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Iteresting as always, though I haven't quite finished it... I noticed the rivername Yaksha, and I recall that in some Indian mythologies those are actually beings, not a river. Might the river be named after these beings... or even the reverse, the beings named after the river after the Hindi-speakers moved on from Central Asia into the Indus and Ganges valleys?

I'm not a linguist, so I'm afraid I can't be of much help here. In the Avesta, the Amu Darya is called Yasksha/Vaksha, and this later name survives in the name of the Vakhsh River (also called Surkhob), a tributary of the Amu Darya on its right bank in Tajikistan. The Sanskrit name of the Amu Darya is Vaksu, although this name does not appear in the Rigveda, which is the older of the Vedas; as you can see it's quite close to the Avestan name Vaksha, but this is as far as my (non-existant) knowledge of old Indo-Iranian ethymology goes :oops:.

But both the "primitive" Avestan and Vedic religions venerated rivers, that's quite clear. There are many coincidences and similarities in toponyms and river names between the Avesta and the Vedas, which is to be expected due to the shared origins and close cultural links between Indic and Iranian languages. One of the theories about the location of the mythical Naditama Sarasvati River of the Rigveda for example is to identify it with the Avestan Harahvaiti (or Haraxvaiti); which has been identified by scholars with the Helmand River. Phonetically, both names are very similar and the description of the Sarasvati River and its valley in the Rigveda fits quite well with the Helmand valley. And as an interesting note: the Harahvaiti/Helmand is considered a "sacred river" in some of the Avestan hymns, and the description of the Helmand in the Avesta is strangely similar to the description of the Sarasvati in the Rigveda.
 
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aaaw, that "kandahar is named after alexander" was one of my favourite fun facts :(

also the confusion about the size of sogdiana may be like the use of ethopia and sudan as a shorthand for "any part of africa below the sahara"

edit: also I'm a bit ashamed to admit that I was a bit baffled by the concept of soviet archeologists, that doesn't really seem to rhyme with their ideology
 
7.10 THE CHIONITES.
7.10 THE CHIONITES.

According to Ammianus Marcellinus, after the third siege of Nisibis in 350 CE, the Sasanian king Šābuhr II was forced to quit the western borders of Ērānšahr because a new danger had appeared in Central Asia:

For already the Massagetae had invaded Persia and were causing damage there.

It’s precisely at this point in history when the surviving text of Ammianus’ Res Gestae picks up, and for the following twenty-eight years (until the Roman defeat at Adrianople in 378 CE), we enjoy the rare luxury of having a high-quality contemporary source by a direct eyewitness covering the events in the Roman empire. In 350 CE, taking advantage of Šābuhr II’s troubles in Central Asia, Constantius II left the Middle East with his praesentalis army to fight the usurpation of Magnentius in Gaul, while the western provinces who had been until then ruled by his brother Constans took sides; some aligned with Constantius II, others with Magnentius and Illyricum with the general Vetranio, who proclaimed himself as augustus, allegedly at the insistence of Constans’ sister Constantina. Constantius II acknowledged Vetranio’s claim, probably in order to divide any possible support for Magnentius; as soon as he reached Illyricum, in December 25, 350 CE both emperors met in public before their assembled armies (either at Serdica, Naissus or Sirmium, the sources are contradictory about the location) and Vetranio abdicated of his titles, and accepted the comfortable retirement in Bithynia that Constantius II offered him. In September 351 CE, the armies of Magnentius and Constantius II clashed at Mursa in Pannonia (modern Osijek, in Croatia) and in one of the bloodiest and most destructive battles in the history of Roman civil wars, Constantius II inflicted a decisive defeat on his foe. Magnentius though managed to feel to Gaul, where the final battle took place at Mons Seleucus in July 353 CE (located in the modern commune of La Bâtie-Montsaléon, in the Hautes-Alpes department in southeastern France).

But this was not the end of Constantius II’s troubles in Europe. In order to defeat Magnentius as fast as possible, Constantius II had allied himself with the Franks, Alamanni and Sarmatians, who now refused to retreat from Roman territory, and so Constantius II had to embark in a series of costly and time-consuming campaigns along the Rhine and Danube to restore the European limes. He also had to deal with the problem of succession. He was childless, so he decided to recall his cousin Constantius Gallus (who with his brother Julian were the only other male members of the House of Constantine still alive and was living in internal exile somewhere in Asia Minor) and had him proclaimed as caesar in Sirmium on March 15, 351 CE. Gallus was sent to the East as Constantius II’s representative and presumptive heir, but according to Ammianus’ account, his “debauchery” and “misconduct” there was reported back to Constantius II, who recalled him to the West. While traveling to meet Constantius, Gallus was stopped, arrested, tried and executed at Pola (modern Pula, in Croatia) in 354 CE, after which Constantius II, who was still childless, had no other option but raising his only remaining cousin Julian to the rank of caesar. Julian was summoned to the West and he was proclaimed caesar at Mediolanum (modern Milan) on November 6th, 355 CE, and was married to Constantius II’s sister Helena.

Solidus-Constantius-Gallus-thessalonica-RIC-149.jpg

Gold solidus of Constantius Gallus as caesar; mint of Thessalonica. In the obverse: D(ominus) N(oster) CONSTANTIVS NOB(ilissimus) CAES(ar). On the reverse: GLORIA REI PVBLICAE (lit. “glory to the republics”), a celebration of the twin capitals of Rome and Constantinople, symbolized by two female figures wearing mural crowns.

After the fiasco with Gallus, Constantius II did not send Julian to the East, but instead he sent him to Gaul, where the situation was still far from settled, with the Roman generals showing themselves incapable of containing the Frankish and Alamannic warbands that were ravaging the country; according to Ammianus, the situation was so chaotic among other things because Constantius II’s commander in Gaul, the magister militum Silvanus, was “falsely accused” by Constantius II’s courtiers of plotting an usurpation and was subsequently “forced” to proclaim himself as augustus in Cologne on August 11th, 355 CE, in a strange episode that some modern historians suspect could have been an invention by Ammianus to justify the role played in the execution/murder of Silvanus by his own patron, the comes Ursicinus.

Šābuhr II did not restart hostilities against the Romans until 359 CE, and at that date Constantius II and the caesar Julian were still bogged down in Gaul and Illyricum respectively. According to Ammianus, during these nine years Šābuhr II remained “encamped” in the eastern borders of his empire, without offering more details. According to Ammianus though, the Sasanian commanders along the Roman border launched frequent raids and plundering expeditions against the Roman eastern provinces and Armenia (Res Gestae, XV, 13.4):

While these men were in league and enriching themselves (i.e. the Roman high officials in the East in Constantius II’s absence) by bringing mutual gain one to the other, the Persian generals stationed by the rivers, while their king was busied in the farthest bounds of his empire, kept raiding our territories with predatory bands, now fearlessly invading Armenia and sometimes Mesopotamia, while the Roman officers were occupied in gathering the spoils of those who paid them obedience.

Following Ammianus’ account, the Praetorian Prefect of the East Strategius Musonianus opened on his own initiative peace talks with the Sasanian commander across the river Tamsapor (Tahm-Šābuhr) in 357 CE. Considering Constantius II’s personality, I find this a bit difficult to believe, and I think that it’s quite more credible that he was acting on Constantius II’s secret orders, in order to avoid any damage to the emperor’s prestige if the negotiations failed. This is Ammianus’ account (Res Gestae, XVI, 9.1-4):

But the Persians in the East, rather by thieving and robbery than (as their former manner was) in set battles, kept driving off booty of men and animals; sometimes they were successful, being unexpected; again, they lost, overmatched by the great number of our soldiers; occasionally they were not allowed to see anything at all which could be carried off. None the less, Musonianus, the praetorian prefect, a man (as I have said before) gifted with many excellent accomplishments, but corrupt and easy to turn from the truth by a bribe, inquired into the designs of the Persians through emissaries of his who were adepts in deceit and incrimination; and he took into his counsels on this subject Cassianus, dux of Mesopotamia, who had been toughened by various campaigns and dangers. When the two had certain knowledge from the unanimous reports of their scouts that Sapor, on the remotest frontiers of his realm, was with difficulty and with great bloodshed of his troops driving back hostile tribesmen, they made trial of Tamsapor, the commander nearest to our territory, in secret interviews through obscure soldiers, their idea being that, if chance gave an opportunity, he should by letter advise the king finally to make peace with the Roman emperor, in order that by so doing he might be secure on his whole western frontier and could rush upon his persistent enemies. Tamsapor consented and relying on this information, reported to the king that Constantius, being involved in very serious wars, entreated and begged for peace. But while these communications were being sent to the Chionitae and Euseni, in whose territories Sapor was passing the winter, a long time elapsed.

Here for the first time we have the names of the peoples with which Šābuhr II was engaged: Chionitae and Euseni; these are not “antique” names like the term Massagetae that Ammianus used earlier in his text (an archaism borrowed from older Greek authors), but names that are not found in earlier Graeco-Latin texts. The term Euseni has puzzled scholars for a long time, because it does not appear elsewhere in any other western accounts (Greek, Latin, Syriac. Armenian, etc.), and it’s been impossible to relate it to any eastern people known to us. In the early XX century, the German scholar Josef Marquart offered a possible solution by emendating it to Cuseni, which was the name that Classical authors used to refer to the Kushans. But his proposal has not been accepted by everybody and is still disputed to this day, because it raises new problems. First of all, it’s linguistically impossible for Cuseni to evolve into Euseni in Latin, and so the only possible explanation for this evolution of a C into an E is a scribal mistake. That’s a possible explanation, but it’s impossible to prove because the work of Ammianus has arrived to us only through a single manuscript that was copied by a humanist in a German monastery in the XV century and was published in Florence a few years later. Also, the word Euseni is repeated more than once across the text, and this raises serious doubts among the scholars: one scribal mistake is believable, but repeated mistakes in the same letter of the same word across the same text is quite hard to believe. And in addition to that, there’s of course the historical problem: in 357 CE, the Kushan empire had ceased to exist as such, and only a residual kingdom/principality in northern India remained, possibly beyond the Indus in the Punjab.

Shapur-II-Drahm-03.jpg

Silver drahm of the Sasanian Šahān Šāh Šābuhr II. The king is wearing his usual crenellated crown with a large cloth korymbos atop it, studded with what look like pearls, a typical accoutrement of Sasanian royal regalia that symbolized the kings divine “farr”, their “royal fortune” that entitled them to reign. This crown is exactly the same one worn by his ancestor Šābuhr I, and Šābuhr II probably chose it deliberately, in order to make a statement about his intentions to bring Ērānšahr back to its former glory.

Some historians have proposed that perhaps Ammianus meant that Šābuhr II was campaigning “in the old lands of the Kushan empire”, as they would have been still known to the Romans as “the Cuseni lands”, and again that’s perfectly possible (indeed, the name “Kushan” showed a remarkable resiliency in Central Asia, and survived into the V and VI centuries CE in Sogdiana and Ṭoḵārestān, as proved by epigraphy and numismatics), but what’s more puzzling is that according to Ammianus the Euseni allied themselves with Šābuhr II in 359 CE and invaded the Roman East with the Sasanian army. Yet another possibility (within the same proposal that Euseni is an equivalent or mistake for Cuseni) is that the name Euseni referred to the Sasanian vassal kingdom of Kušān Šāhr, and that the participation of the Euseni in Šābuhr II’s 359 CE invasion simply reflects the participation of the Kušān Šāh and his army alongside the main Sasanian army, as was to be expected of a vassal kingdom ruled by a cadet branch of the main Sasanian line. And finally, some scholars prefer to see in these mysterious Euseni a revolt by the native elites of the eastern territories ruled by the Sasanians who identified themselves as “Kushans” (even if they were Bactrians, Sogdians or otherwise) in order to throw off the Sasanian rule over their lands.

Khodadad Rezakhani has also advanced the hypothesis that the Euseni/Cuseni could be the Kidarites (a clan or dynasty of the Huns), as in later coinage (still within the late IV century CE) that they minted in the territories that they’d conquered in Central Asia they called themselves Kušān Šāhs and deliberately appropriated the iconography, regalia and titles of the old Kushan kings and their Sasanian successors. In support of this theory, Rezakhani points out that the Armenian author Faustus of Byzantium also refers to the Kidarites as “Kushans” in his chronicle. But I must repeat once more that none of these explanations have been wholly accepted to this day and so the identity of the Euseni is still an open issue.

But with the Chionitae, it’s a whole different issue, because this people has been identified and nowadays most historians accept that this is the first appearance of the Huns in the western and Central Asian historical accounts, although there are still some doubts about it. As I wrote in an earlier post, the defeat of the Xiongnu and the fall of their empire in the eastern steppes at the hands of the Han empire and the Xianbei tribes had been once considered the end of this people, but in the last twenty years a reappraisal of eastern sources (Chinese dynastic chronicles and Sogdian letters), combined with some archaeological evidence has led most scholars to reconsider their position.

In 220 CE, the Han dynasty of China fell after four centuries of rule, and the country disintegrated into several minor states; until the reunification of the territory by the Sui dynasty in 581 CE China stopped exerting a dominant political role over the Tarim Basin and was unable to counter the rise of successive nomadic empires in the eastern steppe, none of which though would be as prestigious, extensive and powerful as the old Xiongnu empire until the rise of the Göktürk Khaganate in the VI century CE. China fragmented into several minor states which were generally short-lived, and the ones in the northern part of the country came under increasing control of dynasties of northern nomadic origin, although their ruling elites soon became Sinicized and imitated the customs and practices of the old Han court, one of which was the redaction of dynastic chronicles.

Immediately after the end of the Han dynasty, China was divided into three kingdoms, this was the Three Kingdoms Period, which lasted from 220 to 280 CE. The northern part of China (the Gansu corridor and the Yellow River valley) became the state of Cao Wei, which lasted from 220 to 266 CE. Due to its geographical corridor and its control of the Gansu corridor which was the main land route between central China and Central Asia, the state of Cao Wei had an interest in the events in the northern steppe. The historian Yu Huan wrote between 239 and 245 CE the Weilüe (meaning “A brief history of Wei”); this chronicle has been lost in its original form, but quite extensive passages have survived as quotes in later works. And in these quotations, the Weilüe mentions specifically that at the time of its redaction (the mid-III century CE) the northern Xiongnu still existed as an organized political entity somewhere near the Altai mountains, to the west of their original homeland in the Mongolian steppe.

China-Three-Kingdoms.png

The Three Kingdoms (Wei, Shu and Wu) that succeeded the unified Eastern Han dynasty in China after its fall in 220 CE.

Another Chinese source that provides us with information about the fate of the northern Xiongnu is the Weishu. The Weishu (meaning the “Book of Wei”), is a Chinese historical text compiled by Wei Shou from 551 to 554 CE, and it describes the history of the Northern Wei and Eastern Wei states from 386 to 550 CE. The Northern Wei state, which accomplished the reunification of northern China after 439 CE before becoming split again into Western and Eastern Wei in 535 CE, was ruled by a “barbarian” dynasty, the Tuoba clan, which was of Xianbei origin. The original work had 114 volumes, and its has survived mostly, with minor lacunae which were later “patched up” with material taken from other contemporary works. Again, the geographical situation of the Northern and Eastern Wei states and the ethnicity of their ruling clan (although they became also increasingly Sinicized over time, to the extreme that all Tuoba names were officially forbidden under Emperor Xiaowen of the Northern Wei dynasty in 496 CE and changed to Han names). The Weishu offers also more information about the whereabouts of the northern Xiongnu after they fled the eastern steppe: towards the beginning of the V century CE, to the northwest of the Rouran (then the ruling power in Mongolia) there were still in the vicinity of the Altai the remaining descendants of the Xiongnu.

Northern-Wei-Cataphract.jpg

Terracotta statuette of a cataphract found in a grave dated to the Northern Wei dynasty (386 – 584 CE).

The Weilüe provides us with a clear sense of the geopolitical context in which these Xiongnu/Huns were situated in the III century CE. The Weilüe notes that the Zhetysu region (in modern eastern Kazakhstan, also called Semirechye in Russian) directly to the southwest of the Altai (where the Xiongnu were located according to these Chinese sources) was still occupied by the Wusun people, and the area to the west of this area and north of the Kangju people (whose territory was centered around the middle valley of the Syr Daryā) was the territory of the Dingling tribes. The Wusun and the Kangju are said in the Weilüe to have neither expanded nor shrunk since Han times. The Dingling were a Turkic or proto-Turkic people which were quoted in Chinese sources from the II century BCE onwards; at that time, they were living in the are between Lake Baikal and northern Mongolia and were among the tribal groups conquered by Modu Shanyu, the founder of the Xiongnu empire; from the I century BCE onwards they took part in several large revolts against the Xiongnu. Once more according to Chinese sources, at this time a fraction of the Dingling migrated to the west and settled “in Kangju”, and this is the group that we’re referring to in here.

The Wusun on the other part are considered by Étienne de la Vaissière and other scholars to have been Iranian speakers (other scholars believe them to have been Tokharian or even Old Indic speakers) and were also one of the tribal groups subjugated by Modu Shanyu. After their initial defeat by the Xiongnu, the Wusun became close allies of the Xiongnu, and expelled the Yuezhi from the Illi valley (in Zhetysu) where they settled; the Yuezhi fled southwards to Sogdiana and Bactria and from one of their ruling clans would rise the Kushan dynasty. But later, relations between the Wusun and their Xiongnu rulers soured and the Wusun took part in several great revolts against them; during the III century CE they were still settled in Zhetysu, between Lake Balkhash and the Tian Shan Range. Relations between them and the Kangju first and the Sogdian principalities don’t seem to have been very cordial.

Wusun-Rider-burial-mound-Tenlik-III-II-BCE-Kazakhstan.jpg

Golden belt buckle found in a kurgan belonging to the Wusun culture, III – II centuries BCE, Kazakhstan.

In 1992 came to light the first of series of fragmentary inscriptions on ceramic plaques found at the Kazakh site of Kultobe, by the river Arys. The scholars Frantz Grenet and Nicholas Sims-Williams identified the script in them as Sogdian and translated then in 2006 – 2007. They were discovered in the remains of a citadel on the banks of the river, at the foot of a plateau that had been once inhabited by nomads, as shown by the big kurgans overlooking the valley. The inscriptions could not be dated with any certainty, but linguists believe that on paleographical and grammatical grounds they should be older than the Sogdian letters from the early IV century CE; and as De la Vaissière noted, the situation they seem to describe corresponds very closely to the one described by Chinese sources for the I century CE in that geographical area.

By then, the formerly unified Kangju state, centered on Čāč, had dissolved into a confederation of oasis-states. This situation seems to have lingered up to the late III century CE, as the Paikuli inscription of Narsē seems to describe the same confederacy under the name “Kēš, Soğd and Čāč”. It seems clear that the inscriptions refer to a colonization effort originating from Kangju as a whole; they describe the creation of a border fortress by a general from Čāč with the agreements and participation, and maybe even a supply of colonists, by all the main southern oasis in Kangju (i.e. the Sogdian oasis, which are explicitly named in the inscriptions: Čāč, Samarkand, Naḵšab, Kēš and Bukhara). According to the inscriptions, this strategical move was conducted at the expense of a people called the wδ’nn’p, which were identified by Étienne de la Vaissière as the equivalent of the Wusun of Chinese sources.

Mongolia-330-555.jpg

The central and eastern Eurasian Steppe according to the Weishu.

But the geopolitical picture provided by the later Weishu is one that has drastically changed. According to it, a people called the Yueban Xiongnu were now occupying the territory of the Wusun and it further points out that these Yueban were a horde of the Shanyu of the Northern Xiongnu. It tells us that when the Northern Xiongnu were defeated by the Han imperial armies they fled westwards. The weak elements among them were left behind in the area north of the city of Qiuci (now in central Xinjiang). Afterwards, this weak group of Xiongnu is said to have subjected the land of the Wusun to form the new state of Yueban, while the stronger group of Xiongnu/Huns are reported to have headed further west. The Weishu tells us that the remnants of the defeated Wusun were to be found in the V century CE in the Pamirs. Archaeology in addition to the written evidence shows that the main group of Huns/Xiongnu in the Altai region (i.e. the “strong” Xiongnu as opposed to the “weak” Yueban Xiongnu) had already started to absorb the Dingling Turkic tribes to their west, an area corresponding to modern northern/northeastern Kazakhstan, and the Irtysh and Middle Ob regions (western Siberia) in the III century CE. This corresponds exactly with the areas from which the Huns of Europe and the Huns of Central Asia would later start their trek to Europe and Sogdiana respectively. The Weishu also confirms that the Central Asian White Huns originated from the Altai region and moved into Central Asia ca. 360 CE, at exactly the same time the European Huns were moving into Europe at the expense of the Alans and later the Goths. The Weishu further specifically states that the V century CE rulers of Sogdiana, that is the White Huns, were of Xiongnu origin.

The identification of the European Huns with the Central Asian Huns and of both groups with the Xiongnu of the ancient Chinese chronicles has a long story in western historiography since it was first proposed by the French orientalist Joseph de Guignes in his Histoire générale des Huns, des Mongoles, des Turcs et des autres Tartares occidentaux (1756–1758). This hypothesis has caused incessant debates since its first appearance and rivers of ink to flow, with some scholars being fiercely opposed to it (like the renowned Austrian-American Sinologist Otto J. Maenchen-Helfen) and others supporting it. The most recent trend seems to be in support of it, since the essays written on the subject by the French scholar Étienne de la Vaissière in the 2000s, which have been further expanded by other authorities. The identification of the Huns (European and Central Asian ones) with the ancient Xiongnu is based on several grounds.

First, there is the study of the Chinese sources, which I’ve already exposed above.

Secondly, there’s the linguistic evidence; I’m no linguist (and certainly not an expert in Iranian, Chinese or Turkic languages), but I will try to put together a brief summary in here. Today it seems clear to historians and linguists that the name Hun was the name that the ancient Xiongnu/Huns used to refer to themselves. Arriving to this conclusion has taken a lot of time and effort to scholars, and I will try now to offer a small glimpse of the principal factors that have been a part in this process. In 1948, the German Iranologist Walter Henning published a new translation of a text that was already known: the second of the Ancient Sogdian Letters. This letter was written by a Sogdian trader named Nanaivande somewhere in the Gansu corridor, and was addressed to an unknown recipient in Samarkand; the letter has been dated very precisely to 313 CE. In this letter, Nanaivande informs his correspondent in Samarkand about the recent fall of the capital city of Luoyang in northern China at the hands of the Xwn (pronounced “Khūn”). This event is also referred to in Chinese sources; according to them, the Southern Xiongnu (a fraction of the Xiongnu that had surrendered to the Eastern Han in the II century CE and had been resettled by them in the Ordos region) conquered in 311 CE the city of Luoyang, which was the capital of the Jin dynasty, burned the city to the ground and captured emperor Huai of Jin. The letter never arrived in Samarkand; together with other letters addressed to correspondents outside China, they were confiscated by the Chinese authorities in Dunhuang, stored and then forgotten until they were discovered in the early XX century.

Sogdian-Letter.jpg

One of the Ancient Sogdian Letters from Dunhuang.

This exact coincidence of events led scholars to consider that the “barbarians” that the Chinese called Xiongnu were the same that the Sogdians knew as Xwn; a name that is here first attested in Sogdian which which would appear with frequency in Sogdian texts in the two and a half following centuries. The Sogdian pronunciation of Xwn is very close to the pronunciation of Hun, but what’s even more interesting is that the reconstructed pronunciation of the name Xiongnu according to the pronunciation of Ancient Chinese is also quite similar to it. The Chinese script is a logographic script that has changed very little across the centuries (or at least before the introduction of Simplified Chinese in the PRC in the 1950s), but while the script has changed little, the spoken Chinese language has changed a lot since Han times. To put in in other words: today a cultivated Chinese reader and Sima Qian could understand each other with little problem in writing, but their forms of spoken Chinese would be mutually unintelligible. Thus, historically the spoken Chinese language has been divided into Old Chinese (1250 BCE – 600 CE), Middle Chinese (601 CE – 1200 CE) and Modern Chinese (1200 CE to the present). This means that the set of characters that is read in modern Mandarin Chinese as Xiongnu was read in a different form in Old Chinese, when the Xiongnu existed and were given this name by the Chinese.

