theodoric authority to invade Italy. Whoever won, the likely outcome was that Zeno would eliminate one of his enemies.

Invasion

Despite later Gothic ideologists describing the invasion of Italy as a campaign of salvation, at the time, for the people of Italy, the Ostrogoth invasion was seen as a devastating catastrophe. The Ostrogoths set out from Pannonia and arrived in Italy, crossing the Julian Alps in August 489 CE. On August 28, the armies of Theodoric and Odoacer clashed at Isonzo. The Ostrogoths were victorious, and Odoacer retreated to Verona. At Verona, the Ostrogoths won another victory. Odoacer fled to Ravenna, while Theodoric continued his march, besieging and capturing Mediolanum (Milan) and, later, Pavia.

A large portion of Odoacer’s army, led by Tufa, surrendered to the Ostrogoths and switched sides. Believing them loyal, Theodoric sent them against Odoacer, but Tufa switched sides again and rejoined Odoacer, giving the latter the troops and an opportunity to launch a counter-campaign against the Ostrogoths. Odoacer took Mediolanum and Cremona and then laid siege to Pavia. The siege, however, was interrupted by a Visigothic army commanded by Alaric II, who supported the Ostrogoths, and Odoacer’s forces retreated.

In August 490 CE, Odoacer was defeated on the Adda River by a combined force of Ostrogoths and Visigoths, and he fled to Ravenna, which Theodoric then besieged. Throughout the campaign, the Senate and many Italian cities declared themselves for Theodoric. Due to geographical and naval constraints, the Goths could not blockade Ravenna’s port, and as such, it allowed for the city and Odoacer’s defenses to be resupplied, leading to a protracted siege. The Goths, however, were finally able to gather a fleet and cut off supplies to Ravenna.

The siege lasted until March 5, 493 CE, at which point Odoacer surrendered. Theodoric extended a diplomatic hand, and believing that they would agree to rule together, Odoacer attended a banquet with Theodoric, where he was murdered. According to the Chronicle of John of Antioch, p. 445, the planned murder went awry when Theodoric’s men hesitated. Theodoric himself then struck Odoacer a mortal blow with his sword. Odoacer cried out, “Where is God?” to which Theodoric replied, “This is what you have done to my people.” The conquest was complete, and Theodoric ruled the Italian Peninsula.

The Ostrogothic Kingdom

Theodoric, despite his acts of brutality and desire for power, did not take full control by declaring himself an emperor. He was still a viceroy to Emperor Zeno and acted in accordance with this position. The Romans and the Senate continued to exercise administrative functions, while Theodoric and the Goths took command of military matters. The Romans and the Goths, two very different cultures, cooperated for the most part, and the rule of law was greatly enforced by Theodoric. The two populations were kept separate, and different sets of laws were applicable. Intermarriage was forbidden. The legal and social separation of these peoples contributed to the peaceful coexistence, and there was no need for oppressive imposition of cultural and legal mores of one upon the other.

Despite apparent peace within the kingdom, war did not cease. In 504 CE to 505 CE, Theodoric’s forces launched a campaign to retake the Gothic lands to the north, which had been taken by the Gepids. The campaign was successful, but other conflicts also played out, particularly on the religious front. The Goths were followers of Arian Christianity, while the Romans were Catholic. The Franks and the Visigoths were at war, and while the Visigoths were seen as being culturally similar to the Ostrogoths, the Franks declared themselves defenders of the Church against the heretical Arians. This culminated in Emperor Anastasius, who had succeeded Zeno, dispatching ships to raid the coast of Apulia in Southern Italy.

The religious conflict also led to tension between the Goths and the Senate, and Theodoric fell out with a powerful traditionalist faction in the Senate, while the Roman elites looked to Constantinople for support. Theodoric died in 526 CE and was succeeded by his infant grandson Athalaric, with his mother, Theodoric’s daughter, Amalasuntha, as regent. Meanwhile, the Ostrogoths had become factionalized, and a pro-Germanic faction murdered Amalansuntha, whom they saw as being pro-Roman.

Under an ineffective regency, the network of alliances outside the kingdom also began to fall apart. With the Franks, Visigoths, and Vandals all pursuing their own agendas, weakening the authority of the Ostrogoths.

The End of an Era

Despite Theodoric’s effective rule and his attempts to rebuild Italy, the Ostrogothic Kingdom did not last long beyond his death. The murder of Amalasuntha provided Emperor Justinian I, the pretext he needed, as he had been on good terms with her. What followed was a two-decade-long war as the Byzantines (Eastern Romans) campaigned to reconquer the peninsula to reunite the Roman peoples. Their final victory in 554 CE would be short-lived as well, as the Germanic Lombards invaded and conquered Italy just over a decade later.