Today, I have the pleasure of speaking to Prue Batten, an award-winning author of historical fiction, fantasy and more. You can't fail to be educated and entertained by insights and anecdotes from such a friendly and knowledgeable storyteller. So grab a cup of coffee, sit back, and enjoy... Gordon: The premise behind The Triptych Chronicle - the illegal movement of Tyrian purple - is intriguing, and I love how you've built and woven such a rich world around it. What aspect of it inspired you to make the call 'I'm going to write a book about this'? Prue: I seem to have developed a deep interest in medieval trade over the years. The commodities being traded quite simply raised the hairs on my neck – silk, spices, precious metals and gems, essential oils, alum, timber, dyes – the list just goes on. I was fascinated by the contact between empires, the search for the ‘next big thing’ (nothing changes, does it?) and the excruciatingly venal nature of trade (nothing changes there, either!). Trade reduced men to their most base level and as an author, that gave me such scope for a good story! Not only that, trade presaged the new social order with the development of the merchant or middle class. Often, historical fiction plays out a narrative in a field of war and I wanted to write about something that turned the wheels of society as far, but in a different way. In respect of Tyrian purple, it was completely protected by the Byzantines – attempts to smuggle it were regarded as treason against the empire. What a story I could tell by secreting it out of Constantinople to Europe! That idea became Tobias – Book One of The Triptych Chronicle. Tyrian purple then continued to run like a silk ribbon through Book Two, Guillaume, which takes place in the trading hub of Lyon. In Book Three, Michael, the story returns to Constantinople with the man who initiated the treasonous crime in the first place. Gordon: You write about colourful and evocative periods of history, including medieval Byzantium - one of my favourite eras and locations (city and empire). But how much of a challenge is it for you - based in Tasmania - to 'ground' yourself in Byzantine lands? I imagine it must be difficult to organise research trips given the distance and the cost, so how do you go about 'exploring' Byzantium and such places without visiting the places in person? Prue: A huge challenge, you are right. I live at the bottom of the world and frequent travel is not possible financially for an indie writer. I have a stack of my own travel diaries which I use when I require a memory to be jogged, but research reading becomes even more vital when one is so far away. My sources are books, online PDF’S, virtual tours through museums, historic sites and galleries, documentaries … in fact anything I can lay my hands on. And because my stories are character-driven, I suck every bit of experience of life that I have had – joy, happiness, physical pain, grief, anger, fury – and mix it with my own experiences of riding, archery, lifting and swinging a sword, death, sailing, stitching, farming – anything and everything to give my stories dimension. It’s a heady recipe and it seems to work. In grounding myself in the geographical arena of trade, I read extracts of the twelfth century traveller and geographer from Al Andalus, Ibn Jubayr, who recorded his experiences of the Middle East, Africa, the Middle Sea and the Adriatic. The way he described what he saw was wonderfully enlightening and fresh because he was seeing a twelfth century view of what I needed to see. From there I read much about my timeframe (1190’s) and located aspects of politics, of the shrinking Byzantine empire, of the Eastern Church, Byzantine food, clothing, plants, medicine and so on. I found what maps I could of the city of Constantinople as close to the twelfth century as possible but then fell into a real hole because much of Constantinople as I wanted to know it had been destroyed in the Fourth Crusade and the Ottoman Invasion. But thanks to you, Gordon, I discovered www.byzantium1200.com. What a blessing! Finally I felt as if I walked the stones of the streets, as if I leaned against the walls of the Theodosian Harbour, as if my characters could indeed run for their lives along the top of the Valens Aqueduct or climb the steps and gaze up at the cupolas of Sancta Sophia, seabirds wheeling overheard. Combine that with harmonies from the eastern church itself and I was there! But most importantly, I’m lucky enough to have a very good friend of long-standing who lives in Istanbul and she took a camera and energy and set about taking videos of the unfindable. I owe my friend, Jane, more than you can possibly imagine… Gordon: You have a time machine, but it will only take you to one place, then it'll fall apart. So you'll have to pick somewhere that both intrigues you and that you wouldn't mind remaining in! Where and when? Prue: Goodness… let me think! After researching so much of twelfth century Constantinople and knowing that ultimately, in a few hundred more years the Byzantine empire would collapse in a field of war, I can say I wouldn’t want to travel there in a Time Machine. But the Renaissance? Ah, that’s another thing entirely. So much cultural diversity and excitement! To watch Italy bud and flower and give largesse to the world. Trade across the seas, Venice and Genoa becoming massive trading forces, the development of the great banking houses. If I thought trade was venal in the twelfth century, the Renaissance would prove it was a dozen times worse! And of course, if I was forced to remain there, I would have to marry a wealthy Florentine banker with links to the great artists and philosophers of the time so that I would have contact with the vast minds of the era. Or else I would become a wealthy and outspoken noblewoman who had the freedom to think and feel the way she wanted because she was related to said Florentine noble families and bankers! The reality though, is that the thought of living anywhere but my island of Tasmania, so far removed from the dramas of our contemporary world, fills me with great sadness, so that if the Time Machine breaks down and can’t take me to the Renaissance, I won’t be at all disappointed or frustrated. Gordon: What eras do you plan to explore in the future, and do you have any plans to cross into different genres (something that appeals to and frightens me!)? Prue: My first published books were a fantasy quartet, and I plan to return to fantasy after finishing Michael, my sixth historical fiction. To be honest, I enjoy being a cross-genre writer because diversity is not only fun but prevents this writer from becoming stale. Besides, the rules are the same in each genre – credible world-building, believable characters and a plot that races one through a novel. But having variety in my writing life is perhaps why I always enjoy being part of an anthology (one coming later this year to raise money for cancer research. Called Tales from a Car Boot Sale) and why I am in occasional collaboration with a miniature book press in the USA (www.bopressminiaturebooks.com). I think such ‘out of left field’ activities allow one to stretch oneself. In respect of other timeframes, I have a collaboration coming up with an hist.fict writer in the UK in 2018-ish. We plan to write a novel about convict transportation to Australia in the 1800’s. I live right on the edge of a former penal settlement in Tasmania and am descended from a convict who was transported to what was then Van Diemens’ Land for stealing two sheep. The novelist at the UK end will write the English side of the plot and I shall write the VDL side… Gordon: Two of the things that give me the most pleasure in writing are a) hearing that I've cheered someone up thanks to my stories or b) knowing that I've passed on a little encouragement and advice to another writer. What about you? Prue: Good question! Above and beyond anything else, I want to entertain. If I know I’ve done that, I am completely content. For me as a reader, entertainment is all. I want to be enthralled, to have my imagination fertilised, to see things in living breathing colour. One of the first reviews I ever received many years ago said: ‘…writes in 3D and surround sound in the very best way. There is nothing loud and obtrusive about it…’ I have tried hard to live up to those words ever since. Gordon: And do you have any advice or aphorisms to gee up budding writers out there? Prue: To write without fear and without expectation and ego. To enjoy what one does and to listen to those who might critique and edit because they inevitably know what they are talking about! Gordon, thank you so much for interviewing me. I greatly appreciate the time you have taken. Best wishes to you and to your readers. Brilliant stuff there from Prue, I'm sure you'll agree! And if you'd like to read Prue's work, get in touch with her and find out more, you can do so at the following places:
Prue's website | Facebook | Pinterest
Earlier this year, I travelled to the northwestern (European) part of Turkey, A.K.A. Roman Thracia, in search of the site of the Battle of Adrianople, where the Goths and the Roman legions met in a clash that turned history.