The Chinese name Xiongnu is formed by two characters: 匈奴. The meaning of these two logograms has not changed since Han times: “howling (or “fierce”) slave”. It was obviously a derogatory name, but modern scholars like De la Vaissière point out that the ancient Chinese, even when they were naming foreign enemy peoples with deliberately derogatory names, usually tried to make these Chinese names as phonetically close to the foreign original names as possible, but they were obviously constricted by the rigidities of the Chinese script (this is an important point; the constraint was caused by the availability of logograms in Chinese script, not by the phonetics of Old Chinese). And so, modern attempts at reconstructing the Old Chinese pronunciation of the first of these two logograms (匈) suggest that the original pronunciation might have been something close to *ŋ̊oŋ (in linguistics, “*” before a word indicates a hypothetical, reconstructed word), which is again quite similar to Hun or Xwn.

But the linguistic clues don’t end here. Another important linguistic testimony in this subject has been transmitted by the Buddhist monk Zhu Fahu. He was born in Dunhuang (just on the Chinese border) in 233 CE, and at the age of eight he became a novice in a Buddhist monastery, where he later took the Sanskrit name Dharmarakṣa. According to Buddhist tradition, he travelled extensively across the “western regions” and returned to China with a number of Buddhist texts which he then proceeded to translate into Chinese with the help of several associates, both Chinese and foreigners. Zhu Fahu first began his translation career in Chang'an (present day Xi'an) in 266 CE, and later moved to Luoyang, the capital of the newly formed Jin Dynasty. He was also active in Dunhuang for some time as well and alternated between the three locations. It was in Chang'an that he made the first known translation of the Lotus Sutra and the Ten Stages Sutra, two texts that later became definitive for Chinese Buddhism, in 286 CE and 302 CE, respectively. Altogether, Zhu Fahu translated around one hundred and fifty-four sūtras. Many of his works were greatly successful, they circulated widely across northern China in the III century CE and became the subject of exegetical studies and scrutiny by Chinese monks in the IV century CE.

Yumenguan.jpg

The Gate of Jade (Yumenguan), west of Dunhuang, marked the Chinese border since the times of Emperor Wu of the Western Han. These are the remains of the fortress erected by the Han at this location, where the Great Wall ended.

Two of these texts that he translated were the Tathāgataguhya-sūtra and the Lalitavistara. The original Sanskrit versions of these two texts included the term Hūṇa, and Zhu Fahu translated them into Chinese as Xiongnu. De la Vaissière points out that this choice of words by Zhu Fahu is especially telling, because in the original Sanskrit versions of both texts, this term appeared in lists of peoples written from an Indo-centric point of view. When Zhu Fahu had to translate these lists into Chinese, he realized that it would be pointless to translate it verbatim, as many of these peoples would have been unknown and thus meaningless to a Chinese readership, so he only kept for direct translations those names that had sense for a Chinese audience:
  • Sanskrit Pahlava (for the Arsacid Parthians) is translated as Anxi (a name already established in the Shiji).
  • Sanskrit Tukhāra (the Kushans) is translated as Yuezhi (already a name established since Han times).
  • Sanskrit Yavana (literally “the Greeks”, derived from “Ionian”) is translated as Daqin (the name used since Han times to refer to the Roman empire and for extension to the Hellenistic world).
So, Zhu Fahu’s decision to render Hūṇa as Xiongnu is quite significant in this context, and it should also be taken into consideration that Hūṇa is not an Indian word, so it must’ve come into Sanskrit from a foreign language.

Then there’s also the Sasanian and Mediterranean perspective. As I already noted, the word Chionitae employed by Ammianus is the first appearance of this word in any know Latin or Greek text. Its origin was a puzzle for historians and linguists until it was pointed out that the term bears a remarkable phonetical similarity to a term found in an apocalyptic Middle Persian text written during the Sasanian period, the Bahman Yašt, a commentary (Zand) of an Avestan text now lost. In its fifth and sixth chapters, this eschatological text describes the calamities that would befall the land of the Aryans at the end of the tenth millennium of the Zoroastrian calendar: it would be invaded by the Arabs, Romans, Turks, Xyōn, Tibetans, Chinese and other foreign peoples who would cause the decay of religion, breakdown of social order, debasement of law and morality, and degeneration of nature.

What’s interesting in this text is the appearance of the term Xyōn (or Hyōn), which many historians and linguists think is the source for the Latin term Chionitae of Ammianus’ text, and which bears obvious phonetic parallelisms with the Sogdian term Xwn. As with the Chinese term Xiongnu, the Middle Persian term Xyōn also plays with a double meaning: on one side, it’s phonetically similar to Hun, but on another side it’s a derivation of the Avestan term X’iiaona (or Hyaona), the name of a tribe which is described in the Avesta as a foe of king Vištāspa, the patron of Zoroaster. In this way, it was possible to establish a clear and deliberate parallelism between the Avestan king Vištāspa and his tribal enemies and the reigning Sasanian Šahān Šāh and his Central Asian nomadic enemies. Further study of the Zoroastrian Middle Persian literature led to the discovery of further references to the Xyōn; in the Pahlavi tradition the Xyōn are counted among the enemies of the Sasanian Šahān Šāh Pērōz (459 – 484 CE) in his struggle against the Hephthalites in the later V century CE.

The Bahman Yašt also makes an interesting reference to further divisions among the Xyōn: the Xyōn proper, the Heftal (Hephthalites), the Karmīr Xyōn (“Red Xyōn”) and the Sped Xyōn (“White Xyōn”). Scholars have noticed clear analogies between these Middle Persian terms and Sanskrit terms of the Gupta era: Śveta Hūṇa or Sita Hūṇa (“White Huns”) and Hala Hūṇa (“Dark Huns”, or “Red Huns”). The issue though has been further confused because the VI century CE Eastern Roman author Procopius of Caesarea used the expression Leukoi Ounnoi (“White Huns”) to refer to the Hephthalites that were fighting the Sasanians in the east, while adding that they were referred to as “white” Huns because they were “European-like” in appearance and not “swarthy” like other Huns.

But today, Procopius' explanation has been thoroughly discredited. The American scholar Edwin Pulleyblank pointed out that these names are not artistical licenses or fantasies by Iranian or Indian writers, but that they probably reflect the symbolical and cultural value of colors in the social and political hierarchies of the Eurasian steppe nomadic societies. Pulleyblank pointed out that the color white was simply symbolic of “West” among steppe nomads. Black signified “North” and red the South, hence the existence also of Red Huns (referred to as Kermichiones in later Greek sources or Alkhon/Alkhan -as we’ll see in later chapters- from the Turkic prefix “Al-“ for “scarlet” added to the term “Hun”, meaning “Red Huns”, in coins found in Ṭoḵārestān and Gandhāra), who were the southern wing of the Huns. The Ukrainian scholar Omeljan Pritsak also pointed out that in steppe societies the color black signifying “North” and the color blue signifying “East”, carried connotations of greatness and supremacy and almost always had precedence over white (West) and red (South). Thus, whichever group constituted the Black or Blue Huns (if they existed or are identifiable with known Hunnic groups such as Attila’s Huns in Europe or the Yueban Huns in Kazakhstan) probably possessed seniority over the White Huns, at least initially. The fact that the color black, kara in Turkic, suggested elevated status among the European Huns also as it did among other Inner Asian Turkic peoples, seems to be confirmed by the report by Olympiodorus of Thebes, an Eastern Roman of the V century CE that the supreme king of the (European) Huns was called Karaton.

This utterly confusing “salad of names” (Chionites, Huns, Xiongnu, Xyōn, Xwn, Karmīr Xyōn, Sped Xyōn, Śveta Hūṇa, Kermichiones, Alkhons/Alkhans, etc.) gets even messier by the fact that it’s quite possible that these Hunnic groups were called also at given times by the name of their ruling clan, like it happened centuries earlier with the Kushans, who were initially just one of the five ruling clans of the Yuezhi people, and whose name was imposed over that of the whole people. This seems to be the case with the Kidarites, Hephthalites and Nēzak Huns, who were named thus after their ruling clan or dynasty. We should keep this in mind when dealing with the Central Asian Huns in the following chapters, or else things will become really confusing.

Archaeology has also played a part in linking the Huns with the Xiongnu, that’s quite remarkable because in the case of nomadic peoples the archaeological record is usually quite poor. Fortunately, the European Huns have left behind a very recognizable type of religious object that is without doubt linked to them, and which has also been found in the central Eurasian Steppe, in Central Asia and in Mongolia, the original home of the Xiongnu. These objects are the Hunnish cauldrons, which have been found always in similar locations: they’ve been deliberately buried near a river or a spring, suggesting some sort of sacral usage. Their form is very characteristic, especially the mushroom-shaped adornments along their rim. Very similar cauldrons found buried in Mongolia have been dated by archaeologists to the times of Xiongnu rule, and they disappear from the archaeological scenario after the demise of the Xiongnu empire. But they’ve been found in the Altai, Dzungaria, the Kazakh Steppe, the southern Urals, the Volga valley and finally in Hungary. Some examples have also been found in Sogdiana. According to De la Vaissière, the distribution and the typologies of these cauldrons suggest two migration or expansion routes for the Huns: firstly, a “Nordic” one that ran across southern Siberia along the limit of the taiga, all the way to Yekaterinburg and the Upper Kama valley in the Urals. The cauldrons associated with this route are not found anywhere else further to the west. The southern route runs all the way from the Altai to Dzungaria, to the Kazakh Steppe, to the lower Volga valley and then to Hungary.

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Sacrificial bronze cauldron of Hunnish origin found at Törtel, Hungary.

Another point that has caused lots of controversy among scholars for the past two centuries has been the issue of the Huns’ ethnical identity. Today, this issue has faded into the background, as today we have a more nuanced and detailed understanding about how steppe empires functioned, and it’s quite clear that Eurasian nomads gave little importance to the issue of ethnical or linguistic identity, contrary to what happened in academic circles during the XIX and XX centuries, in the heyday of nationalism. Today, the question of the ethnical identity of the Huns is still an unresolved one. The amount of Hunnic words that has reached our day is quite scarce, to say the least: exactly three words, plus some personal names and tribal ethnonyms. That’s all that remains.

With this meager evidence, some scholars are reluctant to reach any conclusion and just label the Hunnish language as “unclassifiable”, but others are willing to make some speculations. It’s clear that the Huns that reached Europe had their own “Hunnic” language. Most of what we known of the customs of the European Huns comes from the account of the historian and rhetor Priscus of Panium, who was sent as part of an embassy of the Eastern Roman empire to the court of Attila in 448/449 CE. Priscus wrote Attila’s “Scythian” (i.e. Hunnic) subjects spoke:

(…) besides their own barbarian tongues, either Hunnish, or Gothic, or, as many have dealings with the Western Romans, Latin; but not one of them easily speaks Greek, except captives from the Thracian or Illyrian frontier regions.

The three words we have from the Hunnic language are preserved in the writings of Priscus and the VI century CE author Jordanes. In Priscus’ account, we learn that:

In the villages we were supplied with food (millet instead of wheat) and “medos” as the natives call it. The attendants who followed us received millet and a drink of barley, which the barbarians call “kamos”.

And according to Jordanes’ account of Attila’s funeral:

When the Huns had mourned him (Attila) with such lamentations, a “strava”, as they call it, was celebrated over his tomb with great reveling.

According to linguists, these three words (medos, kamos and strava) are of Indo-European origin; either Germanic, Iranian or Slavic. But in the case of personal names and ethnonyms, Hyun Jin Kim points out that the overwhelming majority of them are Turkic ones and concludes that most probably the “European” Hunnic elite was Turkic-speaking, following what seems to be the predominant trend nowadays among historians and linguists.

Hyun Jin Kim though warns against any attempt to seek any sort of genetic/racial continuity between the Huns and Xiongnu. He stresses that “Hun” (or “Wusun”, “Yuezhi”, “Kangju”, etc.) was a political category, not a racial or hereditary one; at its heyday the Xiongnu empire must’ve included speakers of many different languages (Turkic, Mongolic, Yeniseian, Tungusic, Iranian, Tokharian, etc.) and many of them must’ve considered themselves as “Xiongnu” without further issue.

One of the extant Chinese sources seems to indicate that some of the Xiongnu, in particular the Jie tribe of the wider Xiongnu confederation, spoke a Yeniseian language. The Jin Shu (meaning “The Book of Jin”, an official Chinese historical text covering the history of the Jin dynasty from 265 to 420 CE), compiled in 648 CE in the court of the Tang dynasty, gives us a rare transliteration of a Xiongnu Jie song composed in a language that modern linguists believe to be most likely related to Yeniseian languages. This fact has led scholars such as Edwin Pulleyblank and Alexander Vovin to argue that the Xiongnu had a Yeniseian core tribal elite, which ruled over various Tocharian, Iranian and Altaic (Turco-Mongol) groups. However, whether the Jie tribe and the language they spoke is representative of the core ruling elite of the Xiongnu Empire remains uncertain and other scholars strongly argue in favor of a Turkic, Mongolic or even Iranian ruling elite.

Hyun Jin Kim thinks that it seems rather likely that the core language of the Xiongnu of old was either Turkic or Yeniseian (or maybe even both), but that no definitive conclusions can as yet be made about which linguistic group constituted the upper elite of their empire. He stresses that the attempt itself may in fact be irrelevant since the Xiongnu were quite clearly a multi-lingual and multi-ethnic hybrid entity.

And furthermore, Hyun Jin Kim states that it’s quite possible that the European Huns were equally as heterogeneous as the old Xiongnu of Mongolia. According to him, it’s quite likely that their core language was Oghuric Turkic (a branch of Turkic whose only extant member is Chuvash) given the names of their kings and princes, which are for the most part Oghuric Turkic in origin as the following list shows:
  • Mundzuk (Attila’s father, probably from Oghuric Turkic Munčuq, meaning “pearl/jewel”).
  • Oktar/Uptar (Attila’s uncle, from Oghuric Turkic Öktär, meaning “brave/powerful”).
  • Oebarsius (another of Attila’s paternal uncles, from Oghuric Turkic Aïbârs, meaning “leopard of the moon”).
  • Karaton (already quoted above; Hunnic supreme king before Ruga, from Oghuric Turkic Qarâton, meaning “black cloak”).
  • Basik (Hunnic noble of royal blood from the early V century CE, probably from Oghuric Turkic Bârsiğ, meaning “governor”).
  • Kursik (Hunnic noble of royal blood, from either Oghuric Turkic Kürsiğ, meaning “brave” or “noble”, or Quršiq meaning “belt-bearer”).
Hyun Jin Kim also points out that all three of Attila’s known sons have probable Turkic names: Ellac, Dengizich, Ernakh/Hernak, and Attila’s principal wife, the mother of the first son Ellac, has the Turkic name Herekan, as does another wife named Eskam. The heavy concentration of Turkic peoples in the areas where the Huns dwelled before their major expansion into Europe and Central Asia is likely to have led to the consolidation of a Turkic language as the dominant language among the European Huns.

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Map of the Eurasian Steppe.

However, this does not mean that the ethnic composition of the Huns in the central Eurasian Steppe before their entry into Central Asia and Europe in the mid IV century CE was exclusively Turkic. There was also an important Iranian element within their ethnic mix, and this is borne out by the fact that the Central Asian Huns and the Iranian-speaking Alans (the first recorded opponents of the Huns during the Hunnic expansion west into Europe in the mid fourth century AD) shared a very similar material culture. Both groups also practiced the custom of cranial deformation (the origin of which is obscure). Archaeologically it is often very difficult to make a clear distinction between a Hun, an Alan and later even a Germanic Goth due to the intensity of cultural mixing and acculturation between all the major ethnic groups that comprised the population of the European Hunnish empire: Oghuric Turkic, Iranian and Germanic. Just as the Xiongnu accommodated Chinese defectors into their empire, the later Huns also provided refuge for Graeco-Roman defectors and also forcibly settled Roman prisoners of war in their territory. Priscus of Panium leaves us with a vivid image of the heterogeneity of Hunnic society. In the fragment I quoted above, he tells us that at the Hunnic court Hunnic (presumably Oghuric Turkic), Gothic and Latin were all spoken and all three languages were understood by most of the elite to some degree, so much so that Zercon the Moor, the court jester, could provoke laughter by jumbling all three languages together at a Hunnic banquet in the presence of Attila. Remarkably the Hunnic Kidarite empire in Central Asia, which was contemporary with Attila’s Hunnic empire in Europe, also used multiple languages; we know for instance that Sogdian, Bactrian, Middle Persian and Sanskrit on different occasions were all used for administrative purposes.

The fulgurant rise of the Sasanian dynasty in Iran under its two first kings Ardaxšir I and Šābuhr I happened not only because these two rulers were exceptionally good sovereigns (which they were), but also because the geopolitical situation in Eurasia had taken a turn that led to the weakening of the three great powers that until then had dominated the political scene from the Atlantic to the Pacific, and compared to which the Arsacid empire was a relatively minor participant. In 220 CE, the Eastern Han dynasty, which had been experiencing troubles for decades, finally collapsed and China split into three kingdoms and entered three centuries of inner stability that would not end under the reunification of the country by the Sui dynasty in 581 CE. The collapse of the unified Han empire brought about the loss of control over the Chinese military protectorate over the oasis of the Tarim Basin, which had a serious impact over the “Silk Road” trade. When the Chinese armies of emperor Wudi of the Western Han first occupied these oasis, he set up a complex array of Chinese military garrisons designed to control these oasis and defend them from Xiongnu attacks; the soldiers stationed in these remote outposts were mostly paid in silk, which was collected as tribute in kind by the bureaucracy of the Han in inner China and then transported to the borders in form of raw silk rolls that were handed over to the troops as salary. In turn, the troops sold these silk rolls to obtain the commodities needed for subsistence (them and their families), and this quickly created a lucrative trade in which rolls of first-grade raw Chinese silk became an abundant commodity in the Tarim basin and began to be exported to west of the Pamirs, where they were in high demand. The abrupt stop of this system after 220 CE must have hurt a lot the trading communities along the “Silk Road” and must’ve had serious repercussions further west.

Approximately at the same time, the Roman empire entered the “troubles” of the III century CE, originating in a complex array of causes, among them the constant debasement of the silver denarius with which the Roman state paid its armies, which in turn was probably caused by two centuries of deficit trade with the East, in which the Roman empire exported silver in exchange for luxury Indian and Chinese items. In turn, the increased internal instability within the Roman empire, the onset of continued civil wars and foreign invasions brought about probably a sharp stop in the Roman eastern trade.

The state that probable was hit the hardest by these two concurrent crises on both ends of Eurasia was the Kushan empire, which was located in the central Asian space and controlled all the major trade routs and mercantile emporia in Central Asia and northern India. As we’ve seen, there are signs of debasement in Kushan coinage in this century, and one can only imagine the disastrous effect that the slowing down of the Eurasian trade network must’ve had in the trading cities of Bactria and northern India. To the north, the Kangju confederacy (basically Čāč and the Sogdian oasis to the south must’ve been also badly hit, as they stood right on the main gate towards China, at the western approaches to the Pamir Plateau.

This means that the two first Sasanian kings were confronted on all fronts by enemies that were undergoing deep internal crises, and they lost no time in taking advantage of it. The Sasanians managed to inflict humiliating defeats on the Romans, but expansion into the Roman east does not seem to have been a priority for them, as they were mostly content with annexing Mesopotamia and Armenia as bulwarks protecting the approaches to Media in the north and Āsūrestān in the south, and asserting their supremacy over the Caucasus, to seal a possible invasion route for northern nomads into the Iranian Plateau and controlling the branch of the “Silk Road” that arrived there across the Caspian Sea from Khwarazm.

But in the East, the Sasanians took a completely different approach. Ardaxšir I and Šābuhr I basically demolished the tottering Kushan empire and annexed all of its territories north of the Hindu Kush (at the very least, if Šābuhr I did not manage to make inroads into India, as the Manichaean tradition states and the Rag-e Bibi relief in northern Afghanistan seems to suggest). Given that the Arsacid empire in the East at the fall of the dynasty did not extend further than Sistān, Arachosia and Merv, is we are to believe the ŠKZ, these two kings managed to subjugate Makurān, Pāradān, Turān, Hindustān, Gandhāra, the Afghan highlands, Ṭoḵārestān, Sogdiana “all the way to Čāčestān” and Xvārazm, which basically means all the Iranian sedentary peoples and communities in the eastern Iranian Plateau, Baluchistan and the Turanian Basin of Central Asia, and controlling also a part (or even the totality) of the Indus valley. This is a phenomenal expansion that pushed the borders of Ērānšahr to the same limits of the old Achaemenid empire, and which substantiated the claim of the two first Sasanian kings to be “kings of the Iranians and the non-Iranians”; at the death of Šābuhr I, the only Iranians who were not Sasanian subjects would have been northern nomadic tribes like the Wusun, the Alans of the Sarmatians.

But of course, scholars have been skeptical about the triumphalist claims of Šābuhr I in the ŠKZ. There’s no hard evidence of Sasanian rule north of the Āmu Daryā at this time. Unlike in Bactria, there are no rock reliefs, remains of buildings, or seals or public documents attesting to the presence of Sasanian officials. There are only coins, but there’s a problem with this. Before the reign of Šābuhr III (383 – 388 CE), the practice of stamping mint marks on Sasanian coins was quiet a haphazard one, and most coins issued prior to his reign don’t bear mint marks. And most importantly, there are no Sasanian mints located north of the Āmu Daryā at this time, Numismatics play a very important part in the reconstruction of events in Central Asia in Late Antiquity due to the lack of written sources, and so I will get back in more detail to the issue of Sasanian coinage in later chapters.

Even if we take the ŠKZ at face value and accept that Šābuhr I managed to impose direct or indirect Sasanian rule (through cadet branches of the House of Sāsān like the Kušān Šāhs), it seems to me rather improbable that his successors would’ve managed to keep such immense tracts of land under their control, considering that all of them had either very short or troubled reigns until Šābuhr II reached his majority of age. In his Res Gestae, Ammianus Marcellinus describes the Sasanian empire and his list of territories subjected to Šābuhr II includes all these lands, but it’s also suspiciously similar to the description of the old Achaemenid empire that was given by old Greek geographers and is full of anachronisms and mistakes.

So, all things considered, it’s quite difficult to know with any certainty what was the extension of Sasanian rule north of the Āmu Daryā when Šābuhr II was forced to leave his never-ending war against Constantius II and go to the east in a hurry to defend his Central Asian borders against these nomadic invaders who had apparently appeared all of the sudden out of nowhere. But, as Korean historian Hyun Jim Kin writes in his book The Huns, they did not appear out of the blue, and there’s archaeological proof that from their base in the Altai, the Huns/Xiongnu had been steadily expanding westwards and southwards for some decades before 350 CE.

The Hungarian scholar Miklós Érdy studied the findings of Hunnic cauldrons and concluded that the Huns had reached the Urals in their westward expansion already in 270 CE, which is much earlier than thought before. The Hunnic expansion to the west stalled between the Urals and the Volga for the following century, and the Huns did not cross the Volga in force until 370 CE, to invade the lands of the Gothic Greuthungi. Ands as Hyun Jin Kim points out, this suggests that all the states and tribes between the Altai and the Urals had succumbed to Hunnic conquest by the early IV century CE. But despite this expansion across the steppe, the Huns did not really start moving en masse to the west and south until after 350 CE. This sudden mass movement is attested by written accounts (Ammianus Marcellinus and Chinese sources) and archaeology. Let’s see first the written evidence, then the archaeological one and finally we’ll try to get a glimpse of what might have prompted this sudden migration.

Erdy-Hun-Anabasis-Burials.jpg

Distribution of archaeological findings attributable to the Xiongnu/Huns across Eurasia, according to the Hungarian scholar Miklós Érdy.

The first written source is of course Ammianus Marcellinus’ Rerum gestarum Libri XXXI. In it, Ammianus offers a very precise date for the sudden departure of Šābuhr II from the Roman border: 350 CE, the same year of Magnentius’ usurpation, dated in the classical Roman way (consular years). Ammianus also gives us the name of the peoples that caused so many problems to the Sasanian king, to the point that, as we will see, Šābuhr II would need nine full years to bring the situation on his eastern border under control, and then without a clear, smashing victory, but having concluded a peace and an alliance treaty with his enemies that later events would prove to be extremely fragile.

