Chronicles of the Lost Kingdoms: Alaric I

This chronicle contains references of sexual violence. Reader discretion is advised.

Hello Traveler,

Rome, August 410 CE.

The Eternal City—unconquered for eight centuries—burns while barbarian Gothic warriors stride through the Forum Romanum. Their king, Alaric I, draped in imperial purple stolen from senatorial villas, stands before the Curia where Cicero once thundered. This is no mere savage warlord, but a man who spent his youth serving Rome, who learned Latin rhetoric in the lavish halls of Constantinople's , who understood Roman law better than most senators. This is Alaric, Rex Gothorum, and his three-day sack of Rome would echo through history as the death rattle of the ancient world.

Yet most know only this singular moment of destruction. What of the Gothic prince who dreamed of Roman titles? The federati commander betrayed by the empire he served? The Christian king whose bishops negotiated with popes?

Today, we uncover the complete saga of Alaric I—from Danubian birth to Italian grave—using every scrap of parchment, every whispered tradition, every archaeological fragment that survived the centuries. Prepare yourself for a tale of ambition, betrayal, and the catastrophic price of denying dignity to those who seek it.

The Making of a Gothic Prince (370-390 CE)

The Danube frontier, circa 370 CE.

Here, among the Thervingi Goths, our protagonist enters history—though frustratingly, no contemporary source records his exact birthdate. Jordanes, writing his Getica a century and a half later, claims Alaric descended from the semi-divine Balthi dynasty: "The Balthi, that is, the Bold, were among them, a line that produced many brave men."

But what did "noble birth" mean among fourth-century Goths? Archaeological evidence from Danubian Gothic settlements reveals a society in transition. Elite burials from this period—particularly the Sântana de Mureș-Chernyakhov culture sites—show Roman coins, Gothic fibulae, and steppe-style weapons buried together. Young Alaric grew up in a world where Gothic warriors wore Roman-style mail, where tribal assemblies debated in Gothic while using Latin legal terms, where Christianity competed with ancestral gods.

The pivotal moment came in 376 CE. Hunnic pressure drove the Thervingi across the Danube, seeking refuge in Roman territory. The six-year-old Alaric (if we accept the approximate 370 birth date) crossed with them.

As discussed in the Chronicle of Fritigern, What followed shaped everything. Roman officials, led by the comes Lupicinus, systematically abused the Gothic refugees. Ammianus reports Gothic parents trading their children for dog meat.. This betrayal—witnessed by the young Alaric—would echo through his entire career.

The explosion came at Adrianople, 378 CE. Emperor Valens died along with two-thirds of the Eastern Roman army, the greatest Roman military disaster since Cannae. Among the Gothic cavalry that shattered Roman legions rode teenage Gothic nobles, likely including Alaric. Orosius later claimed Alaric "was present at that battle as a youth."

Learning the Enemy (390-395 CE)

Emperor Theodosius I understood what his predecessors hadn't: it is better to harness Gothic martial prowess than fight against it. The foedus of 382 CE transformed yesterday's enemies into today's federati—allied troops serving Rome for land and subsidies. Young Alaric entered this system, rising through military ranks with startling speed.

By 391 CE, we find him commanding Gothic auxiliaries at the Battle of the Frigidus. Zosimus preserves the memory: "Theodosius placed the barbarian contingents in the front ranks, intending that the first clash would thin their numbers." Ten thousand Goths died in that vanguard—half their force—purchasing Theodosius's victory over the usurper Eugenius with their blood.

That pissed Alaric off. He immediately demanded that he be given the title and rank magister militum.

This wasn't mere ambition. Within the Late Roman system, only official rank such as magister militum brought legitimate authority and, crucially, regular pay for troops.

Without it, Gothic federati remained perpetual supplicants, dependent on the whims of the emperor. Alaric’s demands were completely ignored which in hindsight, probably wasn’t Theodosius’s best idea.

The Crown and the Rebellion (395-397 CE)

Theodosius I died January 17, 395 CE, leaving the empire split between his young sons Arcadius (East) and Honorius (West). Within months, the Visigoths who previously were known as the Thervingi, elected their Alaric as king.

The ceremony itself, reconstructed from later Gothic traditions and archaeological parallels, likely occurred on a shield-raising ritual common among Germanic peoples. Gothic warriors would have lifted Alaric on a shield while acclaiming him "Thiudans" (king) in their native tongue.