But before those mud-soaked exploits in the countryside, I took a trip to the nearby ancient city that gave its name to that historic battle. It felt only right; after all, in the 4th century AD, the city of Adrianople was at the epicentre of the Gothic War, and its streets and taverns would have been well-known to many of the heroes of the XI Claudia - indeed, it was Sura's old stamping ground and Zosimus' home too. Of course, the high-walled Roman metropolis of Adrianople is long gone, but the site has been constantly occupied since those times, and the present-day city of Edirne sits bang on top of the Roman site.
And that brings me to a grave aside I wish I did not have to write: since my visit, Edirne has sadly become embroiled in the Syrian refugee crisis. I recently watched a news report, which followed swathes of hungry, frightened and homeless families trekking down the Istanbul to Edirne highway. It really brought home to me the scale of the troubles. Indeed - and I don't mean to trivialise or use this in any way to sell my books - I have spent the best part of the last decade reading about the impact upon this very same tract of land caused by the flight of the Goths into Roman Thracia in the 4th century AD. Then, it was tribesmen and their families who came in their hundreds of thousands. The Romans made an utter mess of the situation. Today, we are seeing millions of displaced and desperate families entering those lands. I truly hope that in their search for a solution, the European nations can employ wisdom and compassion and dispense with petty squabbles and talk of throwing up walls on their borders. Pragmatism is required to a degree, of course, but let us not forget the lessons of the past.
Adrianople: A Brief History
Legend has it that the site was first settled in the early Iron Age (roughly 1200-1100 BC) by the Odrysians, a Thracian tribe who called the place 'Odrysia'. It's easy to see why they chose the location - a sizeable tract of arable land cupped on its southern and western sides by the confluence of the River Maritsa (the ancient Hebrus) and the River Tundzha (the ancient Tonsus). The rivers would have served as a protective arm around two sides of the settlement, while providing an excellent water source and a ready-made highway for transport and merchant boats.
The Romans first claimed the Balkan region in the 1st century AD, but it was a hundred years later when Emperor Hadrian came along and gave his name to a Romanised incarnation of the city - 'Hadrianopolis' or 'Adrianople'. By the 4th century AD, Adrianople was a thriving metropolis right at the heart of the imperial Diocese of Thracia and would have been well known to the legions embroiled in the Gothic War that raged across those lands. Despite the collapse of the Roman Empire in the West, and perilous times in the East, Adrianople remained in Roman (then Byzantine) hands until the 9th century AD, when Khan Krum of the Bulgars wrested it from imperial control. Over the centuries that followed, it slipped in and out of the hands of various conquerors - Byzantines, rebel despots, Bulgarians and Ottomans. It was in the 14th century that the Ottomans first graced the city with its modern name 'Edirne' (which is in fact an adapted Turkish form of 'Hadrianopolis'). Modern Edirne
The present-day city finds itself perched on the Turkish side of the meeting point of the Greek, Bulgarian and Turkish borders. While the Roman city occupied just the northeastern bank of the Hebrus and Tonsus confluence, Edirne spreads over onto the Tonsus' (Tundzha's) western banks, and sprawls much further eastwards than the imperial city would have - making it perhaps 6 or more times the size of the Roman-era settlement. Edirne combines an interesting mix of Turkish/eastern architecture with more practical Balkan/western structures. Parts of the city are splendorous, with the beautiful Selimiye Mosque - surely a rival of any of the Islamic wonders in Istanbul - the majestic Maritsa bridge, and the picturesque stretch of restaurants along the northern banks of the river. There's also the Balkan War Museum, the Archaeology Museum, Ottoman palace ruins and an art Museum and a bazaar (far less congested that the Istanbul equivalent, making for a more relaxed visit), so even if you're not into the Roman era of the city (which is sadly underplayed, in my opinion), there's still bucket-loads of stuff to see and do (and the delicious food on offer at the many cafes and restaurants is half the price of that in Istanbul!).
Digging a Little Deeper...
But I was here to cast a little light on the few remnants of the Adrianople of late antiquity, the Adrianople of Pavo, Gallus and Sura. In truth, there isn't a great deal to see, and as previously mentioned, the Roman era and the Battle of Adrianople itself is barely mentioned or alluded to in the city's tourist information (the same could be said for certain aspects of Istanbul - many of the Roman and Byzantine remnants there are only now being polished and shown off as the archaeological jewels that they are). But fortunately there was enough to set my imagination alight, particularly in the city's western quarter around the archaeological site containing the sturdy turret known as 'The Macedonian Tower'. This small part of the Roman-era city was excavated in 2002, and the findings are nicely laid out and well-served with plaques and diagrams.