Now the Chinese sources. The Weishu, describing the situation in Central Asia west of China in the early V century CE, offers this interesting bit of news:

Land of the Yeda, of the race of the Great Yuezhi, it’s also said that they’re another branch of the Gaoju. Originally, they came from a region north of the Sai. They departed the Altai towards the south, they settled to the west of Khotan, their capital is located more than two hundred li south of the Oxus, at 1,100 li from Chang’an.

Chinese authors were prone to the same sort of archaisms as their Graeco-Roman colleagues, which leads sometimes to confused etymologies and garbled ethnological relationships (like the supposed Tokharian Yuezhi ancestry of the Yeda). Yeda was the name that the Chinese gave to the Hephthalites, perhaps the more famous of the Hunnish Central Asian dynasties. To this information of the Weishu, another Chinese source, the Tongdian (a Chinese institutional history and encyclopedia, covering a wide array of topics from high antiquity through the year 756 CE; the book was written between 766 and 801 CE), offers a key precision: that the departure of the Yeda from the Altai happened between eighty and ninety years before the reign of emperor Wencheng of the Later Wei (r. 452 – 466 CE), which puts us squarely in the 360 – 370 CE time frame, very near to the dates given by Ammianus.

Moreover, the Weishu, in an entry dated precisely to 457 CE, states:

Formerly, the Xiongnu killed the king (of Sogdiana) and took the country. King Huni is the third ruler of the line.

Soviet and post-Soviet archaeological digs in Central Asia have also confirmed the news of the literary sources about northern invaders moving south. The excavated sites of the sedentary culture of Džetyasar on the Syr Daryā delta shows signs of large-scale destruction and abandonment that have been dated to the late III or IV centuries CE, with the abandonment of irrigation networks. The displaced populations fled in two directions, carrying with them a characteristic style of pottery that has allowed archaeologists to trace their steps; one part settled in the Caucasus and the other sought refuge to the southeast as far away as Ferghana and Sogdiana. In the middle Syr Daryā, the sites of the Kaunči culture, dated back to the establishment of the Kangju domination, show the same signs of destruction, population loss and abandonment of villages and irrigation works; in this case the displaced populations seem to have sought refuge entirely in Sogdiana, where Kaunči pottery becomes commonplace during the mid-IV century CE. At the middle course of the Syr Daryā the city of Kanka, until then one of the most important Sogdian/Kangju cities, diminished to a third of its initial surface area. This timeframe (late III century CE and first half of the IV century CE) also coincides with important changes in the archaeological register of Khwarazm: the palaces of Toprak Kala were abandoned and according to Bīrūnī the Afrighid dynasty rose to power; Soviet and post-Soviet archaeological excavations detect the abandonment of irrigation works, the destruction and abandonment of sites and a general tendency towards the building of fortresses in central points scattered across the agricultural landscape (a process similar to what’s known in Italian medieval history as the incastellamento).

Further south in Sogdiana the excavations have provided further confirmations for these movements of people. The Kaunči type ceramics become abundant in the central Sogdian oasis, especially in Samarkand. And the mass migration of people from the Džetyasar culture is even more marked; their influence is marked in the ceramics and aspects of domestic architecture in the Bukhara, Naḵšab and Guzar oasis, where archaeologists ascribe to them the appearance of small fortified settlements occupying all the available space within the irrigation network, and increasing to the limit the population densities of these oasis.

Archaeologists have observed that during the IV century the city of Samarkand shrank in size to about a third of its previous surface within the Hellenistic-period walls, and the same can be observed in other Sogdian sites like Erkurgan. The second half of the IV century CE especially witnessed the interruption of regular monetary emissions that dated back to the era of the Graeco-Bactrian kingdom in Sogdiana and Bactria. In the region of Samarkand Soviet archaeologists dated to this age the apparition of a wave of kurgan burials. Everywhere in Sogdiana, but it’s been especially studied in the upper Zarafšān valley, archaeologists have also dated to this period of time the generalization of a new typology of rural habitat formed by small fortified manor houses built in natural defensive locations. Archaeological layers of destruction and fires have been found in many sites in eastern Bactria, while in northern Bactria urban sites saw substantial parts of their walled precincts become depopulated and turned into burial grounds.

Most scholars, like Étienne de la Vaissière and Frantz Grenet, agree that these disruptions were caused by northern invaders, which must’ve been the Chionitae of Ammianus, the Xiongnu descendants the of Chinese dynastic chronicles, and the Xwn of the Sogdian letters. Frantz Grenet and Nicholas Sims-Williams even suggest a complete interruption of the overland trade routes with China as a result of the sack of Luoyang by the Southern Xiongnu in 311 CE, a situation that would not have been remedied until 437 CE. If something even remotely similar to this really happened, the impact on the trading cities of Sogdiana and Bactria would’ve been disastrous and would have left them deeply weakened in front of the northern onslaught. According to the Japanese scholar Kazuo Enoki, in an unknown date during the second half of the IV century CE, the shock of the invasion reached Samarkand, where its king was killed by the invaders according to the Weishu.

Étienne de la Vaissière argued in the 2000s, that the Huns migrated south in a single wave in the mid-IV century CE from the Altai, in a view that has since then become accepted in academic circles, against the prevalent view until then that saw in the Chionites, Kidarites and Hephthalites successive waves of invaders from the north. What caused this sudden movement?

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View of the Altai mountains, which today stand at the geographic junction between Russia, Mongolia, China and Kyrgyzstan.

De la Vaissière mostly attributed this migration to climate events. Published findings regarding accumulations of pollen in the lakes of the Altai range point towards a sharp drop in temperatures combined with a rise in humidity that lasted from the middle of the IV century CE through the VI century CE, causing significant change in the vegetation. Likewise, from 340 CE onwards, glaciers advanced in the valleys. The accumulated snow must’ve destroyed most herds in the high plateaus; although the Mongolian horse is able to dig through the snow to feed, its capacity to do so is strictly limited by the depth of the snow cover, and contemporary ethnography has shown the enormous impact that prolonged winters and their blizzards can have on herds of horses: eight million horses, twenty percent of the stock, died for this reason in Mongolia in the winter of 2010. Chinese sources report Hun invasions from the Altai happening exactly in the middle of the IV century CE, without giving any reason for their incursions. De la Vaissière adds that quite plausibly additional factors contributed to the destabilization of Hun societies in the Altai region, but little is known of them. The north slope of the Altai was well beyond the reach of knowledge for the Chinese observers, the only exception being the Weishu text mentioned above. Actually, this is one important point that should also be stressed out, as has been done by critics of De la Vaissière and this theory: actually, the Weishu is a completely isolated testimony, and there are absolutely no other sources that can be used to verify it: similar references that can be found in later Chinese chronicles have actually been borrowed straight from the Weishu and so are worthless in this respect.

Another possibility, that is not mutually exclusive with the climate hypothesis, is pressure by other nomadic groups. It’s known from Chinese sources that the Rouran/Avar khaganate became active in the IV century CE in Mongolia, even if its power only truly began to develop at the end of that century. De la Vaissière quotes as evidence for this possibility a passage from the V century CE East Roman author Priscus of Panium:

At this time the Saraguri, Urogi and the Onoguri sent envoys to the eastern Romans. These tribes had left their native lands when the Sabiri attacked them. The latter had been driven out by the Avars who had in turn been displaced by the tribes who lived by the shore of the Ocean.

De la Vaissière proposes that the Sabiri could be a Xianbei people (again, the Chinese characters for the name Xianbei would’ve been presumably pronounced *Sarbi in Old Chinese), chased out of Mongolia by the developing power of the Rouran/Avars, and they would’ve chased in turn the tribes further west. In this case, the Hunnic groups cited by Priscus (Saraguri, Urogi, and Onoguri) paused in the Kazakh steppe before moving further westward in the middle of the V century CE, later than the main group of the European Huns who had crossed the Volga in 370 CE.

As I wrote before, it’s unclear where did the real borders of Ērānšahr lay in this area. Frantz Grenet believed that direct Sasanian rule only included the southern bank of the Āmu Daryā (as far downstream as Khwarazm, where according to the Middle Persian text Šahrestānīhā ī Ērānšahr the Sasanian king Narsē built a royal city, and perhaps the most westernmost part of Sogdiana (the lower part of the Zarafšān valley, i.e. the Bukhara oasis). He also believed that the Sasanian vassal kingdom (or viceroyalty, as some authors like to call it) of Kušān Šāhr did not extend north of the Āmu Daryā and must’ve stretched from Herat in the west across Bactriana, crossing the Hindu Kush by way of the Kabul Basin and including Gandhāra.

According to Khodadad Rezakhani, the two last Kušān Šāhs were:
  • Pērōz 2 (303 – 330 CE).
  • Bahrām (330 – 365 CE).
After Bahrām Kušān Šāh, the monetary emissions of these kings in the former Kushan territory cease to exist and become replaced by the coinage of the Sasanian Šahān Šāh Šābuhr II. According to Rezakhani’s chronology, this happened after 363 CE, and so after Šābuhr II’s victory over the Roman emperor Julian, when he was forced to return once more to the East. Numismatists first suggested and historians seem to have accepted their views that Šābuhr II was somehow forced to terminate the “viceroyalty” of his eastern cousins because Kušān Šāhr was crumbling under the Chionite/Hunnish attacks and he decided to take personally control over the whole East and recentralize the government, administration and defense of these territories. Numismatic evidence seems to suggest that Bahrām Kušān Šāh only reigned north of the Hindu Kush, because coins dated to his reign have found in Gandhāra issued by the local satraps Mēzē and Kawād in the name of Šābuhr II.

Peroz-II-Kushanshah.jpg

Coin of Pērōz 2 Kušān Šāh.

Bahram-IThe-Indo-Sasanian.jpg

Gold dinar of Bahrām Kušān Šāh.

The problem, of course, is that all these are educated guesses with little evidence to support them. In the absence of written sources, numismatics and archaeology can only take us so far. Rezakhani summarizes the probable course of events thus: the first wave of invasion targeted the area north of the Āmu Daryā and the invaders initially overwhelmed eastern Sogdiana and the Badaḵšān Valley, east of the Iron Gates, before crossing the Āmu Daryā and moving southwest towards Termeḏ and Balḵ, into Ṭoḵārestān (and thus into the Sasanian “viceroyalty” of Kušān Šāhr). Rezakhani thinks that is probably the moment when Šābuhr II made a peace treaty with at least some of the clans of these invaders, as attested in Ammianus Marcellinus’ Rerum Gestarum Libri XXI (XVII, 5, 1-2):

In the consulship of Datianus and Cerealis (i.e. 358 CE), while all provisions in Gaul were being made with very careful endeavor, and dismay due to past losses halted the raids of the savages, the king of Persia was still encamped in the confines of the frontier tribes; and having now made a treaty of alliance with the Chionitae and Gelani, the fiercest warriors of them all, he was on the point of returning to his own territories, when he received Tamsapor’s letter, stating that the Roman emperor begged and entreated for peace.

Here a new name appears, that of the Gelani, a tribe or people that has been impossible to identify. Some historians think that they could have been the ones to give their name to the region of Gilān in northeastern Iran, but Rezakhani and other historians refute this on the basis that the name Gilān is not attested until the IX century CE, five hundred years later.

As we will see in the following chapter, after failed peace talks with Constantius II, Šābuhr II marched again against Roman Mesopotamia at the head of an army formed by forces of the eastern part of his possessions, and that included his new Gelani and Chionite allies. The Chionites were commanded by their own king Grumbates, who rode besides Šābuhr II as an equal, a rare honor in Sasanian state ritual. The etymology of the name Grumbates has puzzled historians since the XIX century. Ammianus’ Latin form Grumbates is a direct loan from the Greek form Grumbatés, but before the 1990s this name was unattested anywhere else. But with the discovery and publication of the Bactrian Letters, it appeared in one of the documents in its Bactrian form, Gorambado, as the name of a Bactrian aristocrat of the V century CE. The problem is that as this letter is chronologically later than Ammianus’ text by a century, it’s not possible to ascertain if the name already existed in Bactria or if it was adopted in this country as a result of the Hunnish conquest. What’s certain is that until now the name has not been attested in any Middle Persian, Sogdian, Khwarazmian, Chinese or Sanskrit texts. As a result, scholars have proposed historically two different etymologies for this name. Initially, an Iranian etymology was proposed, but more recently a Turkic etymology for this name has gained acceptance, from Old Turkic *Qurum-pat, meaning "ruling prince". Old Turkic qurum, meaning "rule, leadership, administration" in the form of Krum is attested also to in the names of the Turkic Bulgars that appeared in the Volga and the Balkans in the VIII century CE. What seems clear is that according to Ammianus’ text Grumbates and his Chionites were not Zoroastrians (and hence the were probably not Iranians) because they cremated their dead, which was the ultimate abomination for a practicing Zoroastrian.
 
That was yet another awesome (and long) piece of text, thanks for keeping it up! :)
 
That was yet another awesome (and long) piece of text, thanks for keeping it up! :)

Hehe, I just don't know when to shut up, apparently :D. Thanks for the appreciation :).
 
I love how you're going: "here's the accepted view and here's a newer alternative explanation but there's problems X and Y with that explanation"

it's all very fair and non-cheerleading which is very rare with these sort of texts I've noticed
 
I love how you're going: "here's the accepted view and here's a newer alternative explanation but there's problems X and Y with that explanation"

it's all very fair and non-cheerleading which is very rare with these sort of texts I've noticed

Thank you, that was precisely one of my main goals when I started writing these threads :).
 
8.1 THE RESTART OF OPEN HOSTILITIES BETWEEN ŠĀBUHR II AND THE ROMANS.
8.1 THE RESTART OF OPEN HOSTILITIES BETWEEN ŠĀBUHR II AND THE ROMANS.


We left Ammianus’ account of the Roman peace proposals at the point when *Tahm-Šābuhr’s letter bearing the Roman proposals reached Šābuhr II, who was still in the East and who had just signed a truce and signed an alliance with the Gelani and Chionites (358 CE). Ammianus’ tale continues thus (Rerum Gestarum Libri XXI; XVII, 5.2):

Therefore, imagining that such a step would not be attempted unless the fabric of the empire were weakened, he swelled with still greater pride, embraced the name of peace, and proposed hard conditions; and dispatching one Narseus with gifts as his envoy, he sent a letter to Constantius, in no wise deviating from his native haughtiness, the tenor of which, as we have learned, was as follows:

And then Ammianus proceeds to quote the supposed letter of Šābuhr II to Constantius II. Forged letters were a common device of ancient history writers, as a vehicle for bringing immediacy into their tale and an impression that the author was privy to the most secret state affairs (Ammianus was never more than a middle-grade army officer). Of course, almost all of these letters must’ve been inventions, but to some degree they could convey a sense of what must’ve been the general tenor of the actual correspondence between the two rulers (Rerum Gestarum Libri XXI; XVII, 5.3-8):

I, Sapor, King of Kings, partner with the Stars, brother of the Sun and Moon, to my brother Constantius Caesar offer the amplest greeting.
I rejoice and at last take pleasure that you have returned to the best course and acknowledged the inviolable sanction of justice, having learned from actual experience what havoc has been caused at various times by obstinate covetousness of what belongs to others. Since therefore the consideration of truth ought to be free and untrammeled, and it befits those in high station to speak as they feel, I shall state my proposal in brief terms, recalling that what I am about to say I have often repeated. That my forefathers’ empire reached as far as the river Strymon and the boundaries of Macedonia even your own ancient records bear witness; these lands it is fitting that I should demand, since (and may what I say not seem arrogant) I surpass the kings of old in magnificence and array of conspicuous virtues. But all times right reason is dear to me, and trained in it from my earliest youth, I have never allowed myself to do anything for which I had cause to repent. And therefore, it is my duty to recover Armenia and Mesopotamia, which double-dealing wrested from my grandfather. That principle shall never be brought to acceptance among us which you exultantly maintain, that without any distinction between virtue and deceit all successful events of war should be approved. Finally, if you wish to follow my sound advice, disregard this small tract, always a source of woe and bloodshed, so that you may rule the rest in security, wisely recalling that even expert physicians sometimes cauterize, lance and even cut away some parts of the body, in order to save the rest sound for use; and even that wild beasts do this: for when they observe for what possession they are being relentlessly haunted, they give that up of their own accord, so as afterwards to live free from fear. This assuredly I declare, that if this embassy of mine returns unsuccessful, after the time of the winter rest is past I shall gird myself with all my strength and with fortune and the justice of my terms upholding my hope of a successful issue. I shall hasten to come on, so far as reason permits.

This (most probably fabricated by Ammianus) letter was every bit as condescending and laced with menace as the letter that Constantine I addressed to the young Šābuhr II as recorded in Eutropius of Caesarea’s work. Šābuhr II was fixated on recovering Mesopotamia and Armenia and he was not going to stop in his attempts to recover them And as could be expected, Constantius II’s reaction to it was as little enthusiastic as Šābuhr II’s reaction to Constantine I’s letter had been (Rerum Gestarum Libri XXI; XVII, 5.9-14):

After this letter had long been pondered, answer was made with upright heart, as they say, and circumspectly, as follows:
“I, Constantius, victor by land and sea, perpetual Augustus, to my brother King Sapor, offer amplest greeting. I rejoice in your health, and if you will, I shall be your friend hereafter; but this covetousness of yours, always unbending and more widely encroaching, I vehemently reprobate. You demand Mesopotamia as your own and likewise Armenia, and you recommend lopping off some members of a sound body, so that its health may afterwards be put upon a firm footing; advice that is rather to be refuted than to be confirmed by any agreement. Therefore, listen to the truth, not obscured by any juggling, but transparent and not to be intimidated by any empty threats. My praetorian prefect, thinking to undertake an enterprise conducing to the public weal, entered into conversations with a general of yours, through the agency of some individuals of little worth and without consulting me, on the subject of peace. This we neither reject nor refuse, if only it takes place with dignity and honor, without at all prejudicing our self-respect or our majesty. For at this time, when the sequence of events (may envious ears be placated!) has beamed in manifold forms upon us, when with the overthrow of the usurpers the whole Roman world is subject to us, it is absurd and silly to surrender what we long preserved unmolested when we were still confined within the bounds of the Orient. Furthermore, pray make an end of those intimidations which (as usual) are directed against us, since there can be no doubt that it was not through slackness, but through self-restraint that we have sometimes accepted battle rather than offered it, and that when we are set upon, we defend our territories with the most valiant spirit of a good conscience: for we know both by experience and by reading that while in some battles, though rarely, the Roman cause has stumbled, yet in the main issue of our wars it has never succumbed to defeat.”

In this letter, Constantius II refuses Šābuhr II’s terms and deftly blames his official Musonianus (the praefectus praetorio per Orientem) for the failed peace openings. But the lines that follow this “letter” in Ammianus’ chronicle let see clearly that Constantius II did not feel so secure and self-assured about the strength of his position against a renewed Sasanian offensive. While Šābuhr II had managed to patch things up (albeit temporarily) in Central Asia and was free to attack again the Roman eastern provinces and Armenia, Constantius II and the caesar Julian were still hopelessly embroiled against the Franks, Alamanni and Sarmatians in the Danube and Gaul respectively. Furthermore, the field army of Gaul had been left so weakened by its defeats at Mursa and Mons Seleucus that it was impossible for Constantius II to take all his veteran troops with him to the East at once; first he needed to restore the limes and achieve a minimum of security in Europe. So, let’s continue with Ammianus’ account (Rerum Gestarum Libri XXI; XVII, 5.15):

This embassy having been sent back without obtaining anything (for no fuller answer could be made to the king’s unbridled greed) after a very few days it was followed by the comes Prosperus, Spectatus, tribune and secretary, and likewise, at the suggestion of Musonianus (i.e. the praetorian prefect for the East), the philosopher Eustathius, as a master of persuasion; they carried with them letters of the emperor and gifts, and meanwhile planned by some craft or other to stay Sapor’s preparations, so that his northern provinces might not be fortified beyond the possibility of attack.

So, Constantius II was forced to send a second embassy to Šābuhr II in order to at least try and gain some time to finish the ongoing war in Europe before the inevitable Sasanian invasion came. But there’s reason to think that the years between 350 and 359 CE had been less peaceful in the Roman East than the sources could lead us to believe. Ammianus’ account of Gallus’ short and eventful rule as caesar in the East informs us that in March 354 CE a food riot broke out in Antioch as Gallus was preparing to march to fight off some “Persian incursions” about which nothing more is said. These incursions (which would have been led by Šābuhr II’s generals during his protracted absence in Central Asia) seem to have penetrated deep enough into Roman territory and have been powerful enough that the invaders managed to sack the city of Celse (location unknown), for which the former Dux Phoeniciae, Serenianus, was brought to trial (and acquitted) in the spring of 354 CE. As we sill see below, Ilkka Syvänne attributes these incursions not to the Sasanians directly, but to their Arab allies.

Shapur-II-bulla-01.jpg

Clay bulla with the effigy of Šābuhr II. The legend in Pahlavi script reads: "The Mazdayasnian, the Lord Šābuhr, king of kings of the Iranians and non-Iranians whose seed is from the Gods, son of the Mazdayasnian, the Lord Ohrmazd, king of kings of the Iranians and non-Iranians whose seed is from the Gods, grandson of Lord Narsē, king of kings".

Ilkka Syvänne goes even further and suggests that the capture of Singara by the Sasanians mentioned by Ammianus happened during Gallus’ rule, at some point in time between 351 and 353 CE. Syvänne argues that if its capture had taken place when Constantius II was still personally in direct charge of the operations in the East Ammianus (who hated him with a passion) would surely have made more of this failure. And secondly he argues that since the sources mention that the Sasanian besiegers were using siege engines captured from Singara against Amida in 359 CE, but not in 350 CE against Nisibis, it could perhaps be that the fall of Singara took place in the 350s during Gallus’ tenure. Syvänne argues astutely that Ammianus’ failure to report it could be due to the fact that the magister equitum in the East at that time was his patron the comes Ursicinus, and so Ammianus would have chosen tactfully to skip over the fact. But still, this is just a hypothesis without any confirmation in the sources, and unsupported by any other authors to the extent of my knowledge.

According to Irfan Shahid and to Syvänne (who quotes him), the situation in the Roman East deteriorated further during this “peaceful” interlude due to the rebellion of the Arab foederati. Shahid blames Gallus’ policies for this disastrous (for the Romans) turn of events, in which the Lakhmids of Hira changed sides and allied themselves with Šābuhr II, in the same way that they also caused a serious uprising of the Jews in Palestine at around the same time. But Shahid also points out that another likely cause (which is not mutually exclusive with the previous one) could have been Constantius II’ aggressive pro-Arian policies during the 350s (similar policies by emperor Valens would cause another revolt of the Arab foederati later in the same century). Shahid points out that when the extant part of Ammianus’ Res Gestae pick up in 353 CE, the Arabs are already in revolt against Rome, and they are not mentioned by him as Roman allies at any time until the second Peace of Nisibis between Šābuhr II and emperor Jovian in 353 CE. This means that at least since the early 350s, Rome had lost the support of the Arab tribes of the Syrian and northern Arabian desert (although they retained other Arab allies in other parts of Arabia, as we will see later, but these would be of no use in any direct confrontations between the Roman and Sasanian armies in Mesopotamia).


Missorium-Kerch.jpg

Image of the so-called “Kerch missorium”, depicting Constantius II. Missoria were engraved decorative dishes made from gold and silver that Late Roman emperors awarded to civilian officials or army officers as a reward for their services, in a similar way that their Sasanian counterparts also produced expensive pieces of silver as gifts in their royal silverworks.