But what exactly did Gothic kingship mean in 395 CE? Not what Roman writers assumed. Alaric wasn't proclaimed emperor of a Gothic state—no such thing existed. Rather, he became war-leader of a polyethnic federation: Gothic farmers, Alan horsemen, escaped Roman slaves, Germanic deserters from Roman units. Sozomen notes this diversity: "Not only his countrymen, but many other barbarians, flocked to his standard."

Alaric's first move revealed his true goal. He didn't march against Roman cities but toward Constantinople, stopping only when the Eastern government opened negotiations. His demand? What it always has been—official Roman military rank. The Roman poet Claudian sneers at this "barbarian presumption," yet contemporary Roman law codes show Gothic federati officers routinely held such positions at the time.

The Dance of Betrayal (397-408 CE)

For the next decade, Alaric played a complex game with both the Eastern and Western empires, switching sides based on who offered better terms. This wasn't faithlessness but survival strategy—contemporary sources show both empires repeatedly broke agreements with him.

In 397, Eastern emperor Arcadius, guided by his chamberlain Eutropius, granted Alaric the title magister militum per Illyricum. Finally, legitimate Roman rank! Alaric settled his people in Epirus, collecting taxes and recruiting legally. For four years, the system worked.

Then in 401, opportunity knocked. Stilicho, the half-Vandal general controlling the Western empire for young Honorius, faced multiple crises. Alaric seized the opportunity and marched into Italy, not as invader but as a player in Roman politics who wielded violence as a chess piece.

This becomes clear when we examine Alaric's actions: he besieged cities but didn't massacre populations. He negotiated constantly. The Romans claim Stilicho defeated him at Pollentia (402 CE) and at Verona (403 CE). It couldn’t have been that devastating of a defeat, Stilicho immediately opened lines of communication after each battle.

Their secret correspondences are revealed in fragments by Zosimus, which show Alaric negotiating an alliance with Stilicho to seize Illyricum from the Eastern empire. In exchange, he would get the generalship of Gaul, senatorial rank, and integration of Gothic federati into regular army units.

The Death of Hope (408 CE)

His plans shattered on August 22, 408 CE. Stilicho, accused of treason by court factions, fell to the executioner's sword in Ravenna. Within days, Roman soldiers across Italy began massacring Gothic federati families—women and children of men serving Rome for decades.

Zosimus provides horrifying specifics: "In each city, upon a pre-arranged signal, they fell upon the wives and children of the barbarian auxiliaries and killed them all." Archaeological evidence from Aquileia and Ticinum confirms mass graves from this period containing Gothic-style grave goods mixed with Roman coins.

Thirty thousand Gothic warriors deserted to Alaric overnight, bringing news of murdered families. Olympiodorus preserves Alaric's response: "He mourned not as a king but as a father."

The First Siege of Rome (408 CE)

Alaric marched on Rome itself—not for conquest but compensation. His initial demands, preserved in detail by Zosimus, reveal a man still seeking accommodation despite everything that has happened between the Gothic people and the Roman state:

1. 5,000 pounds of gold

2. 30,000 pounds of silver

3. Hostages from noble families

4. Safe passage to Pannonia for his people

5. Annual grain supply guaranteed by treaty

The Roman Senate, led by the urban prefect Pompeianus, attempted negotiation while Emperor Honorius cowered in Ravenna. When senators suggested Alaric's demands would leave Rome destitute and spark resistance. He supposedly savagely replied: "The thicker the hay, the easier it is mowed.”

The City of Rome paid. Alaric withdrew. Hope flickered. Hopefully Honorius doesn’t fuck it up.

Honorius Fucks It Up (409 CE)

Honorius, safe in Ravenna's marshes, refused to honor the Senate’s negotiations. Worse still, his new puppet master disguised as his minister Olympius, ambushed Gothic envoys, violating longstanding sacred diplomatic immunity.

Alaric tired of dealing with an incompetent emperor, created his own emperor.

Priscus Attalus, Rome's urban prefect and Greek pagan intellectual, received imperial purple from Gothic hands. The ceremony in the Forum—barbarian king crowning Roman senator—spit in the face of every proud Roman tradition.

But Attalus proved incompetent. He refused Alaric's strategic advice while alienating both pagans and Christians. Within months of becoming emperor, Alaric publicly stripped him of purple—literally removing imperial regalia in full view of Roman crowds. The message was clear: Gothic power could create or destroy Roman authority at will.

Three Days That Shook the World (August 24-27, 410 CE)

By summer 410, all options expired. Honorius still refused negotiation. Alaric once again lay siege to the Eternal City. On August 24, someone opened the Salarian Gate—tradition says Gothic slaves within the city, though some sources suggest senatorial treachery.