The Macedonian Tower was built in the 10th century AD and derives its name from the Byzantine ruling dynasty of the time. The tower served as the northeastern bastion of the Byzantine-era settlement, linking with the innermost curtain wall of similar, typically Byzantine style (alternating bands of white dressed stone facing and red, burnt brick masonry sealing in a rubble core). The outermost curtain wall, running just proud of the Byzantine one, belongs to Hadrian's original Roman settlement - the larger limestone blocks are certainly an indicator of more opulent times! This original wall would have remained in place till the time of Pavo, Sura and the XI Claudia in the 4th century AD. Presumably there was also a Roman precursor to the Byzantine tower on roughly the same site. In effect, it seems that the general size and shape of Adrianople did not change vastly over the Roman and Byzantine periods.
Based on the tower's location, I could see how ancient Adrianople was nestled snugly into the protective arm of the river confluence. This map should help illustrate:
Map: The two coloured polygons represent the Roman and Byzantine walls, and the outer line speculates as to the course of the moat Emperor Valens' army excavated when they set up camp outside the city immediately prior to the Battle of Adrianople.
Immediately outside the northern wall, it seems that there was a necropolis. Rather fitting, then, that Emperor Valens chose to set up a moated camp at this spot when he brought his army to the city just prior to the Battle of Adrianople...
Inside the walls, many pottery kilns have been discovered - some of which show signs of damage attributed to attacks by the Goths! The ruins of a Byzantine church lie just a little further inside the city boundaries.
Standing in that small patch of ruins from long-lost antiquity in a gentle mizzle of rain, I couldn't help but feel detached from the working-day hustle and bustle going on in the surrounding streets. The babble and buzz of the many voices, cars and motorbikes faded into nothing, and I was in another place. Emperor Valens once brought his army to these walls - just days before the battle that he would never return from, and one that would spell disaster for the Eastern Empire...
Hopefully the Turkish government will one day re-open and extend the excavations. There's an off-chance they might find the outline of Valens' moat. Maybe they'd find some late 4th century Roman armour - after all, the city was known to house a mighty fabrica (arms and armour workshop). Or perhaps they'd find scrolls or tablets containing evidence of some of Sura's more outlandish claims - finest javelin-thrower/fire-walker/weight-lifter/climber/orator of Adrianople? :)
Thanks for reading! If you're interested in taking a mosey back into 4th century Thracia, why not try my Legionary series?
The Roman legionary: an iconic figure in military history. Ask almost anyone to describe these ancient soldiers and I’d bet you a solidus that they use the word ‘armour’. Good armour allowed the legions to dominate the battlefield, moving in tight, well-ordered formations that were the bane of many a foe. Over the centuries, the legions evolved and so did their equipment: in the Republican era they mainly wore mail; in the Principate period they developed the unmistakeable lorica segmentata. In the later empire they reverted to mail once more (and sometimes scale). But there is a curious anomaly in this progression – a nebulous notion that in the late 4th century AD, legionaries didn't bother wearing armour at all during battle. Really? Why on earth would a military superpower abandon the use of armour, something that was - and had been for centuries - one of its strengths? And why would the men serving in the legions want to face their sword, spear and bow-wielding foes wearing nothing but an itchy tunic? Well, according to Vegetius, a Roman writer from the period in question, that is exactly what they did: “…it is plain the infantry are entirely defenceless. From the foundation of the city till the reign of the Emperor Gratian, the foot wore cuirasses and helmets. But negligence and sloth having by degrees introduced a total relaxation of discipline, the soldiers began to think their armour too heavy, as they seldom put it on. They first requested leave from the Emperor to lay aside the cuirass and afterwards the helmet. In consequence of this, our troops in their engagements with the Goths were often overwhelmed with their showers of arrows.” - excerpt from De Re Militari (Latin for: "Concerning Military Matters"). Vegetius attributes this 'negligence and slothfulness' to the soldiers and later on to the imperial military system in general. For a long time, his claims were accepted: but while most went along with his view that the late legionaries did not wear armour, some insisted they did. Now, thanks to the work of modern historians, we have a greater understanding of the period and with that knowledge, we can settle the debate. So, armour or no armour? Which camp is right? Er, neither...and both! Allow me to explain. Let's take a trip back to late antiquity... A Changing WorldIn the late 4th century AD, the Huns surged across the Eurasian Steppe in incalculable numbers, hitting Eastern Europe like a storm. Their arrival shattered the centuries-old Gothic/Germanic pseudo-states north of the Danube and east of the Rhine. The worlds of the Thervingi and Greuthingi Goths, the Quadi, The Alemanni, the Franks, the Saxons and the Vandals were thrown into chaos. Millions of these tribesmen were displaced from their homes by the pillaging Huns. For most, there was only one place to run: west or south… into the empire. Thus, imperial territory was soon swamped by an inflow of foreign peoples. The Romans probably saw them as raiders intent on slaughter, while they would likely have considered themselves as refugees, fighting for their survival. It was late 376 AD when 100,000 Goths, led by Fritigern, fled like this from the Huns. Fritigern's horde spilled southwards across the River Danube and into the Roman Diocese of Thracia. The sight of them must have sent fear through the veins of every imperial subject - for the Goths had been a truculent neighbour to the empire for many years beforehand. But there was actually an air of promise about Fritigern’s arrival, for he and his people entered imperial territory under truce, wilfully entering a temporary refugee camp and agreeing to provide troops to serve in the legions in exchange for a grant of Roman farming lands within Thracia. However, things quickly turned sour when food ran short and the Roman officers began grievously mistreating the Goths. Legend has it that the Romans offered the starving Goths rotting dog meat to eat and demanded their children - to sell into slavery - in exchange. Unsurprisingly, this sparked a rebellion and the Goths broke free of their vast refugee camp. Suddenly, the thinly-garrisoned lands of Thracia had an army of enraged Goths to deal with. This was the start of the Gothic War. Fritigern led his horde well and battled hard, meeting the legions of Thracia in 377 AD at Ad Salices. It was a bloody pitched battle that lasted an entire day, but it ended in stalemate and solved nothing. After Ad Salices, both sides withdrew – the Goths to the north of Thracia and the Romans to the south – each bloodied and dazed. Perhaps it was this inconclusive and brutal clash that drove Fritigern to alter his strategy. Instead of regrouping and planning another direct clash with the legions, he based himself at the town of Kabyle with a small guard, and broke up the rest of his horde into multiple small warbands, assigning each a particular part of Thracia to rove around. Swift and lethal, these warbands made the land their own, striking at Roman wagon trains and razing towns and forts, never remaining in one place for too long. The battered and depleted Thracian legions – pinned in the well-walled cities that the Goths could not take – possessed neither the numbers nor the speed to intercept the warbands. They waited in hope for the arrival of Emperor Valens, who was rumoured to