Tabarī wrote that Šābuhr II nominated Imru' al-Qays’ son ‘Amr ibn Imru’ as ruler of Hira, but on the basis of the length of ‘Amr’s rule (according to Tabarī, Šābuhr II appointed ‘Amr as king of Hira and stated that he remained in office for the remainder of Šābuhr II’s reign [r. 309 - 379 CE], the whole of Ardaxšir II’s [r. 379 - 383 CE] and part of Šābuhr III’s [r. 383 – 388 CE] reign, for a total of 30 years.) it seems that this did not happen immediately after his father’s death in 328 CE. Furthermore, there is also the complication that Tabarī doesn’t mention anywhere the desertion of Imru to the Roman side (attested in epigraphy, as we’ve seen in previous chapters), which makes his account inaccurate and could imply that all references to Hira’s loyalty towards the Sasanians are equally suspect. However, there are other indications that ‘Amr may indeed have changed his allegiance from the Roman side to that of Ērānšahr sometime during the 350s, the year 352 CE being the likeliest date according to Syvänne. He supports this guess on the fact that Ammianus mentions an Arabic raid for the year 352 – 353 CE and very soon after the Ḥimyarites of Yemen began acting as Roman allies against the Lakhmids of Hira. And so, Syvänne thinks it likely that it was in about 352 CE that Šābuhr II appointed Amr as ruler of Hira and he also suggests that the transferal of the Assanitae/Ghassanids to northeast Arabia, near the Hira and the Euphrates regions, took place at the same time as an insurance policy against a possible revolt of ‘Amr.

The Arab raiders appear to have been quite successful. Syvänne suggests that the pillagers of the city of Celse in the territory of the Dux Phoeniciae had been the former Arab foederati of Rome. Following this speculation, Syvänne also points out that this change of alliances could have been a reason for the possible (according to him; see above) Sasanian succession against Singara around the same time, even if there had also been a failed Sasanian attempt to take Batnae in Oshroene with a surprise attack; in this case, Sasanian deserters had provided a timely warning to the Roman defenders.

Shapur-II-Drahm-Kabul-320-01.jpg

Silver drahm of Šābuhr II, issued in the “Mint IX”, a mint located in the eastern part of his empire, probably in Ṭoḵārestān, and tentatively named by numismatists as the “Kabul mint”.

As it couldn’t be any other way, the situation in Armenia was also highly volatile during this decade. And as is customary, Armenian chronicles offer a highly confused and novelesque account of the events, which requires quite a lot of creative reading and inferring on the part of the reader. Once more, I’m going to follow Ilkka Syvänne’s assessment of the Armenian sources in this respect, and I will make clear my discrepancies or doubts with his assessments. According to Moses of Chorene (History of the Armenians, 3.11):

In the seventeenth year of his reign Augustus Constantius, son of Constantine, made Tiran, Khosrov’s son, king and sent him to Armenia with Vrt’anēs the Great (i.e. the archbishop who headed the Armenian church). After his arrival he peacefully gained control of our land, making a treaty with the Persians and not war. Paying tribute to the Greeks and a special tribute to the Persians, he lived in tranquility like his father and evinced no deed of bravery or valor (…).

The seventeenth year of Constantius II’s reign was 354 CE. But Syvänne points out that “king Khosrov” should be emended to “king Tiran” and “king Tiran” to “king Arshak”. In short, it was Arshak who succeeded Tiran, and not Tiran who succeeded Khosrov, and Moses’ dates are also incorrect according to Syvänne; the Armenian chronicler made a mess with events that he put later in his chronicle; Syvänne’s reconstruction is as follows: the succession of Arshak to the Armenian throne would’ve happened in 350 – 351 CE, after his father Tiran had tried to negotiate a truce, peace or even an alliance with the Sasanians. These would’ve taken him prisoner and blinded him (as described in the History of the Armenians, 3.17). According to Syvänne’s reconstruction, Šābuhr II then appointed Tiran’s son Arshak as his successor and took hostages from all of the leading families. So, Armenia had ceased (once more) to be a Roman protectorate to become a Sasanian one. However, Šābuhr II would’ve been unable to fully exploit the situation thanks to the fact that the “northern nations” had invaded and were threatening his borders (History of the Armenians, 3.19). Here I must stop and state that I’m not a scholar like Syvänne, but that at least in Moses’ text there’s something clear: the chronological succession of the Roman augusti from Constantius II to Valentinian I, whose reigns coincided with that of Šābuhr II, is correct. Syvänne here is moving events dated by Moses to the reigns of Valentinian I (or rather his brother Valens, who was joint augustus with him and ruled in the East) back to the reign of Constantius II. The problem is that the events in Moses’ chronicle for the 350s find no confirmation in Graeco-Roman sources or in the Armenian chronicle of Faustus of Byzantium (in other words, for the 350s Moses of Chorene is pretty much our only source for events in Armenia), which leaves everything in the air. So, I must say that I’m not entirely convinced by Syvänne’s reconstruction of events.

Following Syvänne’s “amended” reading of Moses of Chorene’s chronicle, Arshak followed his pro-Sasanian policies until there was a major nobiliary uprising in Armenia that forced him to seek once again an alliance with the Romans. According to Syvänne. this would have caused a Sasanian invasion in retaliation, that would correspond to the one recorded by Ammianus in 355 CE, and for the figure if eight years of peace between Armenia and the Sasanian empire recorded in the chronicle of Faustus of Byzantium after the flight of the Armenian king from the siege of Nisibis (according to Syvänne’s version of events, as according to Faustus he fled “from Persia”). The Georgian Chronicle also records troubles in the Caucasian kingdom of Iberia, with king “Archil” being enthroned by the Romans after a period of Sasanian occupation; Syvänne hypothesized that this “Archil” could’ve been the same person as the Armenian king Arshak, who would’ve received Roman help to seize the Iberian throne after he switched alliances.

Constantius-II-355-Solidus-Aquileia-01.jpg

Gold solidus of Constantius II, issued between 350 and 355 CE. On the obverse: FL(avius) IVL(ius) CONSTANTIVS PERP(etuus) AVG(ustus). On the reverse, GLORIA REI PVBLICAE (“Glory to the republics”, in celebration of the twin capitals of Rome and Constantinople). Mint of Aquileia.

Syvänne also recalls that the V century CE Arian churchman Philostorgius has preserved a tradition according to which Constantius II sent ambassadors led by Theophilus “the Indian” (which in the context of those times meant that he could’ve been a southern Arab, an Axumite or even a “real” Indian) to Ḥimyar (a kingdom that corresponded to modern Yemen and Oman) to convert their king to Christianity and to allow the building of three churches for the Roman trader communities in the area. This happened at some point in time during the 350s, the usual dating for this being the year 356 CE. Syvänne sees this mission as part of Constantius II’s eastern strategy during this decade, of which the fruitless peace negotiations with Šābuhr II were only one part. According to Philostorgius, Theophilus led the mission because he was a native of the region from the island of Diva/Divus. According to Philostorgius, Theophilus was successful and managed to convert the Jewish Ḥimyarite king to Christianity. He was also allowed to build the three churches, one in Zafar (Ḥimyarite capital), one in Aden (commercial hub) and one at the mouth of the Persian Gulf (another commercial hub), all of which evidently belonged to the Ḥimyarite kingdom.

If Philostorgius’ account is true, this implies several things. Firstly, the Ḥimyarites had either managed to free themselves from the Aksumite rule, or at least that they had managed to gain considerable autonomy. The evidence suggests that the latter is true, especially because the titles suggest that the Aksumite king had higher ranking. Secondly, the likeliest purpose for the Roman embassy was the forming of an alliance with the Ḥimyarites against the Lakhmids and the Persians, as we will see later. Thirdly, the alliance was sealed by the at least nominal conversion of the king to the official Roman religion. Fourthly, that there was significant presence of Roman merchants in the Ḥimyar ports, large enough to require the building of churches for their use, and which point towards a success of Constantine I and Constantius II’s efforts to restore the Roman trade in the Indian Ocean. According to Philostorgius, during his return trip to the Roman empire, Theophilus stopped in Axum and held talks with the Axumite king ‘Ezana, which according to Syvänne were probably related to a military alliance to enroll the help of the Ḥimyarites, who were Axumite vassals, against the Sasanians and Lakhmids in eastern Arabia, and to protect and foster Roman trade in the Indian Ocean, which the Axumites were in a position to choke if they so wished (as they controlled both sides of the Strait of Aden, and all the southern Arabian coast).

Stela-Ezana-Axum.jpg

Stela of king ‘Ezana, in Axum (today in northern Ethiopia).

But this was not the entire extent of the Roman and Ḥimyarite operations in the area. The Ḥimyarites were busy enlarging their possessions into Baḥrayn and ‘Abd al-Qays, that is, to the Arabian coast of the Persian Gulf, which had been under Sasanian control since Šābuhr II’s campaign against the Arabs. There is archaeological evidence to support this. According to an inscription found in Yemen and dated to June 360 CE, Ḥimyarite forces were at the time fighting in Yamāmah, in central Arabia close to al-Riyāḍ, and in ‘Abd al-Qays. Towards the end of the IV century CE, the Ḥimyarites organized these areas under their client Kingdom of the Kindah, which in turn would fight against the Lakhmids of Hira.

Amphora-Zafar.jpg

Late Roman amphora (originating from Aqaba) found in archaeological excavations in Zafar, the ancient capital of the kingdom of Ḥimyar.

I retake at this point Ammianus’ narrative. According to him, Constantius II has decided to send a second embassy to the Sasanian king. Considering the state of affairs between both empires, it’s quite improbable that Constantius II did so in good faith; he was probably just trying to win time before the inevitable Sasanian invasion. During the “peaceful interlude” of the 350s, the Romans had suffered a major blow with the defection of the Lakhmids; although they had managed to salvage the situation in Armenia (if Syvänne’s interpretation of Moses of Chorene’s chronicle is true), the situation in Mesopotamia looked better now for the Sasanians than in 350 CE; they had a new and useful ally in the region which could launch deep raids into Roman territory through the desert and provide the Sasanians with intelligence about the Roman defenses, and Šābuhr II had managed to not only reach a truce of some sort in Central Asia, but he’d been also able to recruit some of his former enemies as allies, while Constantius II and the caesar Julian were still busy fighting in the Rhine and Danube. While the Romans had managed to recruit the Axumites and Ḥimyarites as allies (and this alliance was important on a strategical scale) these allies were of no use in the Mesopotamian and Armenian was theater. Constantius II, who was a deft and experienced ruler and diplomat, must’ve been well aware of this, and so I think that this second embassy must’ve been just a ruse to gain as much time as possible. And probably his Sasanian adversaries also realized this, because the embassy was a failure. According to Ammianus (Rerum Gestarum Libri XXI; XVII, 14.1-2):

On these very same days Prosper, Spectatus, and Eustathius, who had been sent as envoys to the Persians (as we have shown above), approached the king on his return to Ctesiphon, bearing letters and gifts from the emperor, and demanded peace with no change in the present status. Mindful of the emperor’s instructions, they sacrificed no whit of the advantage and majesty of Rome, insisting that a treaty of friendship ought to be established with the condition that no move should be made to disturb the position of Armenia or Mesopotamia. Having therefore tarried there for a long time, since they saw that the king was most obstinately hardened against accepting peace, unless the dominion over those regions should be made over to him, they returned without fulfilling their mission.

As you can see, Šābuhr II had already returned from Central Asia to Ctesiphon, and the second embassy was a complete failure. But Constantius II then sent a third embassy to the Sasanian king (Rerum Gestarum Libri XXI; XVII, 14.3):

Afterwards the comes Lucillianus was dispatched, together with Procopius, at that time state secretary, to accomplish the self-same thing with like insistence on the conditions (…)

This embassy also failed, and the next bit of news about the Sasanians that we can read in Ammianus’ book deals with their preparations for a great-scale invasion. Constantius II was still based in Sirmium, fighting against the Sarmatians and Quadi, and Julian was in Gaul fighting against the Alamanni and Franks (Rerum Gestarum Libri XXI; XVIII, 4.1-7):

While at Sirmium these matters were being investigated with all diligence, the fortune of the Orient kept sounding the dread trumpets of danger; for the king of Persia, armed with the help of the savage tribes which he had subdued, and burning with superhuman desire of extending his domain, was preparing arms, forces, and supplies, embroiling his plans with infernal powers and consulting all superstitions about the future; and having assembled enough of these, he planned with the first mildness of spring to overrun everything. And when news of this came, at first by rumors and then by trustworthy messengers, and great dread of impending disasters held all in suspense, the forge of the courtiers, hammering day and night at the instigation of the eunuchs on the same anvil (as the saying is), held up Ursicinus to the suspicious and timid emperor as a grim-visaged gorgon, often reiterating these and similar charges: that he, having on the death of Silvanus been sent as if in default of better men, to defend the east, was panting for higher honors. Furthermore, by this foul and excessive flattery very many strove to purchase the favor of Eusebius, then head-chamberlain, upon whom (if the truth must be told) Constantius greatly depended, and who was vigorously attacking the safety of the aforesaid commander of the cavalry for a double reason: because he alone of all was not, like the rest, adding to Eusebius’ wealth, and would not give up to him his house at Antioch, which the head-chamberlain most importunately demanded. Eusebius then, like a viper swelling with abundant poison and arousing its multitudinous brood to mischief when they were still barely able to crawl, sent out his chamberlains, already well grown, with directions that, amid the duties of their more private attendance, with the soft utterances of voices always childish and persuasive they should with bitter hatred batter the reputation of that brave man in the too receptive ears of the prince. And they promptly did what they were ordered. Through disgust with these and their kind, I take pleasure in praising Domitian of old, for although, unlike his father and his brother, he drenched the memory of his name with indelible detestation, yet he won distinction by a most highly approved law, by which he had under heavy penalties forbidden anyone within the bounds of the Roman jurisdiction to geld a boy; for if this had not happened, who could endure the swarms of those whose small number is with difficulty tolerated? However, Eusebius proceeded warily, lest (as he pretended) that same Ursicinus, if again summoned to court, should through fear cause general disturbance, but actually that he might, whenever chance should give the opportunity, be hauled off to execution.
While they held these plots in abeyance and were distracted by anxious thoughts, and I was staying for a time at Samosata, the famous seat of the former kingdom of Commagene, on a sudden repeated and trustworthy rumors were heard of new commotions; and of these the following chapter of my history shall tell.

This passage is dated to 358 CE, and in it it’s clearly stated that Šābuhr II was planning to launch his invasion the following spring. Apart from offering this information in the first lines, Ammianus uses up the rest of the passage to rant with a colorful language against the “intriguers” in Constantius II’s court (chief amongst them the chamberlain Eusebius) for “poisoning” the emperor’s mind against the magister equitum Ursicinus, who was Ammianus’ patron. By the way, the “Domitian” he’s referring to is the I century CE emperor Domitian, who issued a law forbidding the castration of slaves (as Eusebius was himself a eunuch). Ammianus is an invaluable source for us, but neither him nor any other ancient author had any notion of “impartiality” as understood in our times, so he freely mixes his (quite accurate in general) account of historical events with his personal agenda, including petty vendettas and grudges (the Rerum Gestarum Libri XXI were published around 391 CE in Rome, so his attacks against Constantius II’s former chamberlain were by then a purely personal issue). In the passage after this one, Ammianus offers an important bit of news (Rerum Gestarum Libri XXI; XVIII, 5.1-3):

There was a certain Antoninus, at first a rich merchant, then an accountant in the service of the governor of Mesopotamia, and finally one of his bodyguards, a man of experience and sagacity, who was widely known throughout all that region. This man, being involved in great losses through the greed of certain powerful men, found on contending against them that he was more and more oppressed by unjust means, since those who examined the case were inclined to curry favor with men of higher position. Accordingly, in order not to kick against the pricks, he turned to mildness and flattery and acknowledged the debt, which by collusion had been transferred to the account of the privy purse (i.e. to the imperial treasury). And then, planning to venture upon a vast enterprise, he covertly pried into all parts of the entire empire, and being versed in the language of both tongues (i.e. Latin and Greek), busied himself with calculations, making record of what troops were serving anywhere or of what strength, or at what time expeditions would be made, inquiring also by tireless questioning whether supplies of arms, provisions, and other things that would be useful in war were at hand in abundance. And when he had learned the internal affairs of the entire Orient, since the greater part of the troops and the money for their pay were distributed through Illyricum, where the emperor was distracted with serious affairs, and as the stipulated time would soon be at hand for paying the money which he was compelled by force and threats to admit by written bond that he owed, foreseeing that he must be crushed by all manner of dangers on every side, since the comes sacrarum largitionum (i.e. the imperial “secretary of finances” in charge of the government’s expenses) through favor to his creditor was pressing him more urgently, he made a great effort to flee to the Persians with his wife, his children, and all his dear ones. And to the end that he might elude the sentinels, he bought at no great price a farm in Iaspis, a place washed by the waters of the Tigris. And since because of this device no one ventured to ask one who was now a landholder with many attendants his reason for coming to the utmost frontier of the Roman empire, through friends who were loyal and skilled in swimming he held many secret conferences with Tamsapor, then acting as governor of all the lands across the river, whom he already knew; and when active men had been sent to his aid from the Persian camp, he embarked in fishing boats and ferried over all his beloved household in the dead of night, like Zopyrus, that famous betrayer of Babylon, but with the opposite intention.

According to the developments of the 359 CE campaign as reported by Ammianus, the desertion of Antoninus would have serious consequences for the Romans. The word that Ammianus uses to describe Antoninus’ rank when he deserted to the Sasanians is protector, and that means probably that Antoninus was a member of the same elite corps to which Ammianus himself belonged, the protectores domestici. This was one of the units of the imperial guard, it was used as a nursery for future officers of the army and its members were often charged with secret and delicate tasks, like Ammianus himself was to be during the oncoming campaign, like espionage and the gathering of information. Once more we see the name of Šābuhr II’s trusted official in charge of the western border *Tahm-Šābuhr being quoted in Ammianus’ account, in what by all means was an important success by the Sasanian intelligence system just on the eve of war. Having reported this, Ammianus resumes his rant about the intriguers in Constantius II’s court and the injustices inflicted upon his beloved patron the magister equitum Ursicinus (Rerum Gestarum Libri XXI; XVIII, 5.4-5):

After affairs in Mesopotamia had been brought to this pass, the Palace gang (sic. 1940 J.C. Rolfe’s English translation from the Latin original), chanting the old refrain with a view to our destruction, at last found an opportunity for injuring the most valiant of men (i.e. Ursicinus, of course), aided and abetted by the corps of eunuchs, who are always cruel and sour, and since they lack other offspring, embrace riches alone as their most dearly beloved daughters. So it was decided that Sabinianus, a cultivated man, it is true, and well to-do, but unfit for war, inefficient, and because of his obscurity still far removed from obtaining magisterial rank, should be sent to govern the eastern regions; but that Ursicinus should return to court to command the infantry and succeed Barbatio: to the end that by his presence there that eager inciter to revolution (as they persisted in calling him) might be open to the attacks of his bitter and formidable enemies.

In short, according to Ammianus, his patron the magister equitum Ursicinus was recalled by Constantius II to Europe in order to take the post of the magister peditum Barbatio (who had operated in Gaul with Julian and later in Raetia against the Franks and Alamanni before being beheaded together with his wife for high treason due to a compromising letter, according to Ammianus). Ammianus clearly implies that this was a demotion (and to a certain point it was, as cavalry officers had seniority over the same ranks for the infantry), and that Ursicinus’ substitute as magister equitum in the East, Sabinianus, was incompetent for the task. As you can see, Ammianus didn’t even try to appear impartial in these lines. Ammianus continues his account by recalling how Antoninus was received in Šābuhr II’s court with open arms and how Sabinianus took over Ursicinus’ office, and the latter departed for Europe. And then Ammianus explains how the absence of (the greatly admired and feared by the Sasanians) Ursicinus emboldened the enemy to invade, as they despised his successor Sabinianus (Rerum Gestarum Libri XXI; XVIII, 6.3-):

We believe (and in fact there is no doubt of it) that Rumor flies swiftly through the paths of air, since it was through her circulation of the news of these events that the Persians held council as to their course of action. And after long debate to and fro it was decided, on the advice of Antoninus, that since Ursicinus was far away and the new commander was lightly regarded, they should give up the dangerous sieges of cities, pass the barrier of the Euphrates, and push on with the design of outstripping by speed the news of their coming and seizing upon the provinces, which in all previous wars (except in the time of Gallienus) had been untouched and had grown rich through long-continued peace; and Antoninus promised that with God’s favor he would be a most helpful leader in this enterprise. When this plan had been commended and approved by unanimous consent, all turned their attention to such things as must be amassed with speed; and so, the preparation of supplies, soldiers, weapons, and other equipment which the coming campaign required, went on all winter long.

This is an important fragment, for according to Ammianus it was the deserter Antoninus who convinced Šābuhr II to change the strategy he had followed in previous campaigns: instead of attacking the fortified cities of Mesopotamia, the Sasanian king should bypass them and attack directly the “soft targets” of the Roman rearguard, in Syria and Anatolia. We will leave Ammianus’ account here, but in the next chapter, which will cover the 359 CE campaign and the siege of Amida, we will see that some modern scholars think that there is good reason to believe that Ammianus was sorely mistaken and that what Šābuhr II intended with his renewed war effort was not simply pillaging the rich Roman eastern possessions, but to conquer Mesopotamia once and for all, but that this time he would change his approach: instead of concentrating all his efforts against what was obviously the very well defended city of Nisibis, he would try to conquer first the outer ring of Roman fortresses that shielded Nisibis to the east and north, and only then, once his lines of communication with Ērānšahr were secure, would Šābuhr II try again his luck against Nisibis.
 
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mmh, it's almost like it was a good idea to split up the empire in order to fully concentrate upon one border :D
 
Just chiming in to say I still read the thread and really appreciate your work. Your posts are getting more detailed and lengthy, so let me reiterate that you definitely should write this up as something you can publish. I'd certainly buy it.

I'm a few pages behind, though :)
 
mmh, it's almost like it was a good idea to split up the empire in order to fully concentrate upon one border :D

I don't know if you've followed all of this thread and the previous one that I wrote ("The Rise of the Sasanians"), but in my opinion the idea of a collegiate body of emperors (mind, not the division of the empire, the splitting was never official, not even during the V century CE; by then Roman laws were still being issued collectively in the name of both the western and eastern emperors, and the Theodosian Code issued by the eastern emperor Theodosius II had equal legal force in the West as in the East) was not due to purely military factors, but to political ones.

During the III century CE it became increasingly clear that it was suicidal for an emperor to trust any large concentration of troops to anybody that wasn't the augustus himself of somebody in his immediate family (ideally his son, or perhaps his brother). Almost in all cases when anybody else was entrusted with the command of whole "fronts" (for example Decius, Ingenuus, Regalianus et.al. with the Danubian border, or the Macriani and Probus in the East) against foreign enemies, it would inevitably end up in an armed usurpation. The creation of an imperial collegium by Diocletian helped to cut the vicious circle of self-destruction in which the Roman military elite had immersed the empire, although it didn't stop it completely (Diocletian and his colleagues had to deal with several usurpations too, one of which -the one by Carausius and Alectus in Britain- it took them years to put off). Constantine I (himself an usurper) managed to reign for twelve years as sole augustus without usurpations, but at the price of being absolutely ruthless with any hint of disloyalty (his eldest son Crispus was probably a victim of this attitude) and Constantius II was even more ruthless than his father had been: he began his reign by exterminating all of his male relatives except for his two brothers Constans and Constantine II (who were backed by armies and had considerable parts of the empire behind them) and his cousins Gallus and Julian, as his first wife begged him for their lives. And even then, he had Gallus executed after rising him to the dignity of caesar, and when he raised his only surviving male relative Julian to the same post, Julian ended up usurping the purple.

I've not narrated it in this thread, as it's a thread about the Sasanian empire and not the Roman one, and in my previous thread I probably became too invested in events that took place in the Roman empire, but as the Sasanians were taking the final steps for war and Constantius II was sending embassies to try to gain time, according to Ammianus he was busy executing suspects of high treason and purging the imperial corps of agentes in rebus (the Roman "secret service"). He had the magister peditum Barbatio executed in Raetia after he obtained a victory against the Alamanni because (according to Ammianus) his wife sent him a compromising (and quite strange, not to say hysterical) letter in which she accused him of being about to forget her after he became augustus. Of course, the letter was intercepted by Constantius II's agentes in rebus, read and transmitted to the emperor, who inmediately had the infortunate Barbatio and his wife beheaded for high treason. It's even perfectly possible that the letter that damned Barbatio was a forgery intended to obtain exactly that result, as the hapless Barbatio had powerful enemies, starting with the caesar Julian, who had clashed violently with him over military issues in Gaul the year before.