What followed defied expectation. Yes, Goths looted palaces and melted down silver statues. But Alaric—Arian Christian himself—declared churches sanctuary. Orosius, hostile witness, admits: "He commanded that all who took refuge in sacred places, especially in the basilicas of the holy Apostles Peter and Paul, should be permitted to remain inviolate."

Contemporary accounts reveal surprising order amid chaos. According to St. Augustine. When Gothic soldiers discovered sacred vessels in a Christian woman's house, they formed procession to return them to St. Peter's, singing hymns. Romans joined the march, creating surreal scenes of conquerors and conquered united in religious ceremony.

The sexual violence, while real, remained limited compared to typical ancient sacks. St. Jerome, writing from Bethlehem, notes: "The city which had taken the whole world was itself taken; nay, it fell by famine before it fell by the sword, and there were but few to be found to be made prisoners."

Most remarkably, Alaric just left after three days. No occupation, no Gothic kingdom carved from Roman territory. He took hostages—including Emperor Honorius's sister Galla Placidia—but marched south seeking ships for Africa, Rome's grain source.

The River Grave (410 CE)

Fate denied Alaric his African dream. Near Consentia (modern Cosenza) in Bruttium, fever struck. Within days, the Gothic king died—aged perhaps forty, having spent his entire adult life seeking accommodation with an empire that preferred his submission to his service.

Jordanes preserves the extraordinary burial ritual: "They turned aside the river Busentus near Consentia...and in the midst of its bed they buried Alaric with much treasure. Then they turned back the waters into their channel, and that none might know the place, they slew all the diggers."

Archaeological surveys of the Busento River by the University of Calabria, using ground-penetrating radar have found nothing—the slaves' silence holds even now.

The Blood-Stained Legacy

Alaric's corpse vanished beneath Italian waters, but his impact rippled through centuries.

He shattered Rome's essential myth—its inviolability. St. Augustine spent thirteen years writing De Civitate Dei in an attempt to explain how God could permit barbarians to humble the Eternal City. That theological masterwork, foundation of medieval Christian political thought, exists because one Gothic king refused to accept second-class status.

Contemporary Roman writers, even hostile ones, reveal grudging respect. Orosius admits Alaric "was a Christian, albeit infected by Arian perfidy" who showed "wonderous reverence for religion". Even Claudian, the hostile bard who hated him, calls him "shrewd in council, mighty in war."

The Questions That Haunt

What if Theodosius had made Alaric magister militum after the Battle of Frigidus? What if Stilicho had lived to complete their alliance? What if Honorius had accepted any of Alaric's offers? The sack of Rome—the pivotal moment that sent shockwaves through the empire—when ancient became medieval—might never have occurred.

Instead, Roman xenophobia created its own destruction. Every betrayal, from starving Gothic refugees in 376 to massacring federati families in 408, forged the weapon that pierced Rome's heart. Alaric didn't destroy Rome from barbarous hatred but from civilized frustration—the rage of a man who mastered Roman law, fought for Roman standards, sought Roman titles, and received only Roman contempt.

Modern historians debate whether to call him last of the great Germanic warrior-kings or first of the Romano-barbarian generals who dominated the fifth century. But perhaps Alaric defies such categories. He was something new: the assimilated outsider whose rejection radicalized him, the loyal soldier whose betrayal transformed him into a revolutionary.

In Gothic oral tradition, preserved in fragments by Cassiodorus, Alaric's name meant "ruler of all." He never achieved that impossible dream. But in seeking to rule within Rome's system, then destroying faith in that system's permanence, he ruled something greater—the transition between worlds.

The Busento river keeps its secrets. Somewhere beneath Calabrian mud lies a Gothic king dressed in Roman purple, surrounded by senatorial gold, guarded by murdered slaves. A fitting tomb for a man who embodied every paradox of a dying Rome: barbarian and citizen, destroyer and preserver, Arian heretic and Christian protector, Gothic king and Roman general.

He sought dignity and received death. But in that seeking, in that spectacular failure, Alaric I carved his name deeper than any title could—not in marble but in the ruins of certainty, the collapsed mythical architecture of eternal empire.

Finis

Until our next chronicle unfolds, may your roads be safe and your ale cold.

The Unreliable Narrator, Arch-Loremaster of the Hall of Legends

PS: Below are some extra ancient texts if you can’t sleep at night or have an unnatural undying hatred of Pagans and Goths.

• The Seven Books of History Against the Pagans by Orosius

• The Gothic War by Claudian

• Res Gestae by Ammianus Marcellinus