be bringing his Praesental Army (consisting of some 30,000 palace legionaries and crack cavalrymen) in relief. And Valens did arrive in Constantinople in May 378 AD, determined to end the Gothic War. Some generals within Valens’ retinue called for him to march at once from the region around Constantinople and out into Thracia. But even with his huge army, the roaming Gothic warbands still presented a conundrum: how could a lumbering, marching column of ironclad legionaries – however numerous – tackle an even more numerous enemy that was as elusive as mist and refused to offer pitched battle? Valens knew that to lead his army into the heart of a Goth-infested Thracia as a column would be like walking naked into a swarm of hornets: they might attack from any and every direction, or swing down behind his column and cut off his route back to Constantinople. He knew that Fritigern's roving warbands first had to be herded and driven back to their master at Kabyle - forged into one great horde again - before he could bring his Praesental Army to bear in a classic field battle. So, how did he set about herding many thousand of deadly Goths? He called for Sebastianus… Sebastianus was a general of the Western Empire. He answered Valens’ call immediately. Sebastianus’ nous of abstruse warfare was legendary, and the canny general swiftly demonstrated his wisdom. After reviewing the situation in Thracia, he asked Valens for just a handful of men from each Roman regiment – legionaries, archers, slingers, javelin-throwers and riders – totalling no more than a few thousand. He then instructed this heterogeneous force to shed their armour and any unnecessary burdens, before leading them out into the Goth-infested countryside. They moved not under the sun like a marching column, but at night, stealing across the land like shadows, faces blackened, wearing not a jot of iron garb to catch the moonlight. Swift and silent, Sebastianus’ force caught several of Fritigern’s warbands unawares, falling upon them hard and fast. His most famous success was in infiltrating a large Gothic camp by the River Hebrus late one night: he and his men waded up the shallows of the river to draw alongside the camp, then climbed up the riverbank and fell upon the startled Goths, slaying and scattering them and reclaiming many chests of plundered Roman coins. In these encounters, armour would have been heavy, noisy and would have blown any chance of them sneaking up on the Goths – one glint of torchlight or moonlight on iron or the 'shushing' of a mail shirt could have been the difference between success and failure… between life and death. More, the nature of combat when they engaged with the Goths like this was nothing liked pitched battle. It did not involve two lines of men advancing slowly towards one another behind a shield wall – instead, it would have been fraught, swift, often one-on-one combat. In this kind of skirmish, being spry and dexterous would have been far more advantageous to the legionaries than the swaddling protection of a mail or scale shirt. Sebastianus’ proto-guerilla campaign eventually forced Fritigern to abandon his strategy and recall his roaming warbands. With the horde reunited, it was only a matter of time before they would face Emperor Valens and his Army. And face them they did, on the 9th August 378 AD, at an as-yet-unlocated site roughly a morning’s march north of Adrianople. When the imperial legions lined up across from the Gothic horde at the infamous Battle of Adrianople, they did so… wearing armour*. Why? Because in this situation, armour was clearly advantageous. There was no call for the stealth and speed of Sebastianus' sorties, no need to move in silence or stay unseen. Now they were face-to-face with the enemy, on open ground, horns blaring and banners waving - a classic pitched battle. The Roman legions lined up in a phalanx of sorts, shoulder-to-shoulder, helms strapped on, iron vests buckled in place, shields interlocked to form an impenetrable barrier, showing the Goths just their spear tips and the fire in their eyes. Here, armoured torsos and helms on heads offered strength, weight and unity to their battle line. * Our primary source for the battle comes from the Roman historian, Ammianus Marcellinus, who states that the legionaries at Adrianople were ‘weighed down by the burden of their armour’. So there is my theory: the 4th century AD legionaries almost certainly did wear armour when engaged in pitched battle*, but shed it when they employed what we would describe as 'guerilla' tactics - something that became more and more prevalent in the twilight of antiquity (when costly field combat became a rarer occurrence too). Vegetius' claims that they wore no armour simply because they were lazy, or because the military system was crumbling, simply does not tally with the narratives of the Gothic War (chiefly that of Ammianus Marcellinus). This poses one final, additional question: why did Vegetius get it wrong? * There may well be some weight in the thinking that as time progressed, the late legions opted to dress just the front few ranks of their infantry in armour (a tactical and logistical choice); this certainly became a standard practice in later ‘Byzantine’ times. Such a notion has even been mooted regarding the iconic lorica segmenta-clad legions of the Principate. The Problem with VegetiusVegetius authored two texts: De Re Militari, and another work focused on Veterinary medicine. We don't know for sure what his occupation was, but one has to question his credentials and motivations for writing military commentaries - just as one should always question and try to understand the agenda of any historical treatise to shed a more critical light on its content (some texts can prove to be solid and dependable, while others, particularly panegyrics and polemics, can be turn out to be significantly detached from reality - Jordanes' Getica, a work produced to please an Ostrogothic king, being a prime example of the latter). Regarding Vegetius' credentials: it seems that he was chiefly a vet and secondarily a bureaucrat, but never a military man; modern historians such as Elton, Goldsworthy and MacDowall point to his accounts of 4th century AD warfare which they describe as 'somewhat stilted and confused'. They argue that it is very likely that Vegetius misunderstood the diversity of military tactics that were employed during the Gothic War. Apropos his motivation: Vegetius was something of a romanticist, lamenting the lost ways of the ‘legions of old’ (in De Re Militari, he digresses to reminisce over the manipular legions of the Republican era) without really understanding the tactical and strategic necessity of the late 4th century AD legions' art of war. This is quite possibly why he reported on Sebastianus' – very successful if unconventional – guerilla campaign as a martial nadir simply because it did not live up to his expectation of the Roman way of war. To supplement the above theory, we can look to the evidence for the use of armour before, during and after the period he denounces. For example: 1. Monumental and Epigraphic Remains2. Alternative Literary Sources of the DayThe Notitia Dignitatum (Latin: "The List of Offices") lists 35 armour-producing fabricae (arms factories) and their locations in the early 5th century. The majority of these had been in existence and producing arms and armour since the time of Diocletian at the end of the 3rd century. This one is a reconstruction at the Saalburg Roman fort. 3. Artefactual EvidenceAnd FinallySo there you have it. It's been a pleasure to explore this topic; digging into what seemed to be a yes/no question at the outset has allowed me to understand the era I love just that little bit more. I hope you've enjoyed the discussion too ;) And if you'd like to read about the legionaries who faced the Gothic horde, you can relive those fraught times in my Legionary series! References
On 9th August 378 AD, under a blistering-hot Thracian sun, two-thirds of the Eastern Roman Army was slaughtered. Emperor Valens fell along with his legions. It was the day of the Goths... it was the Battle of Adrianople.