Was Constantius II particularly bloodthirsty or paranoid, for a Roman emperor? No, not especially. In fact, many other emperors (including some of the ones that are remembered as "good emperors") were as suspicious and distrustful as him, and in my opinion, they had good reasons for it. Hadrian is described in the surviving evidence as being also suspicious of everybody; he started his reign with four executions without due process and established almost a "police state" regime during his reign. The remains of his imperial villa at Tivoli near Rome for example show the elaborate security measures he adopted when he designed the floor plan, making sure that the access to his chambers could only be done through labyrinth-like arrays of rooms with guards posted in each of them, to ward off assassination attempts.

In this atmosphere, waging an offensive war in the East against the Arsacids and later the Sasanians was particularly problematic. In my previous threads I included very rough (and highly speculative) estimates about the numbers of troops for the eastern expeditions of Septimius Severus, Caracalla and Gordian III. I could add to them similar estimates for the campaigns of Trajan and Lucius Verus, and they all share two common points:
  • None of these emperors, to which we should also add Julian, was able to conduct these campaigns only with the troops permanently stationed in the East. All of them had to move to the East troops from Europe, which immediately weakened the Rhenish and Danubian borders, enticing Roman neighbors there to take advantage of the situation. After the formation of the great Germanic confederacies in the first half of the III century CE, it became almost suicidal for any emperor to engage in such practices, unless first they campaigned against the northern peoples in a preventive way to ensure that they "stood put" while the Romans concentrated against the Iranian empire in the East.
  • The above point was a necessity because massive numbers of troops were necessary for an offensive war in the East (see the chapters about the numerical strength of the Arsacid and Sasanian militaries in my previous thread). The best estimate we have is for Julian's expedition (according to Ammianus): 65,000 men under Julian's direct command, while a second army of 30,000 operated out of Armenia, jointly with the army of Armenia, which was a Roman vassal against Media in northwestern Iran. That puts us in a rough total of 95,000 Roman soldiers, to which we should add the Armenians, who had a large military (probably around 20,000 - 30,000 men). The numbers for previous Roman expeditions are surprisingly similar: 80,000 for Trajan's campaign (according to his biographer Julian Bennett), and up to 100,000 men (perhaps even 120,000 men) in the largest invasions, like the ones by Lucius Verus and Septimius Severus' second invasion. Still in the early VI century CE, during the Anastasian War, the Roman counteroffensive to recover Amida, Martyropolis and Theodosiopolis (which had been conquered by the Sasanians after an initial surprise attack) amounted to a staggering total of 100,000 men distributed into several field armies operating in Upper Mesopotamia and Armenia.
Putting such huge armies under the command of anybody but the ruling augustus was a very, very delicate affair. All of these invasions were commanded by a ruling emperor, with the debatable exception of Lucius Verus' campaign, for according to the sources he mostly resided in Antioch and other cities behind the lines as a figurehead, while the army in the field was commanded by the imperial legate Avidius Cassius, who after the retreat of the European troops and Verus from Asia was awarded by Marcus Aurelius and Luvius Verus the very special and wholly extraordinary post of generalissimo of the eastern armies, in command of the whole eastern border. The result was predictable: after Verus had fell victim of the plague pandemic, Avidius Cassius allegedly received the "fake news" (as you can see, they have a really long history) that Marcus Aurelius had died of the plague too, and so he was "spontaneously" acclaimed as augustus by the eastern legions.

During the Principate, the alternative was to keep the army command divided among the provincial governors who could command (after Septimius Severus' reforms of the provinces) two legions (plus auxiliaries) at the most, for a total of 20,000 men tops. This number was not a casual one, as the "central reserve" in Rome under Septimius Severus amounted to perhaps 30,000 men distributed between the reinforced Praetorian Guard, the Legio II Parthica and several other "imperial guard" units. But this command structure, while politically safe for the ruling augustus, was completely inefficient when confronted by a large-scale invasion, and among the enemies of Rome it was the Sasanians in the East who could mobilize the largest armies by far.

Diocletian's measures helped, but even in this case, his victorious 298 CE counteroffensive that ended in Galerius' great victory at Satala could be organized because Diocletian and Galerius' incessant campaigning in the Danube the previous years allowed them to move considerable amounts of experienced troops to the East. If for example the Goths had launched then a large-scale attack against the lower Danube (as had happened during the III century CE), Diocletian and Galerius would've been in a very compromised situation, but fortunately for them the Goths were quiet during that timeframe, and the other trans-Danubian peoples had been thoroughly chastised by Diocletian and Galerius' incessant campaigning prior to that.

Constantine I's reforms and his creation of mobile reserve armies (well, rather than "creation", it was an evolution out of the comitatus of the late III century CE emperors and the Tetrarchs) and his thorough reform of the army command added another layer of complexity, but still the core problem remained: as you've seen in this latest post, even in the eve of war Constantius II kept moving commanders around in the East (something that's not very advisable in the face of an imminent large-scale invasion) and he kept in place the old and cherished Roman practice of duplicated commanders, that in the 359 CE campaign in the East would result in a complete lack of coordination and understanding between the magister equitum Ursicinus and the magister peditum Sabinianus. And reinforcements would not arrive to the East and a large-scale counteroffensive would not be launched until Constantius II in person moved from the Danube to the East, together with his praesentalis army.
 
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Just chiming in to say I still read the thread and really appreciate your work. Your posts are getting more detailed and lengthy, so let me reiterate that you definitely should write this up as something you can publish. I'd certainly buy it.

I'm a few pages behind, though :)

Thank you :). They'll be getting shorter again I think, as I got quite invested in my geographical descriptions of the Sasanian East, but with the return to the narrower field of political history, they should go back to a more manageable (for me) size.
 
I' ve finally been able to catch up during a particularly calm night shift, hurray! Great job, OP.

I especially enjoyed the chapters on the historical regions of central Asia, those were amazeballs. Learned a bunch of new stuff about the region, thanks. Sistan surprised me the most. Granary of Iran "ruined" by dams in Afghanistan... I had no idea!
 
8.2 THE SIEGE OF AMIDA. THE APPROACH OF THE SASANIAN ARMY.
8.2 THE SIEGE OF AMIDA. THE APPROACH OF THE SASANIAN ARMY.

Finally, in 359 CE Šābuhr II invaded again the Roman Empire in force. This campaign is narrated with extraordinarily lavish detail by Ammianus Marcellinus, who took part in it personally and who according to his account narrowly escaped with his life on a couple of occasions. But despite this apparent trustworthiness of the source, I won’t follow Ammianus uncritically. For starters, Ammianus was not an impartial observer, and more often than not he acts as a cheerleader for his patron Ursicinus and allowed his bias (or even hatred) towards certain people to show, particularly emperor Constantius II and the Ursicinus’ rival commander Sabinianus. And let’s not forget that despite everything, Ammianus was never more than a mere guardsman, and he was not privy to the really important strategical military decisions. As we will see, more than once Ammianus shows a certain degree of overall ignorance and even naivety about the events of the campaign.

Shapur-II-Bust-02.jpg

Silver bust of a Sasanian king, thought to be Šābuhr II.

According to Ammianus, when the news of the ongoing Sasanian invasion reached Constantius II, he immediately ordered the magister equitum Ursicinus, whom he had recalled to Europe and who had already reached Thrace, to turn back and return to Mesopotamia as fast as possible; according to Ammianus he was accompanying Ursicinus during this aborted trip (Rerum Gestarum Libri XXI, XVIII, 6.5-7):

We meanwhile lingered for a time on this side the Taurus, and then in accordance with our orders were hastening to the regions of Italy and had come to the vicinity of the river Hebrus (i.e. the modern Maritza River), which flows down from the mountains of the Odrysae; there we received the emperor’s dispatch, which without offering any excuse ordered us to return to Mesopotamia without any attendants and take charge of a perilous campaign, after all power had been transferred to another. This was devised by the mischievous molders of the empire with the idea that, if the Persians were baffled and returned to their own country, the glorious deed would be attributed to the ability of the new leader; but if Fortune proved unfavorable, Ursicinus would be accused as a traitor to his country. Accordingly, after careful consideration, and long hesitation, we returned, to find Sabinianus a man full of haughtiness, but of insignificant stature and small and narrow mind, barely able to endure the slight noise of a banquet without shameful apprehension, to say nothing of the din of battle.

As you can see, Ursicinus and Sabinianus were expected to share the overall command of all the Roman forces in the eastern theater, and if we are to believe Ammianus’ account, the relations between both commanders were less than friendly. Of course, Ammianus doesn’t waste a single opportunity to insult and belittle Sabinianus, ignoring that he had been previously dux Mesopotamiae (and so he was an experienced military officer in the area) and that Constantius II until then had never appointed incompetent commanders to important posts (although he’d appointed some disloyal ones). Most importantly, Ammianus also omits a key bit of information: he says nothing about the command arrangements between Sabinianus and Ursicinus. As magister equitum, Ursicinus should’ve been the senior commander, but actually according to Ammianus’ report of the campaign he seems to have acted as the junior partner. Some authors like Syvänne state that when Constantius II recalled Ursicinus to Europe to take the post of the recently executed Barbatio, this must’ve been a de facto demotion, as Barbatio had been the magister peditum for the army of Gaul, and so with this appointment Ursicinus was being demoted from magister equitum to magister peditum. These scholars also think that Ursicinus’ removal from Mesopotamia must’ve also implied that Sabinianus was risen by Constantius II to the rank of magister equitum, but I’ve been unable to find any passage in Ammianus’ work where he wrote explicitly about this, so I’m unsure about where they base this assumption. Although this theory has the advantage that it helps to explain Ammianus’ extreme hostility towards Sabinianus and towards Constantius II; Ursicinus was his patron and mentor in the army, and any setback he suffered was automatically also a setback for Ammianus’ future career prospects.

Based on the events of Ammianus’ account, John Harrel proposed that Sabinianus was the “senior” commander, and that he led a reduced Field Army of the East, perhaps 20,000 strong, probably with strict orders by Constantius II of not risking an open battle if the numbers and the terrain were not favorable to him. His main mission would have been to secure the passes of the Euphrates and avoid any Sasanian invasion of the rich provinces of Syria and Cilicia, while at the same time posing a potential menace against the Sasanian rearguard if Šābuhr II besieged Nisibis again, as the Romans thought he would, based on the previous campaigns.

Roman-Meopotamia-337.png

Map of the Roman defensive system in northern Mesopotamia, according to John Harrel (The Nisibis War: The Defense of the Roman East AD 337-363).

And according to Harrel, Ursicinus as the “junior” commander would have been put in command of a smaller, more mobile army tasked with protecting the outer ring of fortresses that protected Roman Mesopotamia and harass the Sasanians if they decided to besiege Nisibis. For this task, Ursicinus was put in command of three Gallic legions that Constantius II had ordered the caesar Julian to transfer to the east in 358 CE:
  • Magnentiani
  • Decimani
  • Legio XXX Ulpia Victrix
These were legions which had joined Magnentius’ usurpation and which were considered still somewhat “disloyal”, so transferring them to the East was mostly a political measure. To these forces, Ursicinus also added two units of Equites Illyricani, an elite unit of Comites Sagitarii (horse archers) and the two elite “light legions”) Superventores and Praeventores commanded by the comes Aelianus. All in all, a force of around 4,000 men. Harrel also thinks that Ursicinus would’ve commanded the limitanei forces posted in Mesopotamia and the regiones Transtigritanae, with authority over the Dux Mesopotamiae, an assumption that seems credible based on the fact that according to Ammianus’ account Ursicinus issued direct orders to this official. This implies that Ursicinus was directly responsible for the security of all the Roman fortresses in the area, and unenviable task, as these would probably be the primary objective of Šābuhr II.

Ursicinus and Sabinianus led operations independently one from the other, perhaps due to different temperaments, different instructions from the emperor or different understandings of the strategic priorities. For Sabinianus, defense in depth was primordial, and he would not risk the field army under any circumstances (probably under direct orders of Constantius II), while Ursicinus was willing to tale risks and fight closer to the border. Sabinianus was willing to leave the defense of the fortresses to their garrisons, while Ursicinus wanted to take a more active role and support them by harassing the Sasanians as much as possible; which is understandable if indeed he was directly responsible for the defense of the fortresses.

The account of Ammianus now becomes extremely lively, as he narrates some actions in which he personally took place, and which perhaps he used to embellish his accomplishments for his public. I will quote it here, but I will cut out the parts that are not relevant to our overall story (Rerum Gestarum Libri XXI, XVIII, 6.8-15):

Nevertheless, since scouts, and deserters agreeing with them, most persistently declared that the enemy were pushing all their preparations with hot haste, while the manikin (i.e. Sabinianus) yawned, we hastily marched to Nisibis, to prepare what was useful, lest the Persians, masking their design of a siege, might surprise the city when off its guard. And while within the walls the things that required haste were being pushed vigorously, smoke and gleaming fires constantly shone from the Tigris on past Castra Maurorum and Sisara and all the neighboring country as far as the city, in greater number than usual and in a continuous line, clearly showing that the enemy’s bands of plunderers had burst forth and crossed the river. Therefore, for fear that the roads might be blocked, we hastened on at full speed (…) For a tribune called Abdigildus was fleeing with his camp-servant, pursued by a troop of the enemy’s cavalry. And while the master made his escape, they caught the slave and asked him (just as I passed by at full gallop) who had been appointed governor. And when they heard that Ursicinus had entered the city a short time before and was now on his way to Mount Izala, they killed their informant and a great number, got together into one body, followed me with tireless speed. When through the fleetness of my mount I had outstripped them and come to Amudis, a weak fortress, I found our men lying about at their ease, while their horses had been turned out to graze. Extending my arm far forward and gathering up my cloak and waving it on high, I showed by the usual sign that the enemy were near and joining with them I was hurried along at their pace, although my horse was now growing tired. We were alarmed, moreover, by the fact that it was full moon at night and by the level stretch of plain, which (in case any pressing emergency surprised us) could offer no hiding places, since neither trees nor shrubs were to be seen, but nothing except short grass. Therefore we devised the plan of placing a lighted lantern on a single pack-animal, binding it fast, so that it should not fall off, and then turning loose the animal that carried the light and letting him go towards the left without a driver, while we made our way to the mountain heights lying on the right, in order that the Persians, supposing that a tallow torch was carried before the general as he went slowly on his way, should take that course rather than any other; and had it not been for this stratagem, we should have been surrounded and captured and come into the power of the enemy.

Ursicinus and Ammianus crossed the Euphrates and hurried to Nisibis. This strongly fortified city was the key to the defensive system of Roman Mesopotamia, and thanks to its elevated position at the feet of the Tur Abdin mountains (Mons Izala to the Romans) it offered commanding views of the northern Mesopotamian plain all the way to the Jebel Sinjar to the south. They found the garrison of Nisibis was already reading the fortress for a siege, and that all due preparations were being undertaken.

What Ammianus and Ursicinus could see when they looked to the Tigris (and thus to the border with the Sasanians) was a multitude of fires, a sign that the enemy vanguard, formed possibly mostly by light cavalry, had crossed the border and was laying waste to the countryside and trying to capture prisoners, gather intelligence and obstruct the movement of Roman troops. These vanguards had already penetrated deeply into Roman territory and had managed to get intelligence about Ursicinus’ intended move from Nisibis to the north (by capturing and torturing the slave of a Roman tribune near Nisibis), because as Ammianus (and Ursicinus) were leaving Nisibis towards the nearby Tur Abdin mountains, they were nearly captured by Sasanian horsemen, but they managed to escape narrowly thanks to a ruse. The adventures of Ammianus and his master did not end here, for next they captured a Roman deserter who had become a Sasanian spy (Rerum Gestarum Libri XXI, XVIII, 6.16):

Saved from this danger, we came to a wooded tract planted with vineyards and fruit-bearing orchards, called Meiacarire, so named from its cold springs. There all the inhabitants had decamped, but we found one soldier hiding in a remote spot. He, on being brought before the general, because of fear gave contradictory answers and so fell under suspicion. But influenced by threats made against him, he told the whole truth, saying that he was born at Paris in Gaul and served in a cavalry troop; but in fear of punishment for a fault that he had once committed he had deserted to the Persians. Then, being found to be of upright character, and to have married and reared children, he was sent as a spy to our territories and often brought back trustworthy news. But now he had been sent out by the grandees Tamsapor and Nohodares, who had led the bands of pillagers, and was returning to them, to report what he had learned. After this, having added what he knew about what the enemy were doing, he was put to death.

Here we find a known name: Tamsapor (*Tahm-Šābuhr), the Sasanian commander of the border who accepted the Roman proposal for peace talks, who had led the constant low-scale raiding into Roman Mesopotamia during the “peace” years and who had arranged the defection of Antoninus. As we will see, he continued to have a very active part in the war against the Romans commanding important Sasanian forces, a sign of the favor he carried with the Šahān Šāh. Most probably, he was an expert in what today we would call “intelligence gathering”, raiding and cavalry warfare in general, for he seems to have been the commander of the Sasanian vanguard. As for the other “grandee”, Nohodares, less is known about him. Kaveh Farrokh and Katarzyna Maksymiuk proposed that (as is quite common in Latin and Greek writers) Ammianus confused one of his titles with his name, and that Nohodares would’ve been a Greek corruption of the Parthian *Naxvadār, meaning “holder of the primacy”; this was the title that received the title holder in a Parthian noble clan/house (from where the Armenian word naxarar, meaning “grandee” was derived). This Nohodares was the commander of the Sasanian coup de main against the city of Batnae during Gallus’ brief tenure as caesar in the East, and so he was also possibly a commander well suited to command an invading vanguard formed by cavalry tasked with gathering intelligence, pillaging and breaking down Roman communications as much as possible.

After these two encounters, Ursicinus and his escort hastened to Amida, the main Roman fortress at the foot of the Tur Abdin mountains on the Tigris, and which commanded the main roads between the northern Mesopotamian plain, the Armenian Plateau and the accesses to Roman Cappadocia from the east. According to Ammianus, once they’d reached Amida they received an encrypted message sent by the notarius Procopius, who had been a member of Constantius II’s last and failed embassy to the Sasanian king, in which he informed Ursicinus that Šābuhr II had left Ctesiphon with a huge invasion army and had crossed the Anzaba River (the Greater Zab). He also informed them that, spurred on by the traitor Antoninus, Šābuhr II:

(…) the king of the Persians had crossed the rivers Anzaba and Tigris, and, urged on by Antoninus, aspired to the rule of the entire Orient.

As we will see, Ammianus gives an extreme importance to the role of Antoninus and gives him credit for almost directing the whole invasion, with Šābuhr II following his commands to the letter. Given what we’ve seen of Šābuhr II’s character, and the fact that by then he was a mature man who had been constantly at war un the west and east for more than thirty years, I find quite hard to believe that he would happily agree to follow slavishly the advice of a Roman defector (who was not even an experienced soldier himself, Antoninus had been a member of the protectores, but had been in charge of administrative affairs) in strategic matters. He probably listened to Antoninus’ advice, but in my opinion the Šahān Šāh took all the important decisions himself.

Upon receiving this message, Ursicinus decided to send Ammianus to Corduene, one of the regiones Transtigritanae, to gather information about the approach of the main Sasanian army (Rerum Gestarum Libri XXI, XVIII, 6.20-22):

There was at that time in Corduene, which was subject to the Persian power, a satrap called Jovinianus on Roman soil, a youth who had secret sympathy with us for the reason that, having been detained in Syria as a hostage and allured by the charm of liberal studies, he felt a burning desire to return to our country. To him I was sent with a centurion of tried loyalty, for the purpose of getting better informed of what was going on; and I reached him over pathless mountains and through steep defiles. After he had seen and recognized me, and received me cordially, I confided to him alone the reason for my presence. Thereupon with one silent attendant who knew the country he sent me to some lofty cliffs a long distance from there, from which, unless one’s eyesight was impaired, even the smallest object was visible at a distance of fifty miles. There we stayed for two full days, and at dawn of the third day we saw below us the whole circuit of the lands filled with innumerable troops with the king leading the way, glittering in splendid attire. Close by him on the left went Grumbates, king of the Chionitae, a man of moderate strength, it is true, and with shriveled limbs, but of a certain greatness of mind and distinguished by the glory of many victories. On the right was the king of the Albani, of equal rank, high in honor. After them came various leaders, prominent in reputation and rank, followed by a multitude of every degree, chosen from the flower of the neighboring nations and taught to endure hardship by long continued training.

This fragment of Ammianus’ work is filled with important information. He writes that Corduene, one of the regiones Transtigritanae ceded to Rome by the Treaty of Nisibis of 299 CE was “subjected to Persian power”, and that it was ruled by a certain Jovinianus, who despite his Roman name, receives the Iranian title of “satrap”, implying that he was a governor of the region in the name of the Sasanian king. This means that at some point between 299 and 359 CE, the Roman governor of Corduene had reached an agreement with the Sasanians by which he became the hereditary satrap of the region, and a subject of the Šahān Šāh.

Despite this, this “young” Jovinianus had pro-Roman sympathies (or perhaps he was unsure of the outcome of the conflict and was trying to navigate in troubled waters) and facilitated Ammianus’ task by guiding him to a perfect spot to observe the marching Sasanian army. Šābuhr II marched in front of his troops, and was flanked by two allied kings: Grumbates, king of the Chionitae on his left and the king of the Albani (a kingdom in the eastern Caucasus) to his right. With typical exaggeration, Ammianus describes Šābuhr II’s army as “innumerable”, but what seems clear is that the invasion force was huge, much larger than anything the Romans could hope to assemble in the East as long as Constantius II and Julian were still busy in the Rhine and Danube. Syvänne and Harrel estimate the total invasion force (both the vanguard that had already crossed into Roman Mesopotamia and the main army led by the Šahān Šāh himself) at around 100,000 men, a truly gigantic army for the time. But we should keep in mind that not all this army was Iranian. As we will see further on, Šābuhr II’s army was divided into five main contingents:
  • The Chionitae, led by their king Grumbates, until very recently they had been Šābuhr II’s enemies and had waged war against him for ten years in Central Asia.
  • The Gelani, another Central Asian people about whom nothing is known; Ammianus does not describe them as being led by a king.
  • The Albani, a people of the eastern Caucasus (roughly corresponding to the modern state of Azerbaijan), led by their king.
  • The Segestanis (i.e. the Sakas) from eastern Iran; interestingly Ammianus describes them as forming their own separate contingent, separated from the “Persians” proper. And even more interestingly, Ammianus writes that the corps of elephants was included in the Segestani contingent. I will get into more detail about this force later in the chapter.
  • The “Persians” proper (meaning the Iranians, not only the soldiers from Pārs), under the direct command of Šābuhr II himself. During the bloody siege of Amida, this contingent was held in reserve by Šābuhr II, who used the other four contingents as cannon fodder during the assaults against the walls; so that the majority of the losses incurred by the besiegers were suffered by these “foreign” forces, leaving the Iranian core of the army as intact as possible.
Ammianus continues his summary of his spying activities thus (Rerum Gestarum Libri XXI, XVIII, 7.1-2):

After the kings had passed by Nineveh, a great city of Adiabene, and after sacrificing victims in the middle of the bridge over the Anzaba (i.e. the Great Zab) and finding the omens favorable, had crossed full of joy, I judged that all the rest of the throng could hardly enter in three days; so I quickly returned to the satrap and rested, entertained with hospitable attentions. Then I returned, again passing through deserted and solitary places, more quickly than could be expected, led as I was by the great consolation of necessity, and cheered the spirits of those who were troubled because they were informed that the kings, without any detour, had crossed on a single bridge of boats.

I find here something strange in Ammianus’ account. He writes that he went to Corduene to spy on the advancing enemy army, which was marching along the Tigris’ eastern bank northwards, but then he says that he observed the three kings crossing the Great Zab near Nineveh, in Adiabene. This is geographically correct, as ancient Nineveh lies near modern Mosul, which is located near the junction between the Great Zab and the Tigris. But the problem is that this tract of land is located quite to the south of Corduene, at least according to the maps that I have consulted, so something doesn’t add up, at least in my opinion. Nineveh was located exactly at the same latitude as the Roman fortress of Singara, and it was probably the point where Šābuhr II had begun all his previous invasions of Roman Mesopotamia.

Tigris-River-Near-Mosul.jpg

View of the Tigris River near modern Mosul (also near ancient Nineveh), where the main Sasanian army would have crossed the river into Roman territory.

Ammianus returned immediately to bring the news to Ursicinus, who reacted by issuing a stream of commands to his subordinates and the military (dux Mesopotamiae) and civilian governors of the province (Rerum Gestarum Libri XXI, XVIII, 7.3-6):

Therefore at once swift horsemen were sent to Cassianus, commander in Mesopotamia, and to Euphronius, then governor of the province, to compel the peasants with their households and all their flocks to move to safer quarters, directing also that the city of Carrhae should quickly be abandoned, since the town was surrounded only by weak fortifications; and in addition that all the plains be set on fire, to prevent the enemy from getting fodder. These orders were executed without delay, and when the fires had been kindled, the mighty violence of that raging element consumed all the grain, which was filled out on the now yellowing stalk, and every kind of growing plant, so utterly that from the very banks of the Tigris all the way to the Euphrates not a green thing was to be seen (…).
While the plains were burning (as was said), tribunes were sent with the guard and fortified the nearer bank of the Euphrates with towers, sharp stakes, and every kind of defense, planting hurling-engines in suitable places, where the river was not full of eddies.

As you can see, Ursicinus reacted swiftly and took drastic measures: he ordered the military governor of the province Cassianus and the civilian one Euphronius to implement a ruthless scorched earth policy (to deny not only food to the Sasanian troops, but especially fodder for their horses), to compel by force every inhabitant of the province to take refuge in fortified places (leaving their houses, fields and crops behind to be looted and burnt by the invaders) and finally he sent tribunes with “the guard” to guard the Euphrates’ crossings. Scholars understand this sentence by Ammianus as a reference that Ursicinus detached his best troops, detachments of the elite units of the protectores domestici, to guard and fortify the Euphrates’ crossings. The more drastic measure was perhaps the complete abandonment of the city of Carrhae, as its walls were deemed too weak to withstand a Sasanian attack. If these measures were undertaken with the swiftness and ruthlessness that Ammianus implies, it’s a testament to the effectiveness and efficacy of the reformed late Roman administrative system set up by Diocletian and Constantine I. Ammianus’ text also leaves some things unsaid that can be guessed from the text. First, that the Romans intended to follow a purely defensive policy, and had no intention to oppose the crossing of the Tigris by Šābuhr II’s main army, and that they were disposed to take extreme measures to secure the defense in depth of the province: scorched earth, abandonment of non-defensible sites (including a major city) and forced evacuation of the civilian population, and that they were so worried about the danger posed by the Sasanian army that Ursicinus even sent his best troops to guard the Euphrates’ crossings, thus removing them from the first-line and effectively securing that they would see no action in the oncoming campaign and would just sit down in the rearguard doing nothing. Obviously, Ammianus did not waste the opportunity to attack Sabinianus, comparing his idleness to Ursicinus’ display of energy (Rerum Gestarum Libri XXI, XVIII, 7.7):

While these preparations were being hastened, Sabinianus, that splendid choice of a leader in a deadly war, when every moment should have been seized to avert the common dangers, amid the tombs of Edessa, as if he had nothing to fear when he had made his peace with the dead, and acting with the wantonness of a life free from care, in complete inaction was being entertained by his soldiers with a pyrrhic dance, in which music accompanied the gestures of the performers; conduct ominous both in itself and in its occasion, since we learn that these and similar things that are ill-omened in word and deed ought to be avoided by every good man as time goes on as foreboding coming troubles.

The Pyrrhic dance was an ancient form of Greek war dance, of Spartan or Cretan origins, and although by the Roman era it had become a religious and public spectacle, it was still a form of military training. So, reading between Ammianus’ bitter lines, it’s probable that Sabinianus was drilling his field army at Edessa, as any responsible commander would do while he waited for the Sasanian intentions to become clearer. Also, given that Sabinianus was Ursicinus’ superior, I find it quite hard to believe that the latter would’ve been able to utter such drastic commands as the ones described by Ammianus without Sabinianus’ knowledge and approval. Furthermore, the choice of Edessa as a base for the Field Army of the East was a sound one, as it was a well-fortified city located midway between the Euphrates and Nisibis. If the Sasanian army chose to besiege Nisibis again, the Roman army would be well located to pose a menace for the Sasanian besiegers, if the Sasanians advanced directly towards Edessa, the Roman army could move swiftly behind the Euphrates destroying the bridges behind it, and if the Sasanians tried to head directly towards the Euphrates, the Roman army was well located to cross the river ahead of them and block the two main crossings in the area, Zeugma in the south (leading to Syria and Antioch) and Samosata to the north (leading to Melitene and Caesarea in Cappadocia). Considering Constantius II’s very cautious actions during previous invasions, when he had far more mobile troops available in the East, it’s quite possible that Sabinianus was under express orders from the emperor not to risk his army, because as long as Constantius II and Julian did not mop up operations in Europe, there would be no reinforcements available for Sabinianus; and a defeat against the overwhelmingly superior Sasanian army could have disastrous consequences. But, judging from Ammianus’ text, Ursicinus was a more aggressive commander who did not agree with such a cautious approach; it’s even possible that this was the reason why Constantius II had demoted him and appointed Sabinianus as his superior. Let’s retake Ammianus’ account (Rerum Gestarum Libri XXI, XVIII, 7.8-11):

Meanwhile the kings passed by Nisibis as an unimportant halting place, and since fires were spreading because of the variety of dry fuel, to avoid a scarcity of fodder were marching through the grassy valleys at the foot of the mountains. And now they had come to a hamlet called Bebase, from which as far as the town of Constantina, which is a hundred miles distant, everything is parched by constant drought except for a little water to be found in wells. There they hesitated for a long time what to do, and finally were planning to cross, being confident of the hardiness of their men, when they learned from a faithful scout that the Euphrates was swollen by the melted snows and overflowing in wide pools, and hence could not be forded anywhere. Therefore, being unexpectedly disappointed in the hope that they had conceived, they turned to embrace whatever the chance of fortune should offer; and on holding a council, with reference to the sudden urgent difficulties of their present situation, Antoninus, on being bidden to say what he thought, began by advising that they should turn their march to the right, in order to make a long detour through regions abounding in all sorts of supplies, and still untouched by the Romans in the belief that the enemy would march straight ahead, and that they should go under his guidance to the two garrison camps of Barzalo and Claudias: for there the river was shallow and narrow near its source, and as yet increased by no tributaries, and hence was fordable and easy to cross. When this proposition had been heard and its author commended and bidden to lead them by the way that he knew, the whole army changed its intended line of march and followed its guide.

This is a key passage, for in it Ammianus attempts to guess the Sasanian king’s intentions for this invasion. According to John Harrel, based on the intelligence supplied by Ammianus, Ursicinus would have concluded that Šābuhr II planned to attack Nisibis as in previous invasions. The fact that he shifted his command post from Nisibis to Amida supports this conclusion. During the three previous sieges of the city, Constantius II had left the tactical defense of the city to a trusted subordinate, and this had allowed his praesentalis army to harass the Sasanian lines of communication and supply, forcing the Sasanian king to disperse his forces to protect his siege lines from Roman raids. Harrel concludes that in this case, Ursicinus probably planned to follow Constantius II’s example, and planned to use Amida as his base of operations against Šābuhr II’s lines of communications. At a steady rate of advance of fifteen miles a day, the main Sasanian army would’ve required ten days to reach the Khabur River from the Tigris crossings (on top of the three days needed to cross it, as calculated by Ammianus). This would’ve left around two weeks for Ursicinus and Sabinianus to take the defensive measures described above. Given that the fields and the crops still not collected were dry enough to be consumed by fire, Harrel guesses that it was late May or early June when Šābuhr II invaded Roman Mesopotamia.

Map-campaign-359.png

Map of the 359 CE campaign, according to John Harrel (The Nisibis War: The Defense of the Roman East AD 337-363).

Following Harrel’s analysis of the campaign, Šābuhr II would’ve advanced along the Roman road from Singara to the base of the mountains in the vicinity of the town of Bebase, a twelve-day march from the Tigris (I’m trusting Harrel here; I’ve been unable to locate this place in the maps of the Romans Empire I’ve consulted). Here, the army paused while its scouts reconnoitered the routes to the Euphrates. According to Harrel, Bebase was near a major road junction on the Khabur River, located 260 km east of the bridge crossing the Euphrates at Zeugma and about 50 km southwest of Nisibis. Harrel states how from that location Šābuhr II had three available options:
  • His first option was to turn east and attack Nisibis, which was his standard campaign plan during the 340s. Ursicinus’ actions in burning the nearby fields rendered this option difficult. In any event, this option would not have resulted in a decisive defeat of the Roman eastern field army. It had not resulted in luring it into taking the field in the past and, even if the siege was successful, the Roman fortresses of Singara, Amida, Bezabde, and Castra Maurorum still commanded the lines of communication back to Ērānšahr.
  • The Sasanian king’s second option was to take the bridge over the Euphrates at Zeugma and invade Syria. Despite the flooding, Ammianus indicates that the bridge was still up; however, the Roman field army of the East blocked this route. Ursicinus had not yet ordered this bridge demolished. To capture the bridge, the Sasanians would have had to contend with the small Roman force at Zeugma on the west bank and the relatively small field army of the East at Edessa, but as I said before, it could have quickly withdrawn to Zeugma had Šābuhr II marched west. Capturing the bridge by surprise was unlikely since the Romans were on the alert due to the Sasanian raiders rampaging over the countryside. Harrel concludes that fighting to cross a major river was not the type of field battle that Šābuhr II was seeking, to which I would add that invading Syria contributed nothing towards his main goal: to retake the regiones Transtigritanae, Mesopotamia and Armenia from the Romans.
  • And finally, according to Harrel, the Šahān Šāh’s third option was to march north along the Roman road to Amida into the province of Cappadocia. Ammianus records that Šābuhr II chose this course of action when the scouts reported the Euphrates was in flood and impassable and that Antoninus, the traitor, with his insider knowledge, apparently advised him that this option would allow the Sasanians to march through regions that had not been burned which would provide sufficient supplies for an extended period. Harrel guesses that Ursicinus must not have deduced Šābuhr II’s change of course or his scouts failed to report the Sasanian army’s reaction to the flooded river. Harrel points out that Ammianus does not report where Ursicinus’ maneuver force was located before it “mysteriously” appeared at Amida, and he thinks that it is too much of a coincidence that five legions just happened to be in the vicinity of Amida, with a battle-hardened comes (Aelianus), when the Sasanian army unexpectedly turned north. Harrel finds this especially odd given that Ursicinus initially believed that Nisibis was Šābuhr II’s target, and he proposes that these five legions and three cavalry units were most likely massed at Amida to serve as a field army to harass the Sasanian siege of Nisibis and not as a reinforcement to Amida’s garrison.
According to Ammianus, Ursicinus deployed the two Equites Illyriciani units as a screen along the Nisibis road to provide early warning and to block Sasanian raiding parties from using the Nisibis-Amida road, but as we will see these two cavalry units failed disastrously in their mission (Rerum Gestarum Libri XXI, XIX, 1.1-14):

When this was known through trustworthy scouts, we planned to hasten to Samosata, in order to cross the river from there and break down the bridges at Zeugma and Capersana, and so (if fortune should aid us at all) repel the enemy’s attacks. But there befell a terrible disgrace, which deserves to be buried in utter silence. For about seven hundred horsemen, belonging to two squadrons who had recently been sent to the aid of Mesopotamia from Illyricum, a spiritless and cowardly lot, were keeping guard in those parts. And dreading a night attack, they withdrew to a distance from the public roads at evening, when all the paths ought to be better guarded. This was observed by the Persians, and about twenty thousand of them, under the command of Tamsapor and Nohodares, passed by the horsemen unobserved, while these were overcome with wine and sleep, and hid themselves with arms behind some high mounds near Amida.
And presently, when we were on the point of going to Samosata (as has been said) and were on our way while it was still twilight, from a high point our eyes caught the gleam of shining arms, and an excited cry was raised that the enemy were upon us; then the usual signal for summoning to battle was given and we halted in close order, thinking it prudent neither to take flight when our pursuers were already in sight, nor yet (through fear of certain death) to engage with a foe far superior in cavalry and in numbers. Finally, after it became absolutely necessary to resort to arms, while we were hesitating as to what ought to be done, some of our men ran forward rashly and were killed. And as both sides pressed forward, Antoninus, who was ostentatiously leading the troops, was recognized by Ursicinus and rated with chiding language; and after being called traitor and criminal, Antoninus took off the tiara which he wore on his head as a token of high honor, sprang from his horse, and bending his body so that he almost touched the ground with his face, he saluted Ursicinus, calling him patron and lord, clasping his hands together behind his back, which among the Assyrians is a gesture of supplication. Then, “Pardon me,” said he, “most illustrious Count, since it is from necessity and not voluntarily that I have descended to this conduct, which I know to be infamous. It was unjust duns, as you know, that drove me mad, whose avarice not even your lofty station, which tried to protect my wretchedness, could check.” As he said these words he withdrew from sight, not turning about, but respectfully walking backwards until he disappeared, and presenting his breast.
While all this took place in the course of half an hour, our soldiers in the rear, who occupied the higher part of the hill, cry out that another force, of heavy-armed cavalry, was to be seen behind the others, and that they were approaching with all possible speed. And, as is usual in times of trouble, we were in doubt whom we should, or could, resist, and pushed onward by the weight of the vast throng, we all scattered here and there, wherever each saw the nearest way of escape; and while everyone was trying to save himself from the great danger, we were mingled in scattered groups with the enemy’s skirmishers. And so, now scorning any desire for life and fighting manfully, we were driven to the banks of the Tigris, which were high and steep. From these some hurled themselves headlong, but entangled by their weapons stuck fast in the shoals of the river; others were dragged down in the eddying pools and swallowed up; some engaged the enemy and fought with varying success; others, terrified by the dense array of hostile ranks, sought to reach the nearest elevations of Mount Taurus. Among these the commander himself was recognised and surrounded by a horde of warriors, but he was saved by the speed of his horse and got away, in company with Aiadalthes, a tribune, and a single groom.
I myself, having taken a direction apart from that of my comrades, was looking around to see what to do, when Verennianus, one of the guard, came up with an arrow in his thigh; and while at the earnest request of my colleague I was trying to pull it out, finding myself surrounded on all sides by the foremost Persians, I moved ahead at breathless speed and aimed for the city, which from the point where we were attacked lay high up and could be approached only by a single very narrow ascent; and this was made still narrower by mills which had been built on the cliffs for the purpose of making the paths. Here, mingled with the Persians, who were rushing to the higher ground with the same effort as ourselves, we remained motionless until sunrise of the next day, so crowded together that the bodies of the slain, held upright by the throng, could nowhere find room to fall, and that in front of me a soldier with his head cut in two, and split into equal halves by a powerful sword stroke, was so pressed on all sides that he stood erect like a stump. And although showers of weapons from all kinds of artillery flew from the battlements, nevertheless the nearness of the walls saved us from that danger, and when I at last entered the city by a postern gate I found it crowded, since a throng of both sexes had flocked to it from the neighboring countryside. For, as it chanced, it was at that very time that the annual fair was held in the suburbs, and there was a throng of country folk in addition to the foreign traders. Meanwhile there was a confusion of varied cries, some bewailing their lost kindred, others wounded to the death, many calling upon loved ones from whom they were separated and could not see because of the press.

This is a very long a dense fragment, in which Ammianus narrates yet another occasion in which he narrowly escaped death or capture at the hands of the Sasanian army. Reading again between the lines, it doesn’t leave Ursicinus and the Roman cavalry in a very good light. When news reached Ursicinus that the Sasanian main army had bypassed Nisibis and turned north, he left Amida towards Samosata (to the west of Amida) to cross the Euphrates and secure that the bridges over this river were destroyed. Ammianus says nothing about it, but it’s possible that Ursicinus was going to leave Amida not only with his escort, but also with his small field army. To prevent surprises, Ursicinus had deployed the two units of Illyrian cavalrymen of his force to watch the road that led to the south, but these cavalrymen failed to keep guard at night, and they allowed a Sasanian cavalry force of 20,000 men commanded by Tamsapor and Nohodares (i.e., the cavalry vanguard of Šābuhr II’s army which was leading the invasion) to slip by unnoticed at night; and after this, the Sasanian cavalry force proceeded to hid in the high ground to the west of Amida. This is a monumental failure, as at least for me it’s hard to understand how they could’ve failed to detect a force of 20,000 cavalrymen (larger than Ursicinus’ whole army) passing near them, unless the lot of them were blind and deaf. The consequence is that when the following day Ursicinus left Amida towards Samosata, he was intercepted by this Sasanian force. At first, the Romans believed that they were facing only a small light cavalry force and were willing to offer battle, but when they realized they were facing a large army including the dreaded Sasanian savārān, the Roman force was forced to back towards the steep bank of the Tigris, where it collapsed into a disorderly rout. Ursicinus, accompanied by a tribune and a single groom, managed to escape westwards (as we will see) and cross the Euphrates, but Ammianus, with most of the remaining Roman forces, was forced to seek refuge within the walls of Amida; from within the city the garrison hurled a rain of projectiles against the pursuing Sasanian cavalry that allowed the Roman survivors to enter the city, together with a throng of civilians, as an annual fair was being held in the suburbs of the city. Ursicinus had been now separated from his small field force, which was now trapped within Amida, which was surrounded by a Sasanian force of 20,000 force and cut away from the Roman rearguard, while the main Sasanian army with Šābuhr II in command was fast approaching from the south.

Amida-from-Tigris.jpg

View of Amida from the banks of the Tigris. This would have been the view of the fleeing Romans as they retreated towards the city to seek refuge within its walls.

To which degree this was bad luck for the Romans and good fortune for the Sasanians, I’m not sure. Ammianus writes assuredly that Šābuhr II’s initial intention (following Antoninus’ advice) was to head towards Syria, but as I’ve said before, I see no practical benefit for Šābuhr II in doing so, other than trying to lure the Roman field army of the East into a pitched battle. By now the Sasanian king was a seasoned veteran and it’s quite probable that he had decided to change his tactics from the unsuccessful sieges of Nisibis that he undertook in the 340s CE at such high cost. It could be possible that what motivated Šābuhr II to change abruptly the direction of advance of his army was Sabinianus’ caution and his strong strategic position at Edessa. But this brings to the fore if Amida was then chosen deliberately by Šābuhr II as his secondary prize, or as if we will see (according to Ammianus) the Sasanians besieged the city “by accident”. I will say in advance that I find Ammianus’ explanation quite implausible. In my opinion, the Sasanian king was probably aware that Ursicinus’ force was posted at Amida, and this was what motivated his change of direction to the north: the objective was to capture Amida and destroy Ursicinus’ army. Unlike with Edessa, if the Sasanian cavalry moved swiftly enough (as it did), there was the possibility of cutting Amida from the Roman rearguard, isolating the Roman force; and if we are to believe Ammianus’ account, the Sasanians barely managed to do so, by a single day margin.

comitatuscavalry15.jpg

Late Roman cavalry, from the British reenactment group “Comitatus”.

But once they had the Roman force trapped within Amida, it would have been foolish to bypass it towards the north. What would have Šābuhr II achieved by doing this? Pillage Cappadocia? That would not bring him nearer to his strategic goal of reannexing Mesopotamia and Armenia to Ērānšahr; the only thing he could’ve have realistically achieved for would have been an invasion of Armenia, which would’ve been quite a senseless step, given that the Sasanians could’ve invaded Armenia whenever they wanted from Media and Atropatene in the east without leaving strong enemy forces behind their lines. Instead, by capturing Amida he would destroy around a third part of the total field forces available to the Romans in the East, and he would also capture one of the outer ring of fortresses that surrounded Nisibis, thus preparing the way for a final, definitive attack against this city without encumbrances for his supply lines. An added advantage was that Amida controlled the communications between Nisibis and Armenia (and Cappadocia), and so in a future siege of Nisibis, this would complicate the sending of Armenian reinforcements (or Roman forces from Cappadocia and Pontus) to the south.
 
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8.2 THE SIEGE OF AMIDA. THE APPROACH OF THE SASANIAN ARMY.

For this task, Ursicinus was put in command of three Gallic legions that Constantius II had ordered the caesar Julian to transfer to the east in 358 CE:
  • Magnentiani
  • Decimani
  • Legio XXX Ulpia Victrix
These were legions which had joined Magnentius’ usurpation and which were considered still somewhat “disloyal”, so transferring them to the East was mostly a political measure. To these forces, Ursicinus also added two units of Equites Illyricani, an elite unit of Comites Sagitarii (horse archers) and the two elite “light legions”) Superventores and Praeventores commanded by the comes Aelianus. All in all, a force of around 4,000 men. Harrel also thinks that Ursicinus would’ve commanded the limitanei forces posted in Mesopotamia and the regiones Transtigritanae, with authority over the Dux Mesopotamiae, an assumption that seems credible based on the fact that according to Ammianus’ account Ursicinus issued direct orders to this official.

Excellent post as always! One thing that jumps out is how often Roman legions are being transferred from the West to the East. It doesn't seem like there are any transfers the other way. Was the eastern border then just a never ending drain of manpower on the empire as a whole and what kind of impact did this cause on the eventual fall of the western half?
 
Excellent post as always! One thing that jumps out is how often Roman legions are being transferred from the West to the East. It doesn't seem like there are any transfers the other way. Was the eastern border then just a never ending drain of manpower on the empire as a whole and what kind of impact did this cause on the eventual fall of the western half?

The tendency from the reign of Augustus until the IV century CE was to increase the proportion of Roman forces detached in the East, in a slow but steady way across the centuries. Immediately before the Roman defeat at Teutoburg in 9 CE, there were 28 active legions, of which only four were posted in the East (plus two more in Egypt). That means that for a total force of ca. 290,000 men in the land armies, there were 32,000 posted in the East , amounting to 11% of the total numbers of the Roman land army (if we don't count the forces in Egypt).

At the death of Constantine I in 337 CE, there were 63 documented legions, but of course now they were smaller in some cases, and there was an overall lack of uniformity in their sizes. If we follow the estimate of R. Duncan-Jones, at this time the total numbers of the Roman army added up to 410,000 men, including 45,000 sailors and marine infantry. 410,000 - 45,000 = 365,000 men in the land army. 21 of these legions were posted in the East (excluding Egypt) , so that would amount to a 33,3% of the land forces. That's an increase by a factor of three over four centuries, a sure sign that the military situation in the East had worsened across time.

As for the direction of the transfers, the reason is quite simple: in Europe, there was no enemy who could mobilize armies as large as the ones of the Arsacid and Sasanian empires. If these Iranian empires were able to concentrate all their military capacity against the Roman East, time and again the local Roman forces proved inadequate or insufficient for the task, and it was necessary to transfer troops from elsewhere; most of the times these transfers were temporary, while others they were not (f.e. Legio XV Apollinaris was transferred from the Danube to the East to take part in Trajan's Parthian campaign and after Trajan's reign it appears based permanently at Satala in Cappadocia). Most of the increases in troops in the East though seem to have come from newly raised units (Legio I and III Parthicae under Septimius Severus) or from the dislocation of vexillationes from Eropean legions (especially Danubian legions) which became new legions in the East by themselves (as was the case under the Tetrarchy). In Europe, the only enemy that could've perhaps approached remotely the numerical strength of the Parthian and Sasanian armies were the Goths at the height of their power, during the second third of the III century CE.
 
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That might be a bit of an off-topic question, but were there any remnants of Hellenistic civilization in Sasanid Empire? For example some relic Greek populations of some hellenic-influenced sub kingdoms?
 
That might be a bit of an off-topic question, but were there any remnants of Hellenistic civilization in Sasanid Empire? For example some relic Greek populations of some hellenic-influenced sub kingdoms?

As far as I'm aware, in the western and central parts of the empire there were not many remnants. The major Hellenistic city in Mesopotamia, Seleucia, disappears from the record after the late II century CE when it was hit by a succession of disasters: the Antonine plague, the two Roman sacks by Lucius Verus and Septimius Severus, and finally an earthquake that displaced the riverbed of the Tigris to the east and so left the city without its fluvial harbor. The foundation of Veh-Ardashir by the first Sasanian king Ardashir I next to it probably hastened the end of whatever remains still existed of this once great Hellenistic metropolis.