The time-period has had me in its talons for nearly a decade. The Legionary series is entrenched in the brutal chain of events of those times: the coming of the Huns, the flight of the great Gothic tribes into Roman territory and the colossal upheaval and destruction that ensued in what was known as ‘the Gothic War’. The Battle of Adrianople was one of the bloodiest encounters of that savage conflict, and one that remains surrounded by unanswered questions and misconceptions. So when I had the chance to visit the ancient Roman city of Adrianople (modern Edirne in northwest Turkey) and explore the countryside nearby where the clash is thought to have occurred, I set my mind to exploring and investigating in an attempt to answer what is probably the battle's greatest riddle: where exactly did it occur? That's right, we still don't know. Anything between 20,000-80,000 men died on that fateful day. Legionary bodies, banners, helms, swords, spears, shields and Gothic equivalents would have been strewn all across the blood-soaked soil. Most of this would have been cleared away or scavenged in the immediate aftermath, but surely a great deal of it must remain where it fell. Somewhere outside Edirne, there must be a wealth of archaeological remains, fixed forever underneath the modern topsoil. Yet there has never been a positive identification of the battle site. There have, however, been two main candidate locations proposed by modern historians. So, armed with a camera, chewing gum, a hire car totally unsuited to the mud-track roads (white and shiny when we picked it up, mud-brown with bald tyres when we returned it) and a very understanding wife, I set about exploring these two sites. The first part of this blog is a narrative of the Gothic War and the battle itself, which should help provide a frame of reference for my findings, further down the page. I have to stress that I am merely an amateur historian – but an obsessively enthusiastic one nonetheless. I expect some readers may appreciate the concise nature of my investigation, others may feel I am not delving deeply into certain aspects, but I hope all can enjoy the journey with me. Finally, beware that this discussion contains some spoilers to the fifth book in the Legionary series – Gods & Emperors… I’ve heard it’s a must-read ;) Part 1: The Road to War
So why did the Romans and the Goths meet in battle on that fateful day? One man - a contemporary of the brave legionaries and Goths who died on the plains of Thracia - is best placed to explain...
A Voice from History
There are many fine books discussing the Gothic War and the Battle of Adrianople, but all of them draw from one primary source: Ammianus Marcellinus’ ‘Roman History’, written in or before 391 AD, is a gold mine but a labyrinthine one that delivers as many dead ends as it does precious finds. Detail is rich one moment then fleeting the next, and putting shape to times, places, and events is a bit like nailing jelly/garum to a tree. Ammianus was a military man but this is not a strictly military chronicle, which perhaps explains the patchiness of his accounts in places. Another explanation is the suspicion that Ammianus is not thought to have been an eye witness to the battle, but is likely to have visited Thracia after the Gothic Wars to assess and understand the events (I wonder if he hired a pristine, white wagon and handed it back in a muddy mess to a raging trader?).
I should point out that I am not fluent in Latin, so I rely upon the translations of Ammianus and subsequent investigative work performed by many esteemed historians including N.J.E. Austin, Hans Delbruck, Peter Donnelly, Ian Hughes, Noel Lenski, Simon MacDowall, F. Runkel and Herwig Wolfram amongst others. Thracia: a Land in Turmoil
Ammianus describes how the Roman Diocese of Thracia bore the brunt of the Gothic War. This land is well-trodden by the legionaries of the XI Claudia in my Legionary series, and here’s a map of that region with some of the key locations mentioned in this blog:
Timeline of Events Leading up to the Battle of Adrianople
376 AD
...the day of reckoning has arrived. Part 2: The Battle - 9th August 378 ADNumbers
Size estimates of the opposing forces’ vary, some arguing that each side fielded around fifteen thousand men, others claim it was more than sixty thousand warriors each. Most agree, however, that numbers would have been equal, or that maybe the Romans would have enjoyed a slight advantage. I discuss the legions of this era a little more, here and here.
Phases of Battle
The Battlefield
Based on the phases (above), the battle is likely to have taken shape as in the following illustration, with the decisive arrival of the Gothic cavalry happening at phase 4.
Aftermath
With the Eastern Roman Army in ruins, Thracia was Fritigern’s in all but name. The 9th August 378 AD was supposed to be the day the Gothic War was won; instead, it became a black stain on Roman history, it ensured the Gothic War continued and – longer-term – gave rise to the Gothic confederation known as the Visigoths, who would one day sack Rome itself.