Already in the I century CE, Greek had disappeared from the coinage of the Arsacid kings, and they had stopped calling themselves "Philhellene" in their coins. As far as I know, the only Greek text known from the Sasanian empire is precisely the trilingual inscription of Shapur I at Naqsh-e Rostam (SKZ), but it was probably carved out by Roman prisoners.

There were some vestiges of the Hellenistic past, of course. The most evident of them all was the main Sasanian silver coin, the drahm, which was based on the Attic silver drachm. There's also the (unconfirmed) theory that Ardashir I could have hired artisans from the Roman east (and so, probably ethnic Greeks) to build his great monuments in Fars, as the ashlar masonry employed at Ardashir-Khwarrah is unattested elsewhere in Iran at the time, but shows many parallels with Graeco-Roman building methods.

The strongest vestiges of Hellenism, paradoxically, were located in the eastern part of the Sasanian empire and beyond, in Bactria, Afghanistan and Gandhara, where Hellenistic art made a deep impression and was at the roots of the great flourishing of Buddhist Gandharan art. Also, Bactrian was written with an alphabet that was a direct borrowing of the Greek alphabet with a few changed letters, and would remain in use until the Muslim conquest. The influence of Hellenism (either directly from the remains of Alexander's colonies or through commercial relations with the Roman Empire) was much stronger in the Kushan Empire than in the late Arsacid or Sasanian empires. In this sense, the collapse of the Kushan Empire under Sasanian pressure after the reign of Shapur I also signaled the definitive twilight of Hellenism in central and southern Asia.
 
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8.3 THE SIEGE OF AMIDA. THE SASANIAN ARMY INVESTS THE CITY.
8.3 THE SIEGE OF AMIDA. THE SASANIAN ARMY INVESTS THE CITY.


Ammianus offers a description of Amida and its garrison in his account (Rerum Gestarum Libri XXI, XVIII, 2.1-4):

This city was once very small, but Constantius, when he was still a Caesar, in order that the neighbors might have a secure place of refuge, at the same time that he built another city called Antinopolis, surrounded Amida with strong walls and towers; and by establishing there an armory of mural artillery, he made it a terror to the enemy and wished it to be called after his own name. Now, on the south side it is washed by the winding course of the Tigris, which rises near-by; where it faces the blasts of Eurus it looks down on Mesopotamia’s plains; where it is exposed to the north wind it is close to the river Nymphaeus and lies under the shadow of the peaks of Taurus, which separate the peoples beyond the Tigris from Armenia; opposite the breath of Zephyrus it borders on Gumathena, a region rich alike in fertility and in tillage, in which is the village called Abarne, famed for its warm baths of healing waters. Moreover, in the very heart of Amida, at the foot of the citadel, a bountiful spring gushes forth, drinkable indeed, but sometimes malodorous from hot vapors. Of this town the regular garrison was formed by the Fifth Legion, Parthica, along with a force of no mean size of natives. But at that time six additional legions, having outstripped the advancing horde of Persians by rapid marches, were drawn up upon its very strong walls. These were the soldiers of Magnentius and Decentius, whom, after finishing the campaigns of the civil wars, the emperor had forced, as being untrustworthy and turbulent, to come to the Orient, where none but foreign wars are to be feared; also the soldiers of the Thirtieth, and the Tenth, also called Fortenses, and the Superventores and Praeventores with Aelianus, who was then a count; these troops, when still raw recruits, at the urging of the same Aelianus, then one of the guard, had made a sally from Singara (as I have said) and slain great numbers of the Persians while they were buried in sleep. There were also in the town the greater part of the comites sagittarii (household archers), that is to say, a squadron of horsemen so named, in which all the freeborn foreigners serve who are conspicuous above the rest for their prowess in arms and their bodily strength.

This fragment gives us a good idea of the garrison, although the description of the city itself is quite brief. As I wrote in a previous chapter, when war broke out between Šābuhr II and Constantine I in the late 330s, Constantius II was still caesar and had been appointed by his father as commander of the field army of the East. The invading Sasanian army, commanded by prince Narsē (perhaps a brother of Šābuhr II) took Amida easily, but was later completely defeated by Constantius at Narasara; after this victory Constantius retook Amida and surrounded it with strong walls; the new defenses included also a complete array of state-of-the-art defensive artillery which as we will see the proved itself very effective against the besiegers in 359 CE.

Amida-walls-02.jpg

One of the gates of the walls of the old city of Diyarbakir (ancient Amida). In their present state, they date to the reign of Valens in the late third of the IV century CE, with some minor additions and reinforcements added during the Middle Ages.

Amida was a city located in a strong defensive position; puzzlingly enough it was a natural location far stronger than that of Nisibis, which makes its fall in 359 CE after a brief but bloody siege quite surprising. The ancient city of Amida is today the old city of Diyarbakir, in southeastern Turkey. It lies on a plateau located immediately adjacent to a bend of the Tigris river, so that its southern and southwestern side limit with a relatively steep cliff that overlooks the river; the other sides are easily approachable from the neighboring flat terrain. The environs of Amida are a hilly terrain, as the city is located north of the Tur Abdin mountains, on the southern escarpments of the Armenian Plateau to the north. Today, the old city of Diyarbakir is remarkable because it preserves intact its Roman walls. These walls are made of local basaltic stone (a volcanic rock of considerable hardness), but they are not the walls built by Constantius II; they date to the reign of Valens, later in the IV century CE. From what I’ve been able to gather, archaeologists and historians just assume that they were built on top of the previous walls, which were destroyed by the Sasanian army after taking the city, but no serious archaeological study has been undertaken in this respect.

Amida-walls-11.jpg

The walls of Amida seen from the Tigris; the terrain is steep but not as steep as to render it impassable.

We can thus assume with relative certainty that the walls that existed in 359 CE were also made of basaltic stone and had a similar strength and overall design as the ones that can be seen today. The city had freshwater springs within its walls, and the basaltic soil meant that it was impossible for the besiegers to resort to mining (one of the preferred tactics of Sasanian engineers). But the city had also its weak spots: it had no moat, which means that the besiegers could approach the walls with war machines, ramps and scales unhindered, the cliff that surrounded it to the south and southwest was not steep enough to prevent enemy soldiers from climbing it, and it was surrounded by rich agricultural land which offered plenty of supplies to the besiegers (apparently, Ursicinus had not though it possible that the Sasanians would attack the city; this is the only explanation for the otherwise unexplainable negligence in applying here the policy of scorched earth that he had applied elsewhere in the province).

Amida-walls-06.jpg

Aerial view of the ancient city of Amida; the area between the city walls and the bend of the river Tigris covered with orchards is part of the 700 ha of cultivated farmland known as “Hevsel Gardens”, and together with the walls of the old city of Diyarbakir became a World Heritage Site in 2015.

It’s also clear that the Roman forces trapped inside were an ad hoc force caught unprepared for the siege, even if Ammianus tries to hide this fact by saying that the six additional legions had reached the city “by means of forced marches” before the “Persian horde” surrounded it (notice how he implies that Ursicinus deliberately sent them there to reinforce the garrison without actually saying so). Thanks to this passage of Ammianus, we know that Amida’s regular garrison was formed by Legio V Parthica (a limitanei unit), supported by unnamed “native” auxiliaries. To this regular garrison, Ursicinus had added with his (willing or unwilling) deployment the following units:
  • Magnentiaci: a mobile western legion, that had taken part in Magnentius’ revolt (hence its name), and had been transferred to the East for political reasons
  • Decimani: same as the previous unit.
  • Legio XXX: Ammianus does not give us its nickname, scholars believe it could be the ancient Legio XXX Ulpia Victrix; it was probably a mobile legion detached from Sabinianus’ army.
  • Legio X Fortenses: a mobile legion; from other sources we know that it existed already in Diocletian’s time and probably earlier, and that it was considered back in the days of the Tetrarchy as a crack elite unit (hence its nickname, from Latin fortis, meaning “strong”). It had also probably been detached from Sabinianus’ eastern field army.
  • Superventores and Praeventores: we’ve already met these units before. They were two elite “light” legions that were probably used to “police” the regiones Transtigritanae and that had already showed their skill in defensive operations during Šābuhr II’s failed first siege of Singara in the 340s. They were still under the command of the same officer, the comes Aelianus.
  • And finally, Ammianus adds that there were also inside the city “the greater part of the comites sagittarii”, which was an elite unit of horse archers belonging to the household troops of Constantius II.
John Harrel estimates that there must’ve been between 1,300 and 5,300 soldiers and 16,000 civilians within Amida when the Sasanian cavalry cut the approaches to the city. Most of it were elite troops, so the Romans had apparently a good chance of holding the city against the Sasanian king.

Meanwhile, the main Sasanian army was approaching Amida from the south, led by the Šahān Šāh himself, who showed political astuteness in his actions during this approach march (Rerum Gestarum Libri XXI, XVIII, 3.1-4):

While the storm of the first attack was thus busied with unlooked-for undertakings, the king with his own people and the nations that he was leading turned his march to the right from the place called Bebase, as Antoninus had recommended, through Horre and Meiacarire and Charcha, as if he would pass by Amida; but when he had come near two fortresses of the Romans, of which one is called Reman and the other Busan, he learned from the information of deserters that the wealth of many people had been brought there and was kept in what were regarded as lofty and safe fortifications; and it was added that there was to be found there with a costly outfit a beautiful woman with her little daughter, the wife of a certain Craugasius of Nisibis, a man distinguished among the officials of his town for family, reputation, and influence. Accordingly the king, with a haste due to his greed for seizing others’ property, attacked the fortresses with fiery confidence, whereupon the defenders, overcome with sudden panic and dazzled by the variety of arms, surrendered themselves and all those who had taken refuge with the garrison; and when ordered to depart, they at once handed over the keys of the gates. When entrance was given, whatever was stored there was brought out, and the women, paralyzed with fear, were dragged forth with the children clinging to their mothers and experiencing grievous woes at the beginning of their tender years. And when the king by inquiring whose wife the lady was had found that her husband was Craugasius, he allowed her, fearing as she did that violence would be offered her, to approach nearer without apprehension; and when she had been reassured and covered as far as her very lips with a black veil, he courteously encouraged her with sure hope of regaining her husband and of keeping her honor unsullied. For hearing that her husband ardently loved her, he thought that at this price he might purchase the betrayal of Nisibis. Yet finding that there were others also who were maidens and consecrated to divine service according to the Christian custom, he ordered that they be kept uninjured and allowed to practice their religion in their wonted manner without any opposition; to be sure he made a pretense of mildness for the time, to the end that all whom he had heretofore terrified by his harshness and cruelty might lay aside their fear and come to him of their own volition, when they learned from recent instances that he now tempered the greatness of his fortune with kindliness and gracious deportment.

In other words, knowing that he had (with good reason) a terrifying reputation among the civilian population of the province, Šābuhr II led a “PR” campaign to improve his image amongst it. Notice how here it’s revealed that Ammianus was not a Christian, and that Šābuhr II could be perfectly respectful towards Christians when it suited him (in other words, he did not have a problem with Christianity itself, but with it being a “Roman cult” and its followers being a potential Roman fifth column). His capture of the wife of Craugasius of Nisibis must also be understood as the securing of a hostage which could help him in a future attack against Nisibis, as Craugasius was evidently one of the most eminent citizens of this city. Finally, the Šahān Šāh reached Amida with his main army (Rerum Gestarum Libri XXI, XIX, 1.1-6):

The king, rejoicing in the wretched imprisonment of our men that had come to pass, and anticipating like successes, set forth from there, and slowly advancing, came to Amida on the third day. And when the first gleam of dawn appeared, everything so far as the eye could reach shone with glittering arms, and mail-clad cavalry filled hill and dale. The king himself, mounted upon a charger and overtopping the others, rode before the whole army, wearing in place of a diadem a golden image of a ram’s head set with precious stones, distinguished too by a great retinue of men of the highest rank and of various nations. But it was clear that he would merely try the effect of a conference on the defenders of the walls, since by the advice of Antoninus he was in haste to go elsewhere. However, the power of heaven, in order to compress the miseries of the whole Roman empire within the confines of a single region, had driven the king to an enormous degree of self-confidence, and to the belief that all the besieged would be paralyzed with fear at the mere sight of him, and would resort to suppliant prayers. So he rode up to the gates attended by his royal escort, and while with too great assurance he came so near that even his features could clearly be recognized, because of his conspicuous adornment he became the target of arrows and other missiles, and would have fallen, had not the dust hidden him from the sight of his assailants, so that after a part of his garment was torn by the stroke of a lance he escaped, to cause the death of thousands at a later time. In consequence of this attack he raged as if against sacrilegious violators of a temple, and declaring that the lord of so many kings and nations had been outraged, he pushed on with great effort every preparation for destroying the city; but when his most distinguished generals begged that he would not under stress of anger abandon his glorious enterprises, he was appeased by their soothing plea and decided that on the following day the defenders should again be warned to surrender.

Okay, this is an important passage, and one in which I will have to stop the narrative of the siege and launch into a little excursus that will bring us back to the eastern reaches of Ērānšahr. According to Ammianus (who, let’s remember it again, was a direct eyewitness) Šābuhr II himself rode to the walls in his regalia to convince the garrison to surrender, because he was a vain tyrant blinded by his own pride, and had to retreat under a rain of missiles thrown by the defenders; this was followed according to Ammianus by one of Šābuhr II’s rages in which he wanted to attack and destroy the city immediately and had to be dissuaded by his generals. This of course, is probably nothing else but a topos of Graeco-Roman culture, which saw eastern kings as bloody despots with no self-control (just remember the report of the third siege of Nisibis by Julian some chapters earlier); Ammianus was an eyewitness but I doubt that he got to see and hear as far as Šābuhr II’s tent in his encampment. The interesting thing here is that the Sasanian king wanted to avoid yet another bloody siege, and so he tried to negotiate a peaceful surrender, to which the Romans refused, and with good reason: most of the sieges against Roman fortresses led by Šābuhr II had been bloody defeats for him. There was also an added reason for Šābuhr II’s attempt to negotiate: if you remember an earlier chapter, Harrel estimated that a large field army at the time could have carried rations for 90 days maximum (for men and animals) in its baggage train. Between the march from the Tigris to Bebase (15 days, in Harrel’s estimate) and from Bebase to Amida (a similar distance, so probably another 15 days) a month had already passed, which left him with only 60 days for taking the city. Considering that he needed to open trenches, assemble siege machines and probably start other major siege works that required major engineering labor, that left him with very little time. So, attempting to negotiate a bloodless surrender was worth the risk.

Amida-tigris-02.jpg

View of the Tigris Valley and the Hevsel Gardens from the walls of Amida. As you can see, the besieging army could hope to get plenty of supplies from this rich farmland.

But apart from this, there is something in this passage that has called the attention of modern scholars; not of Classicists, but those versed in the story of Central Asia:

The king himself, mounted upon a charger and overtopping the others, rode before the whole army, wearing in place of a diadem a golden image of a ram’s head set with precious stones, distinguished too by a great retinue of men of the highest rank and of various nations.

Which has been linked with another passage set later, after the fall of the city (Rerum Gestarum Libri XXI, XIX, 2-11):

(…) the Persians called Sapor “saansaan” and “pirosen,” which being interpreted is “king of kings” and “victor in wars”.

The second fragment is a bit surprising in that Ammianus translates correctly two Middle Persian terms: saansaan of course means “king of kings (MP Šahān Šāh) and he actually over-translates pirosen (MP Pērōz) which means just “victorious” (exactly like the Latin “Victor”) not “victor in wars”. How did Ammianus manage to translate Middle Persian into Latin? Knowledge of Old or Middle Persian is extremely rare in Graeco-Roman authors, so it’s in itself a remarkable passage.

The real issue though is another. What irked scholars is the mention of the Sasanian king’s headgear: “a golden image of a ram’s head”. Headgear is extremely important in Sasanian iconography, and possibly it was also the case in Sasanian culture and the representation of the kings and nobles. In almost all of the existing royal images that can be attributed to Šābuhr II with complete certainty, he’s never wearing such a headgear, but a crenellated crown with a cloth korymbos on top of it (which he probably copied from his ancestor Šābuhr I). The diadem with a ram’s head is completely absent from his depiction in coins and reliefs.

Bahram-2-Kushanshah-01.jpg

Silver dish showing the image of an unknown Sasanian king wearing a crown/headgear with ram’s horns, exactly as the one described by Ammianus. Scholars are unsure about who this king could be; based on the similarity with the coins issued in name of Bahrām Kušān Šāh it’s been speculated that maybe it could be this king.

But there are images of other kings wearing a crown/helmet exactly like the one described by Ammianus: the last two attested Kušān Šāhs in the numismatic record, Pērōz 2 and Bahrām. They are depicted consistently in coins (repeatedly, in several issues) and even in a silver vessel, wearing a headgear that includes a ram’s head or at least ram’s horns. This has caused a huge amount of speculation on the part of scholars, especially numismatists, across the last decades.

If you remember my previous chapter about the appearance of the Huns in Central Asia, written evidence for the timeframe of the Hunnic invasions in this area is completely absent, so scholars have been forced to rely only on numismatics and archaeology, and every little bit of written evidence has been over-analyzed time and again. This passage of Ammianus is one of such bits of evidence. Numismatist Joe Cribb and historian Khodadad Rezakhani have launched the hypothesis that perhaps the royal figure riding in front of the walls of Amida was not Šābuhr II but the Kušān Šāh. The main problem with this hypothesis is immediately evident: Ammianus says nothing about the Kušān Šāh being present at the siege, especially when he described the advance of the Sasanian army along the Tigris.

But there could be some numismatic clues reinforcing such a hypothesis. Rezakhani in fact proposed that what the victorious besieging soldiers were shouting after the fall of Amida were not the royal titles of Šābuhr II, but the full name and title of the Kušān Šāh, and that this king would’ve been the king of the eastern peoples present in the siege of Amida as Šābuhr II’s allies: the Chionites, Gelani and Segestani (which means that Grumbates would’ve been a vassal of this king). Although as Rezakhani admits, there are further problems with this hypothesis: according to what seems to be the definitive (at least for now) dating of the Kušān Šāhs by numismatists Jongeward and Cribb, the reign of Pērōz 2 Kušān Šāh would have ended in 330 CE, so that makes it impossible for him to have been present at Amida.

Peroz-II-Kushanshah.jpg

Copper coin of Pērōz 2 Kušān Šāh. It follows all the style traits of Sasanian coins (copper coinage always imitated the issues in silver and gold, but never the other way around). The king is shown fully bearded and wearing a crown (than in this case of this king never varied during the course of his reign) and a fire altar in the reverse, with legends in Pahlavi script on both sides.

The numismatic evidence in this respect is suggestive, but quite problematic (and totally outside my very limited field of knowledge), I will try to summarize it here anyway.

Traditionally, the Hunnic invasions in Central Asia were understood by scholars as a series of invasions, in which different Hunnic waves came one after another: Chionites, Kidarites and finally Hephthalites. The first serious problem with this view came when an important hoard of V century CE coins was discovered at the ruins of the Tepe Maranjan Buddhist monastery in the Kabul Basin in Afghanistan in the 1930s, and a detailed analysis of the coins led scholars to conclude that most of these coins belonged to a hitherto unknown Hunnic people/issuing authority who called themselves (clearly and without any reasonable doubt) as Alkhon Huns (later corrected to Alkhan Huns). This led some scholars to start doubting the traditional framework, until Étienne de la Vaissière published in the 2000s an article that seems to have settled the issue of the Hunnic migrations in Central Asia (at last for the time being): there was a single episode of mass migration in between 350 and 370 CE, and the different names that appear in the sources or in the coinage reflect either different tribes or ruling dynasties of a single conglomerate of peoples that called themselves Huns (Xwn, Xyōn, etc., see the previous chapter).

With this new work hypothesis, scholars revisited the remaining material and literary evidence, and tried to reconstruct the sequence of events, with relative (or rather quite modest) success. Interpretation of the numismatic evidence is particularly tricky, and the different numismatists don’t agree much neither in timelines nor even in the general string of events. The timeline of the fall of the Sasanian vassal kingdom of Kušān Šāhr is particularly problematic. I will try to follow here the conclusions of British numismatist Joe Cribb, but beware that they’re not accepted by all the scholars (historians Étienne de la Vaissière and Frantz Grenet and numismatist Klaus Vondrovec have opposed many of them), but for the sake of keeping this thread intelligible given my limited abilities to deal with such an arcane subject, I will follow Cribb here unless I expressly write the opposite.

The fall of Kušān Šāhr is problematic for numismatists because the Hunnic newcomers changed initially very little from the coinage issued by the Kušān Šāhs, to the point that it took them probably decades to start issuing coins stating clearly the change of regime. When the Sasanians conquered Ṭoḵārestān and Gandhāra from the Kušān Empire, they also kept issuing gold dinars very similar to those that had been issued by the Kušān kings, but both the legends in the coins and the portrait of the king can be easily perceived (not only by numismatists) as having changed from the previous era; there had been a change in ruling dynasty. But the same did not happen in the IV century CE.

If we accept 330 CE as the year in which finished the reign of Pērōz 2 Kušān Šāh, this year also seems to mark an important change in the political and administrative structures in the eastern part of the Sasanian empire. Numismatists have found in Gandhāra examples of two series of copper coins issued there by what seem to be local satraps in the name of Šābuhr II Šahān Šāh dated to the 340s or 350s CE at the latest. This is interpreted by scholars as follows: due to unknown reasons, after the death of Pērōz 2 Kušān Šāh, Šābuhr II stripped his successor Bahrām from all the territories south of the Hindu Kush, which were then turned into regular Sasanian provinces ruled from the imperial court at Ctesiphon. The reasons for this sudden action are unknown, but some educated guesses can be made:
  • A rebellion from the Kušān Šāhs that Šābuhr II needed to punish.
  • A perceived incapacity of weakness by the Kušān Šāhs to defend their territories, which led to Šābuhr II assuming control of these territories in order to guarantee their defense. It’s unknown which sort of danger it might’ve been. Some scholars speculate that it could have been the beginnings of the Hunnic expansion, but there’s a chronological problem here, for Šābuhr II did not abandon his war against Rome in the west until 350 CE. To which I would add a logical one: if the Kušān Šāhs were failing against the Huns, the logical thing would have been for Šābuhr II to take control over their territories north of the Hindu Kush (i.e. Ṭoḵārestān), not south of them.
So, in my opinion that means that the reason was either a punishment carried on by Šābuhr II or if it was done for defensive reasons, the danger must’ve come from the south (i.e. from India) not from the north. At this time, Chandragupta I and Samudragupta were busy creating and expanding the Gupta Empire in northern India, but we know nothing against the relationships between the Gupta and Sasanian empires.

In turn, this leads to the interesting possibility that the troubles that Šābuhr II faced in the east after 350 CE could have involved a rebellion by Bahram Kušān Šāh against Šābuhr II, perhaps in alliance with the expanding northern tribes that had by then probably just reached Sogdiana. As we will see in a moment, numismatics provides strong hints at a relationship between this last Kušān Šāh and the Huns.

The first Hunnic king/ruler who issued coins in his name, still influenced by Sasanian coins but making a clear break in key aspects in the iconography and in the legend, is a certain Kidara, whose existence is also confirmed by Chinese sources (the Weishu). From the name of this first Hunnic ruler who minted coinage, historians have called the political entity that replaced Kušān Šāhr in Ṭoḵārestān and Gandhāra as Kidarites (known also as Kidarite Huns, etc.). Cribb dated the first coins issued in the name of Kidara to before 375 CE in any case, and perhaps as early as 369 CE. But the story doesn’t end here, because as you can see both dates fall clearly after the siege of Amida. As was customary in Central Asian nomadic peoples (and also among the Sasanian and Arsacid royal houses and grandees), Kidara marked his coins and seals with a tamgha, and so did his successors. This is believed to be by scholars the sign or emblem of either the clan or Kidara or his tribe (tamghas were used in both capacities). But many of the coins issued in the name of Bahrām Kušān Šāh also bear the Kidarite tamgha, which has puzzled scholars to no end to this day. The intermingling of symbols and titles doesn’t end here though, because in his coinage Kidara identified himself as “Great Kušān King” and said nothing about his Hunnic ancestry, evidently trying to portray himself as the legitimate successor of the Kušān Šāhs and the Great Kušāns before them.