Some say the battle marked the end of the era of infantry dominance on the battlefield, but this is an exaggeration. Yes, this was the last time Rome's legions resembled anything like those of better days, but the forces that met outside Adrianople were primarily composed of infantry. From the late 4th century onwards, cavalry certainly grew ‘heavier’ but infantry still dominated armies, numerically at least, with an infantry:cavalry ratio of 3:1 or 4:1 commonplace well into late Byzantine times. Part 3: Searching for the Battle Site
So where did this great clash occur? Well, let’s examine what evidence we have:
On the morning of the 9th August 378 AD, Valens and his army marched in a merciless heat (August temperatures regularly reach 40 °C in this part of the world). Ammianus states: “So after hastening a long distance over rough ground, while the hot day was advancing toward noon, finally at the eighth hour they saw the wagons of the enemy.” This translation implies that the Romans had marched for eight hours, or as other translations have it to the eighth milestone outside the city, when they spotted the Gothic wagon laagers formed up in the distance. A later work, the Consularia Constantinopolitana, claims that the battle occurred twelve miles from Adrianople. So a rough radius of 10-12 miles seems to be a fair range within which to locate the battle site. Ammianus also indicates where Fritigern halted his horde in reference to other, known locations: “The barbarians… arrived within fifteen miles from the station of Nike, which was the aim of their march… when the emperor… resolved on attacking them.” Our historian also states that Fritigern and his horde halted three days after something. What that ‘something’ is remains unclear, but Donnelly argues convincingly that it refers to the Goths’ arrival at the southern end of the Tonsus valley. If this was the case, then we are looking for a site roughly three days’ march (at the lumbering pace a horde would move) from the southern end of the Tonsus valley, towards the Nike waystation. However, this wouldn’t be a direct route as such a path would take them past and dangerously close to Adrianople. So, this means we are looking for somewhere located:
Added to that, we are looking for a spot with attributes which would have convinced Fritigern to halt his horde, i.e. somewhere:
And finally, given the pivotal moment in the battle occurred when the Greuthingi cavalry unexpectedly appeared, we have to ask how the terrain itself might allow for that. So, our last criterion is that the site should:
The Candidate Sites
Two sites in the 10-12 mile zone have been identified and long debated. MacDowall and Potter point to the ridge immediately south of Muratçalı (a farming village north of Edirne/Adrianople), while Donnelly, Runkel and Lenski insist the dominant ridge at Demirhanlı (another village northeast of Edirne) is the one. So, with the criteria outlined above, I visited each location.
Site 1 - Muratçalı
We drove north from Edirne, passing through the farming village of Boyuk Doluk – rumoured to be the site of the farmhouse where Emperor Valens retreated to after the battle, wounded, and then died. Upon exiting this village we saw, as MacDowall stated we would, the dominant ridge that rests a mile or so further north:
Next, we made our way up onto the ridge. It was incredibly still and utterly silent given how high and exposed we were. I must admit it was a rather poignant moment for me, bringing a touch of reality to the legend I’ve spent the last decade writing about:
The ridge levels out onto a large-ish plateau. This photo is taken from the northern end/back of the plateau, looking south along the flat area (the point where road meets sky is where I was standing in the previous photo). While Fritigern's warriors would have been arrayed along the distant edge of the plateau, facing south, the rest of the families, tents and animals would have been encamped on this stretch of ground.
So, how did Muratçalı fit the criteria for the battle site?
Located roughly ten to twelve miles north/northeast of Adrianople?
Site 2 - Demirhanli
After a somewhat comedy navigational malfunction (involving the satnav on/off button falling off and the thing packing in), we spent the next few hours traversing quagmires and hair-whiteningly narrow dirt causeways with tarns/pools on either side but finally found our way back to Edirne. Topping up the car with diesel and our bellies with juicy lamb kebabs, we then set out to the east – presumably the route of a Roman march from Edirne to the Demirhanlı site. We crossed a series of small rises along the way, yet these were but false summits, because after about ten miles, we came over one gentle hill and sighted Demirhanlı, a small town perched on the edge of another formidable ridge.
So overall, how did Demirhanli fit the bill as a potential site for the Battle of Adrianople?
Located roughly ten to twelve miles north/northeast of Adrianople?
Driving up through Demirhanlı, I noticed that this 'ridge' was in fact more like a shelf - the land behind it remained at a similar elevation for many miles.
Conclusion
As you can see from my findings above it’s hard to identify one clear candidate. Emotionally, I connected with the Muratçalı site more readily – perhaps because it was the first of the two I visited, and perhaps because I only recently read up on the Demirhanlı theory. But looking at it rationally, we have two flawed candidates. The paltry distance between the Tonsus and the Muratçalı site doesn’t make sense when you consider the sound argument that the Goths had been on the move for three days since leaving the Tonsus valley. Equally, the water source west of Demirhanlı weakens this site’s merits (as does its over-closeness to Nike). I have to reiterate that we are not dealing with an exact science here: the criteria of water sources, location relative to Nike etc are all based on the many educated but varying and sometimes contradictory Ammianus translations. Shifting sands, eh?
So how do we root out a definitive answer? Well, investigation using the latest imaging techniques and metal-detecting would seem like a logical next step (and certainly a step up from an inquisitive chap with muddy shoes, a muddy car, a camera and an over-active imagination). Muratçalı and Demirhanlı could be swiftly ruled out or hailed as the true site, or perhaps another site might come to light. Given the ambiguity of the eight hour/eighth milestone thing – perhaps the scope of exploration should be widened? But such ventures aren't on the cards as things stand. The Turkish people seem to underplay their magnificent Byzantine and Roman heritage, while funding and permissions remain a constant barrier to an in-depth search. And that is such a shame, because there is a treasure out there, waiting to be discovered. In any case - and you can call this cheesy or overly poetic if you like - I certainly found my treasure out there. I hope you enjoyed the pics and musings. If you fancy having a look at my time in Istanbul as part of the same research trip, you can do so here. And, of course, if you fancy reliving the fraught lives of the legionaries in the time of the Battle of Adrianople...you can! My Legionary series will take you there!
A few months back I read and thoroughly enjoyed 'A Day of Fire', an anthology of historical tales intertwined around the final days of Pompeii. It was a quality read that introduced me to a few cracking new authors. I had read plenty of Ben Kane's work, and knew I'd enjoy his tale in the compilation, but I was delighted to discover that the other contributors were at the top of their game too. As a reader, 'A Day of Fire' had me captivated. As a writer, it was a pleasure and an education to experience so many other unique voices. So I'm delighted to welcome one of those fine writers, Kate Quinn, onto my website today to discuss her latest work 'Lady of the Eternal City' - volume 4 of the 'Empress of Rome' series - and to chat with her about her work and the intricacies, delights and challenges of writing about the distant past. Lady of the Eternal City - a short reviewQuinn's latest opus is a veritable weave of intrigue and tension: Emperor Hadrian is a wicked mix of might and madness; Sabina, the eponymous protagonist, sits by his side, wielding power yet walking on a knife’s edge, for her romantic dalliances with Vix, a weathered gladiator turned Praetorian, are daring in the extreme. And things are about to get a whole lot more tangled as this love triangle implodes when Hadrian’s eye turns to Vix’s son, Antinous. Quinn brilliantly depicts the fractious air that crackles across the empire as violent discord drives a wedge between Hadrian and Vix. Sabina's first love flees to Judea, taking his family with him and finding solace in the empire’s legions in that distant, dusty land. But fate conspires to draw him back to the empire’s heart, to Sabina and the court of the maddening Emperor. Tragedy and stark choices await as the tale reaches a gripping climax. I typically enjoy military-focused historical fiction, and this tale does have its action-packed moments, but it excels in delivering an engrossing measure of court and palace intrigue that utterly distracted me from my usual legion-fest fix. The author’s deft hand at characterisation was probably the key to this: with male and female characters equally vivid and strong (not always the case in historical fiction). Crucially, the history/storytelling balance is perfect, with neither dominating but both supporting the tale firmly. I'd challenge any reader not to lose themselves in this sparkling yarn. Very, very well done. Q&A with KateGordon: When I was browsing your back-catalogue I had to smile wryly when I saw that your two flagship series (Empress of Rome and The Borgia Chronicles) are set over a millennium apart, for I too know how history drags you into deep, dark and often distant corners (I leapt from 4th century AD Rome to 11th century AD Byzantium - simply had to be done!). Can you describe what aspects of these two chronologically disparate eras demanded your attention? Is there a common theme in each setting that links the two series?
Kate: I'm fascinated by so many historical eras (Tudor England! Ancient Egypt! The Hundred Years' War!) that I'm just sorry I don't have the hours to write books set in all those periods. What really fascinates me fiction-wise is power—not so much the people who wield it themselves, because those people are seldom my direct protagonists, but the people on the fringes of power: soldiers in the shadows of the empire-building Emperors; wives and concubines on the elbows of Emperor and Pope alike; slaves and servants hovering unseen around the mighty. Who are these people, and how do they effect the shifts of power? Because they do, and history changes because of it. Gordon: Characterisation is, in my opinion, your strongest asset and really makes your story live in the reader's mind long after they've finished reading. Do you find it difficult to make a real, living character from often vague and contradictory historical chronicles? Kate: Thanks for the praise! I like taking historical figures with a lot of blank space in their bios; it gives me room to play. Empress Sabina was one of those; we have a handful of dates and some interesting not-verifiable rumors about her (that she and her husband hated each other; that she had no objection to his lover Antinous; that she possibly had an affair with her Praetorian Prefect) but not a lot else—and yet she was the foremost woman of the Roman Empire. I loved filling in the gaps of her life with my own imagination, and I have no problem using the historical rumors that come down as well as the historical facts, if I think the story would benefit (though I'm careful to point out which is which in my author's note). I decided to use the rumor about Sabina's affair with her Praetorian, because it fitted the story I wanted to tell—on the other hand, when I wrote about the Borgias I decided to depict the famous incest rumors as pure slander because that fitted my story better. Gordon: I'm with you 100% re filling in gaps. I love finding contradictions or ambiguities in historical source texts - perfect chronicles that leave little to the imagination aren't half as much fun to work with. Legionary Gordon: Have you ever felt guilty about portraying a character in a speculative, negative light? I ask because I know I have done this and wondered if I'll end up in eternal damnation (see Psellos of Byzantium in Strategos)! Kate: I was probably very unfair to Emperor Trajan's wife Plotina, whom I portrayed in “Empress of the Seven Hills” as a ruthless schemer with delusions of godhood. Historically she comes across as a perfectly inoffensive woman who kept to the background, perhaps doing some mild tinkering with Trajan's deathbed scene to make sure Hadrian got the throne—but she certainly wasn't the semi-demented cast-iron bitch I made of her! What can I say, my story needed a villain and I crafted one out of some historical rumors that cling to the hem of Empress Plotina's reputation. Hadrian, however, who I wrote in a more complicated villainous light in “Lady of the Eternal City,” I didn't feel so bad about. The real man was so contradictory no depiction could ever be called the “right” one. Gordon: I find battle scenes and depictions of military camaraderie quite natural to write, but I really have to focus in order to craft poignant, touching scenes outwith this sphere. I hope this isn't gender stereotyping, but I notice that your tales don't rely solely/mainly on war scenes, so I wondered if you find the converse true? If not, are there any particular types of scenes you do have difficulty with and how do tackle these? Kate: I suspect we are more alike than you think, Gordon, because I find fight scenes and action a snap to write, and can agonize for hours over 300 words of poignant love-scene or touching interior monologue! My critique partners harp on me for it; whenever my rough draft comes back it's always covered with “Stop describing the chariot race and tell us what these characters are thinking and feeling!” So balancing both is something I'm always working on. I think the trouble with being a female writer of historical fiction is that unless you're writing a pure blood-and-battle book in the Cornwell/Kane line—and I prefer a mix, both male and female narrators, both blood-and-battle and bedroom-and-council-chamber—you get a push for less action in your books, and the packaging that goes with it. I get covers with girls in pretty dresses, and a lot of my battle sequences get thinned out. Gordon: Very interesting. I'll have to get a hold of a 'director's cut' of one of your books some day :) Gordon: I found your knowledge of historical detail impressive and, to my eye, immaculate. What's your process for researching - do you use the looser resources on the web (Wikipedia etc.) to guide you then tighten up with source texts, or do you avoid the vagaries of the web and dive in to the trusted texts? How long would you say you spend on research vs writing? Kate: I go to online sources for fast fact-finding or for initial foraging—when it comes to the deep research, I still tend to fall back on books. Anthony Everitt's splendid biography of Hadrian was my Bible for this past book; I wore it to tatters. As