The chronological sequence of late Kushano-Sasanian and early Kidarite coinage in Ṭoḵārestān and Gandhāra, as reconstructed by numismatist Joe Cribb, is as follows:
  • Coins issued in the name of Pērōz 2: in all of them the king is shown wearing a crown with bull horns. There are no distinctive sub-issues; his coinage is extremely stable throughout his reign and seems to have been under strict central control.
  • Coins issued in the name of Bahrām: here the picture changes drastically. In the first issues, the king is portrayed wearing a flat crown adorned with what seem either pearls in one case and lotus flowers in the other, without no tamgha or any other mark. But some time later, he starts to be depicted wearing a different crown with both pearls and lotus flowers, and a tamgha appears. After this phase, coins start to be issued in the name of Bahrām but wearing a headgear with ram’s horns, also showing a tamgha. In a fourth phase, the portrait of the ruler appears wearing a crown adorned with lotus flowers, which then changes into a crown adorned with double lotuses in a fifth stage, and in the sixth and final stage, the portrait of the ruler is depicted wearing a flat crown adorned with double lotuses and ribbons. All the coins issued from stages two to six show the Kidarite tamgha.
Bahram-Kushansha-1.png

Gold scyphate dinar issued in the name of Bahrām Kušān Šāh. It follows the iconography that the Kushano-Sasanian kings adopted from their defeated Kušān predecessors: the king standing in full armor in the obverse wearing a spear, and a religious figure in the reverse (usually the main Bactrian deity Oeso, sometimes identified with the Indian god Shiva; accompanied by the bull Nandi, a clear loan from Hinduist tradition). The king appears fully bearded and wears a crown adorned with two rows of florets. This is one of the rare coins of its time in which the mint is quoted in the coin: it was minted in Balkh. (According to Joe Cribb and A. Oddy in “The Kidarites, the Numismatic evidence”).

Bahram-Kushansha-Kidarite-5.png

Gold scyphate dinar issued in the name of Bahrām Kušān Šāh. At first sight, everything seems exactly as in the previous coin, except for two details. The crown of the king has changed and now he’s wearing one adorned with pearls and lotus petals, and more importantly: on the obverse, to the right of the standing king, you can see the Kidarite tamgha. Again, the mint is named in the coin: Balkh (According to Joe Cribb and A. Oddy in “The Kidarites, the Numismatic evidence”).

Kidarite-Tamgha.png

The Kidarite tamgha in detail, that would be displayed in all the coins of the Kidarite rulers that ruled in Ṭoḵārestān, Sogdiana and Gandhāra after Bahrām Kušān Šāh.

Bahram-Kushansha-Kidarite-Rams-Horns-7.png

Gold scyphate dinar issued in the name of Bahrām Kušān Šāh. The crown of the king has changed and now he’s wearing one with ram’s horns (as in the silver plate shown above and like in Ammianus’ text). Once more, on the obverse, to the right of the standing king, you can see the Kidarite tamgha. The mint is not quoted in the coin (According to Joe Cribb and A. Oddy in “The Kidarites, the Numismatic evidence”).

Bahram-Kushansha-Kidarite-Ribbons-12.png

Gold scyphate dinar issued in the name of Bahrām Kušān Šāh. This is the final stage in the evolution of Bahrām’s “Kidarite” coinage. The crown of the king has changed and now he’s wearing one with lotus petals and raised ribbons. Once more, on the obverse, to the right of the standing king, you can see the Kidarite tamgha. The mint is not quoted in the coin (According to Joe Cribb and A. Oddy in “The Kidarites, the Numismatic evidence”).
  • After these last issues in the name of Bahrām, the coinage minted locally in Ṭoḵārestān and Gandhāra is issued in the name of Kidara, who usually proclaims himself (sometimes in Middle Persian using Pahlavi script, other times in Bactrian using Bactrian script) as “Kidara, Great Kušān King”. The crown he wears in his first issues is exactly the same that appears in the last issues of Bahrām.
Kidara-13.png

Gold scyphate dinar issued in the name of Kidara. This is the earliest gold coin issued in the name of Kidara; as you can see it copies faithfully the iconography of the latest issues of Bahrām Kušān Šāh. The crown he wears is exactly the same as in the last coins of Bahrām Kušān Šāh, and the Bactrian legend in the coin proclaims him as “Kidara, Great Kušān King” (According to Joe Cribb and A. Oddy in “The Kidarites, the Numismatic evidence”).

Traditionally the appearance of the first coins issued in the name of Kidara has been considered as the chronological border between Kushano-Sasanian rule and the rule of the Kidarite Huns. But Cribb and some other scholars like Khodadad Rezakhani have recently put this view into question, because as we have seen the Kidarite tamgha appear in the coins issued in the name of Bahrām for quite some time before the appearance of the first coins in Kidara’s name. And Cribb has refined things even more, because he has identified in the coinage several names of rulers who could be Kidarite predecessors of Kidara (in view of this, the name “Kidarite” for these subgroup of Huns is perhaps a bit confusing) in coins issued before his first “official” series; that is, during the rule of Bahrām. These names appear in several separate types of coins found in a land area that stretches between the Āmu Daryā and the Indus.

As we saw in a previous chapter, at this time, the last two Kušān kings, Shaka and Kipunadha, were ruling the remaining Kušān territory which was probably located in the Punjab and perhaps Kashmir. Cribb identified that, at some point during the reign of these two kings, another authority who also used the Kidarite tamgha began minting gold coins very similar to the issues of the last two Kušān kings. In turn, Cribb also noticed that gold coins very similar to these “Kidarite” issues were minted in northwestern India in the name of “Samudra” and bearing inscriptions in Sanskrit using Brāhmī script. This “Samudra” is probably no other than the great Gupta emperor Samudragupta, whose death is securely dated to 375 CE; this provides a very secure terminus ante quem for the dating of these Kušān-imitation Kidarite coins. This means that before 375 CE (while Šābuhr II was still alive, as he died in 379 CE) the Kidarites had crossed the Hindu Kush and had conquered Gandhāra and probably also the last remaining territories of the last Kušān kings in western Punjab and Kashmir (at least those who were not annexed by Samudragupta into his empire). What’s even more interesting for us from a chronological point of view though is that there’s the possibility that the Kidarites had already reached India during the reign of Shaka, Kipunadha’s predecessor, as some of these Kidarite coins imitate Shaka’s coinage. There’s a great deal of uncertainty about the dates of his reign, but most sources place his death either in 340 CE, 350 CE or 360 CE. That pushes the presence of the Kidarites in India back to the 350s CE, and if they’d reached the south of the Hindu Kush by then, that means that previously they had managed to assert their control over Ṭoḵārestān at the expense of the Kušān Šāhs and over Gandhāra at the expense of Šābuhr II himself. The names of the (alleged) Kidarite rulers named in the legends of these Kidarite-Indian coins are (in no chronological order):
  • Kirada (careful, not to be confused with Kidara).
  • Hanaka.
  • Yasada.
  • Pērōz (the exact name in the coins is Peroysa).
The chronological placement of these rulers (they could very well have been contemporaries and have ruled each over one or other faction of the Kidarite Huns that crossed the Hindu Kush) is unclear. Eventually, all these coins were succeeded, as in Ṭoḵārestān north of the Hindu Kush, by coins issued in the name of Kidara. As with the coins of the two last Kušān kings, the legends in these coins show a mix of degenerated, barely legible Bactrian, and Sanskrit or Prakrit using Brāhmī script. Hanaka calls himself Shaha (king), and Kirada, Yasada and Peroysa identify themselves with Gandhāra (Gadahara in the legends). Kidara, as in his “northern” coinage, calls himself “Kušān” in his coins, in several forms (the Kušān, the Kušān King, the Great Kušān King, etc.).

Hanaka-26.png

Kušān-style gold coin issued in northwestern India. The legend in Brāhmī reads “Hanaka Shahi” (King Hanaka) (According to Joe Cribb and A. Oddy in “The Kidarites, the Numismatic evidence”).

Yasada-Gadahara-27.png

Kušān-style gold coin issued in northwestern India. The legend in Brāhmī reads “Yasada Gadahara” (Yasada Gandhāra) (According to Joe Cribb and A. Oddy in “The Kidarites, the Numismatic evidence”).

Kirada-Gadahara-28.png

Kušān-style gold coin issued in northwestern India. The legend in Brāhmī reads “Kirada Gadahara” (Kirada Gandhāra) (According to Joe Cribb and A. Oddy in “The Kidarites, the Numismatic evidence”).

Peroysa-Gadahara-36.png

Kušān-style gold coin issued in northwestern India. The legend in Brāhmī reads “Peroysa Gadahara” (Pērōz Gandhāra) (According to Joe Cribb and A. Oddy in “The Kidarites, the Numismatic evidence”).

Kidara-Kushana-39.png

This is the final step in the evolution of these Kušān-imitation gold coins issued by Kidarite rulers. This gold coin was issued in northwestern India. The legend in Brāhmī reads “Kidara Kušāna” (Kidara the Kušān) (According to Joe Cribb and A. Oddy in “The Kidarites, the Numismatic evidence”).

The other set of coins of interest to us in Cribb’s detailed analysis are the Sasanian-style silver coins issued in Ṭoḵārestān and Gandhāra bearing the Kidarite tamgha while being still ostensibly issued under the authority of Bahrām. These coins followed closely the pattern of the Sasanian silver drahm, and (the ones that were being issued at the time in the Sasanian empire) it was rare for coins to display the name or sign of the mint that issued name, which has been the source of endless frustration for scholars. Based on his study of the dies, specific gravity, iconography and stylistic aspects of the coins, Cribb concluded that they were issued at five different mints, which he named as A, B, C, D and E. He did not try to identify them with known geographical localities, but we can be quite sure that one of these mints must’ve been Balkh, which was probably the capital of Kušān Šāhr and the largest city in Ṭoḵārestān.

At each mint, the earliest ruler represented on the coins seems to be the same person. At mints B, C and E he is identified by inscriptions as Pērōz (spelt Peroysa and Pilaca in Brāhmī, Pirozo in Bactrian and Pyrwcy in Pahlavi). He is shown with portraits wearing two different crowns, ram horns at mints B and C and a flat crown at mint E. The flat crown at mint E has the same shape as the Sasanian crown worn by the Kushano-Sasanian kings Pērōz 1, Pērōz 2 (with added bull’s horns) and Bahrām, and the Sasanian kings Narsē (first crown) and Šābuhr III. From these portraits, Cribb infers that the portrait at mint A wearing a ram horns crown accompanied by the Brāhmī letter pe is also the same Pērōz, even though the Pahlavi inscription names a king called “Bahrām, Kušān king”. The coins of the other mints do not name Pērōz, but the figure of the ruler portrayed in them is extremely similar to the ones where he is named as Pērōz. In every mint the Pērōz issues are followed by coins with the name Kidara or with associated crowns.

Peroz-Rams-Horns-41.png

Silver drahm presumably portraying Pērōz. The coin follows Sasanian iconography, with the ruler being fully bearded and shown with his bust and face in profile and bearing a crown with ram’s horns, and a fire altar with two attendants on the reverse. The Pahlavi inscription on the obverse reads “Kay Bahrām K… (ušān Šāh?)”. Issued by mint “A” (According to Joe Cribb and A. Oddy in “The Kidarites, the Numismatic evidence”).

Peroz-Rams-Horns-43.png

Silver drahm portraying Pērōz. The coin follows Sasanian iconography, with the ruler being fully bearded and shown with his bust and face in profile and bearing a crown with ram’s horns and ribbons, and a fire altar with two attendants on the reverse. The Pahlavi inscription on the obverse reads “Pērōz Šāh”. Issued by mint “B” (According to Joe Cribb and A. Oddy in “The Kidarites, the Numismatic evidence”).

Peroz-Rams-Horns-47.png

Silver drahm portraying Pērōz. The coin begins to break with standard Sasanian iconography; the ruler is still fully bearded but is shown in a frontal three quarters pose and bearing a crown with ram’s horns and ribbons. The fire altar with two attendants on the reverse remains the same. The Brāhmī inscription on the obverse reads “Peroysa Sha”. Issued by mint “C” (According to Joe Cribb and A. Oddy in “The Kidarites, the Numismatic evidence”).

Kidara-Silver-49.png

Silver drahm portraying Kidara. It follows the trend of the previous coin, with the ruler being depicted in a frontal three quarters pose; bearing a crown with triple florets and ribbons. For the first time, the king is portrayed beardless, as it was the custom among the Huns (they were either clean-shaven or wore a moustache, but not full beards). The legend in Brāhmī on the obverse reads “Kidara Kushana Sha” (Kušān King Kidara). Issued by mint “C”, after the issues of Pērōz shown above (According to Joe Cribb and A. Oddy in “The Kidarites, the Numismatic evidence”).

Finally, there’s also a silver coinage found in Gandhāra and adjacent regions in northwestern India and associated with the Kidarites. This silver coinage, based on the Sasanian silver drahm and produced by at least four mints, begins with issues in the name of a ruler called Pērōz, who wears a ram horns crown. The crown has a crenellation at the front and a poppy-like crown ball above. The crenellation resembles the one used on the crown of the Sasanian Šahān Šāh Šābuhr II.

And now, time for the conclusions and to end this long detour. What Joe Cribb and Khodadad Rezakhani point out (and they seem to have quite solid reasons for it, in my opinion) is that it’s a bit too much of a coincidence that a king bearing a “ram’s head crown” and which is called “Pērōz” by his troops was present at the siege of Amida as reported by Ammianus while at the same time there was a leader associated with the Kidarites in Ṭoḵārestān and Gandhāra who is depicted in coins on both sides of the Hindu Kush bearing such a crown/helmet/headgear and who is also called “Pērōz” in the legends present in the coins in several languages. Some scholars don’t hesitate in calling this ruler as “Pērōz 3” and considering him as the last of the Kušān Šāhs, but this seems to be quite a minority position.

In the last two decades, a view had gained currency among scholars that the last Kušān Šāh Bahrām was probably for most of his reign little else than a puppet in the hands of the newly arrived Kidarite Huns. There’s also the possibility (hinted at by a minority of scholars) that the Huns were called as mercenaries or allies by Bahrām Kušān Šāh (probably in a rebellion against Šābuhr II) and he ended up as little more than a figurehead as these newcomers became more and more powerful and stripped him of any real authority. This would explain Ammianus’ reference that in 350 CE Šābuhr II had to leave for the eastern parts of his empire and that he remained there for nine years, fighting against the “Chionites and Euseni/Cuseni”. If the chronological and numismatic sequence proposed by Cribb is correct, it implies that in 359 CE Šābuhr II had not defeated the rebellion/invasion, but that he had just managed to reach an agreement with the puppet king Bahrām and his Hunnic masters.

Cribb is quite sure that Bahrām Kušān Šāh of the early Kidarite gold coinage from Ṭoḵārestān and the Pērōz named in the silver coinage of Ṭoḵārestān and Gandhāra were different persons. He doesn’t explain who would this Pērōz had been: a Hunnic leader (with a Middle Persian name?) or a Kushano-Sasanian nobleman that had decided to join the Kidarites, as they seemed to be on the rise. The problem though is that in Middle Persian Pērōz can be both an adjective and a man’s name. It could just be an adjective functioning as a title of Bahram, or it could be indeed a person called Pērōz; precisely it’s in Kušān Šāhr where the usage of Pērōz as a masculine name is first attested, and later this onomastic innovation was adopted in Iran proper (almost a century later, judging by the written testimonies).

So, if we follow Cribb and Rezakhani’s hypothesis, it’s possible that one of the kings/rulers present at Amida was this Pērōz of uncertain Sasanian/Kidarite allegiances, and that perhaps it was him the one who commanded the whole “eastern” contingent, with Grumbates being de facto his subordinate/vassal. The problem with this hypothesis, however suggestive, is obvious: Ammianus says nothing of the sort, and he was a direct eyewitness. But in turn we should perhaps ask ourselves about Ammianus’ reliability when dealing with the political structure of the Sasanian empire. Once more, let’s keep in mind that he was just a soldier; of an elite corps, but a soldier, nonetheless. He was not a diplomat, ambassador, minister or nothing of the sort, and so his understanding of such complex political realities and his worldview had to be quite limited in scope.

Following this trend of speculation, we could also address the issue of the Segestani contingent. All scholars consider that Ammianus refers here to the troops of the sub-kingdom of Sakastān/Sagestān. But here we find another incongruence: as we’ve seen in a previous chapter, at the time Sagestān was ruled by Šābuhr II’s brother, Šābuhr Sakān Šāh, and it’s possible that his kingdom also included other eastern territories, like it had been the case when Narsē ruled them during the reigns of Šābuhr I, Bahrām I and Bahrām II (Makrān, Pāradān, Turān and Hind). This idea is perhaps supported that according to Ammianus’ account the Segestani contingent included the elephant corps, as could be expected if the army had been partly levied in India. But the problem with this identification can also be found in Ammianus’ account: where is Šābuhr Sakān Šāh? In a campaign of such importance, he should have been leading his army, and be given a position of importance and responsibility as Šābuhr II’s brother and a member of the House of Sāsān (which could not be said for any of the other rulers and kings present in the campaign). In fact, Rezakhani hints at the possibility that the “Segestani” contingent wasn’t Segestani at all, and that it was a force levied in Ṭoḵārestān, Gandhāra and perhaps other Indian territories that had already been overrun by the Kidarites (which would also explain the presence of the elephant corps).

Although as you can see there’s a lot of unproved hypothesis and educated guesses in Cribb and Rezakhani’s theories, I think that there’s something in Ammianus’ report of the siege that could be explained by it: Šābuhr II employed all these “eastern” forces (Segestanis included) as cannon fodder against Amida, commanding them to launch frontal assaults against the walls armed only with ladders, without any sort of siege equipment. In the meantime, he kept his “Persians” in reserve, and possibly he only deployed them once the Sasanian war machines had been assembled and his engineers had built a huge siege ramp against the city. It’s almost as if he wanted these forces to suffer losses for the sake of it (he knew very well from experience how dangerous it was to assault a Roman fortress). I would not exclude some sort of Machiavellian plotting on Šābuhr II’s part in this campaign; it’s also worth noting that in the campaign of the following year Ammianus says nothing about eastern troops being present in the Sasanian army, which could perhaps be a consequence of the Kidarites’ discontent because of their high losses and Šābuhr II’s command of the campaign.

Well, after this eastern detour (long and perhaps boring, but necessary in my opinion), we return now to Amida, and to Ammianus’ account (Rerum Gestarum Libri XXI, XIX, 1.7-10; 2.1):

And so, at the first dawn of day, Grumbates, king of the Chionitae, wishing to render courageous service to his lord, boldly advanced to the walls with a band of active attendants; but a skillful observer caught sight of him as soon as he chanced to come within range of his weapon, and discharging a ballista, pierced both cuirass and breast of Grumbates’ son, a youth just come to manhood, who was riding at his father’s side and was conspicuous among his companions for his height and his handsome person. Upon his fall all his countrymen scattered in flight, but presently returned in well-founded fear that his body might be carried off, and with harsh outcries roused numerous tribes to arms; and on their onset weapons flew from both sides like hail and a fierce fight ensued. After a murderous contest, protracted to the very end of the day, at nightfall the body, which had with difficulty been protected amid heaps of slain and streams of blood, was dragged off under cover of darkness (…). By this death the palace was saddened, and all the nobles, as well as the father, were stunned by the sudden calamity; accordingly, a truce was declared and the young man, honored for his high birth and beloved, was mourned after the fashion of his own nation. Accordingly, he was carried out, armed in his usual manner, and placed upon a large and lofty platform, and about him were spread ten couches bearing figures of dead men, so carefully made ready that the images were like bodies already in the tomb. For the space of seven days all men by communities and companies feasted (lamenting the young prince) with dances and the singing of certain sorrowful dirges (…).
After the body had been burned and the ashes collected and placed in a silver urn, since the father had decided that they should be taken to his native land to be consigned to the earth, they debated what it was best to do; and it was resolved to propitiate the spirit of the slain youth by burning and destroying the city; for Grumbates would not allow them to go farther while the shade of his only son was unavenged.

This is one of the most “popular” sections of Ammianus’ work; after the fiasco of the previous day Šābuhr II (or perhaps Bahrām Kušān Šāh or Pērōz, according to Cribb and Rezakhani’s hypothesis) sent his vassal/ally Grumbates, king of the Chionites, to try to negotiate the surrender of Amida. Once again they were met with hostility, and Grumbates’ son was killed by one of the artillery pieces that the Romans had placed on the walls of the city (a ballista, which fired large arrows, and whose missiles were more than enough to pierce the heavy armor worn by Sasanian heavy cavalrymen). After leaving the field in a panic, the Chionites returned to retrieve the body while the Roman defenders made a sally to contest it, but finally, upon cover of night, they managed to rescue the corpse of the fallen prince. That the Chionites were not ethnically Iranian is made clear by Ammianus’ mention of the prince being burnt in a pyre, which would’ve been an utter abomination for any self-respectful Zoroastrian (it would’ve been a pollution of fire, the most sacred of the elements) and at the time there would’ve been very few Iranian peoples who did not follow Zoroastrian custom in one way or another (perhaps some nomad tribes in the steppe, part of the Bactrians who were Buddhist and the pre-Pashtun peoples of Afghanistan, who would’ve been either Buddhist or would’ve followed pre-Zoroastrian Aryan religion).

Ballista.jpg

Reconstruction of a Roman ballista, of the type that would have been mounted on top of the walls of a fortress.

According to Ammianus, it was this death that sealed the decision of the invading army to take and destroy the city. Once again, we’re faced here with an ancient author’s flair for drama and the irresistible temptation of drawing parallels with the classic works of Graeco-Roman culture (one of the two fragments I’ve edited out from the quote above has Ammianus waxing poetic comparing the death of Grumbates’ son and the fight for his corpse to passages from the Iliad). Perhaps I’m too cynical, but I find it hard to believe that Šābuhr II, who by now was a man of fifty years of age, and who had reigned personally for almost thirty-five of them, and who had shown time and again his ruthlessness, cunning and sharp eye for diplomacy and military command, would allow a campaign to be derailed like that by a vassal king (and one who had been a sworn enemy until recently). Several scholars believe that besieging and taking Amida (without bloodshed if possible) was Šābuhr II’s intention from the start, and that the Roman soldier who manned the ballista that killed Grumbates’ son actually did the Šahān Šāh a great favor, because this death cemented the resolve of his allies to take the city, and I agree with them. Ammianus’ account enters now into the siege of Amida proper, and his writing takes an epic flavor that I’m sure was much to the old soldier’s liking (Rerum Gestarum Libri XXI, XIX, 2.2-5):

Accordingly, after two days had been given to rest, a large force was sent to devastate the rich, cultivated fields, which were unprotected as in time of peace; then the city was surrounded by a fivefold line of shields, and on the morning of the third day gleaming bands of horsemen filled all places which the eye could reach, and the ranks, advancing at a quiet pace, took the places assigned them by lot. The Persians beset the whole circuit of the walls. The part which faced the east fell to the lot of the Chionitae, the place where the youth so fatal to us was slain, whose shade was destined to be appeased by the destruction of the city. The Gelani were assigned to the southern side, the Albani guarded the quarter to the north, and to the western gate were opposed the Segestani, the bravest warriors of all. With them, making a lofty show, slowly marched the lines of elephants, frightful with their wrinkled bodies and loaded with armed men, a hideous spectacle, dreadful beyond every form of horror, as I have often declared.
Beholding such innumerable peoples, long got together to set fire to the Roman world and bent upon our destruction, we despaired of any hope of safety and henceforth strove to end our lives gloriously, which was now our sole desire. And so, from sunrise until the day’s end the battle lines stood fast. as though rooted in the same spot; no sound was heard, no neighing of horses; and they withdrew in the same order in which they had come, and then refreshed with food and sleep, when only a small part of the night remained, led by the trumpeters’ blast they surrounded the city with the same awful ring, as if it were soon to fall.