for writing vs. researching, I do a lot of intensive reading and researching in the beginning as I'm crafting my plot, and then plunge into writing. But the research is never really done, is it? Sometimes you have to throw your daily wordcount out the window and spend three hours researching the Eleusinian Mysteries in greater depth, because the next scene requires it and you can't move forward until you've got more facts at your fingertips. Gordon: Hah - yes, I know only too well. Sometimes I try to leave a marker in my script (e.g. "Research Persian execution methods and update this scene") and move on, but the obsessive in me usually drags me back to do the research there and then. Gordon: How do you deal with historical uncertainty? For example, if you have only thin evidence for, say wedding customs in 2nd century AD Rome, how do you go about filling in gaps or choosing appropriate objects/sayings/ceremony? Kate: I try to focus my scene around the details that I know are right (red wedding veils and the bridal torch! I know for sure that 2nd century Roman weddings had them, so in they go). If I have to fill in the gap myself, I try to let common sense be the guide. Years ago, I remember obsessively researching camp followers and the Roman legions, because I really wanted women in a baggage train for my story, but mostly sources said women weren't allowed when legions were on the march. But I sat back and thought “There has never been an army in the history of the world that didn't have a trail of whores somewhere in the vicinity. Never. So as long as the legionaries aren't on an absolute killer of a speed-march, yes, I will include women in the baggage train.” That felt like a common-sense compromise to a historical gap. Gordon: What's next on the horizon for you? I hope there will be more from both of your series? And please tell me the Day of Fire gang will work together again... Kate: I'm pondering new book ideas at the moment. I'd like to write more in Rome and in the Renaissance, but the next is probably going to be something very new in a very different era. (Though it will probably still revolve in some way around people in the fringes of power, and how they influence the powerful.) And yes, I am hopeful that the Day of Fire gang will get another project going. I've got some ideas there, too . . . Gordon: Superb! Thanks for the chat, Kate, and please keep up the top work! You can visit Kate's website here, and be sure to check out her works and those of the Day of Fire gang. Istanbul. Constantinople. Byzantium. The City...It had been some eight years since my last visit, and so much has changed in that time. I now find myself writing for a living (thank you, thank you, thank you to all those who have supported me and helped spread the word about my books), and writing more often than not about this exquisite and enigmatic old city. Pavo and Apion have walked these streets in the Legionary and Strategos books, and now it was my turn once again. I was particularly looking for 'off the beaten track' late Roman and Byzantine ruins, so please forgive the lack of obvious marvels like the Hagia Sofia. Anyway, here are the highlights. Each day comes with a slideshow - just click on any pic to see the full gallery and to read the captions (usually a bit of the history or just some random warblings from me). Day 1: The Imperial Palace RegionWe experienced every season in our week in Istanbul: snow, rain, wind and fiery sunshine. Today, there were still snow drifts from the violent wintry storm the city had endured prior to our arrival. Still, it would keep us cool on our brisk walk around the city's first and easternmost hill which once housed the Imperial Palace (now known as the Sultanahmet district). The term ‘Imperial Palace’ is something of a misnomer as there wasn’t really one palace as such. In fact, the huge complex contained many fine manors and wondrous gardens spread across the terraced slopes of the hill. This palace region, as it is sometimes referred to, served as the home for Byzantine Emperors serving between the 4th and 11th centuries, after which the emperors moved to the Blachernae area and the wonders on the first hill fell into disrepair. Click on the image to open the full gallery (opens in a new window). Day 2: The Galata Region and the Istanbul Military MuseumThe trek over the Galata bridge was well worth it on this pleasant and sunny day, as it allowed us to take a bundle of snaps from the top of the Galata Tower (click on any pic to read some intriguing history associated with the structure - birdmen and jealous sultans!) and visit the gold mine of history that is the Istanbul Military Museum. Click on the image to open the full gallery (opens in a new window). Day 3: The Walls!Scottish folk are well-acquainted with sunburn, but not usually in February! Anyway, mild sunburn it was as we trekked first along the Marmara sea walls south of the city to Yedikule and then north, along the full length of the land walls to Blachernae and the Golden Horn. Walking along Kennedy Caddesi, outside the sea walls, it was interesting to consider that prior to the 1960s when this coastal motorway was built, Istanbul was a city surrounded by water – right up to its walls. Indeed, in his 1925 book, Mamboury recommends hiring a small boat and exploring the sea walls that way. If only! We had to make do instead with trudging on foot. As we passed the area once known as the Harbour of Julian to the Romans and the Kontoscalion to the Byzantines, I stumbled upon a lovely and evocative piece of history: in Ottoman times, the women used to bring their clothes to wash them in the harbour’s shallow waters, and they spoke of seeing the long-sunken turquoise/green outlines of Byzantine warships at the bottom. Thus, they named this area ‘Kadirga Limani’ (meaning Galley Harbour in Turkish). The harbour is long-gone thanks to the coast road, but the imagery still sends a shiver up my spine. Another highlight before we reached the start of the land walls was the fine vista of the Yenikapi excavations. It was here that in 2005, workers digging a tunnel under the Marmara Sea found the remains of the Ancient Harbour of Theodosius. Amongst the remains they found seven Byzantine galleys, wrecked in a storm around 1000 AD. But the real highlight of the day was the epic trek along the land walls: the triple defensive system of the towering inner wall, sturdy outer wall and broad moat cannot fail to stir the heart of any Byzantine enthusiast. How many sieges have those walls endured? How many men have been broken upon them? Anyway, I attempted part of this walk on the vertiginous (and vertigo-inducing, let me tell you), crumbling ramparts of the inner wall. I made it as far as the second military gate (the Belgrad Kapi) before clambering back down, rather more pale than I had been at the start. On we went past the five main gates and five military gates, towards the Blachernae Palace. Truly breathtaking. Click on the image to open the full gallery (opens in a new window). Day 4: The Imperial WayToday we trawled the old Imperial Way, or the 'Mese' as it is also known. This was the processional avenue for triumphal marches, leading from the land walls to the Imperial Palace via a series of glorious forums. There were also plenty of welcome detours (to coffee shops, kebab houses, wondrous mosques and churches and old ruins nestled in the backstreets off the main route). Click on the image to open the full gallery (opens in a new window). So, replete with historical facts (plus pistachio ice cream, cinamon salep, millet boza and turbo-charged turkish coffee), we headed for home. I hope you enjoyed the highlights.
Also, you might enjoy my related blog following my hunt for the site of the Battle of Adrianople in 378 AD. And, of course, if reading about Constantinople is your thing, then please check out my books, set in this very city in the late Roman and Byzantine eras!
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AuthorGordon Doherty: writer, history fan, explorer. My Latest BookArchives
March 2023
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