The ‘end of Roman Britain’ raises many of the same type of question as the ‘fall of the Roman Empire’. It must have ended in some manner and at some point, but without some titanic fight for survival on the battlefield recorded by the written sources, it leaves many looking for that endpoint, even if it means having to somewhat manufacture one. “Over the centuries, myth, pseudo-history, and educated guesswork have rushed in to fill the void[; however,] the increased focus on the period has cast a doubt on almost every important assumption that has been made about early Britain” (Mummey (2002), 65)
In the case of the ‘end of Roman Britain’, even though there is by no means a clear cut, single moment in time, that ‘endpoint’ was assumed to be the so-called ‘Rescript of Honorius’ of 411 when that emperor reputedly told the British cities to look after their own defence. The central government telling the locals to look after themselves seems rather definitive in the case of an endpoint of Roman Britain. Certainly, at the time in 411, Honorius was in no position to provide aid to the Britons, holed up in Ravenna in the face of the Goths of Alaric.
However, there are significant issues with this ‘rescript’. There is no contemporary mention of it – the sixth century eastern Roman writer Zosimus is the first to record it and when he does bring it up, he does so at a seemingly random moment in the middle of a discussion on events in Italy. This has led to some suggestion that there has been some textual errors rendering as ‘Britain’ would should have been ‘Bruttium’ (Halsall, (2007) 217-218). Such a correction is in itself speculative and there is some corroboration of British pleas for help from the central government in the pages of Gildas, as we shall see below.
In searching for some definitive end to Roman Britain, there is perhaps one inescapable truth – Roman control of Britain had been crumbling for years before Honorius’ so-called abandonment in 411. Decades of Pictish, Irish and Germanic raiding and revolt had sucked resources away from Britain, as British usurpers felt the need to press their imperial claims on the Continent, taking much of the British legionary garrison with them, never to return in full strength.
Local British malcontent with the central Roman government was not something new, having been a major issue during the third century, with the island supporting the breakaway Gallic Empire, rebellion against the emperor Probus and the independence of Carausius and Allectus. Britain also played host to the usurpations of Constantine I, Magnus Maximus, Marcus, Gratian and Constantine III, gave some support to Magnentius and may have spawned the shadowy characters of ‘Carausius II’ and ‘Censeris/Genseris’ in the mid-350s.
Such is the number of British usurpations and the failures of the central government to provide any aid to the island that it is unclear if it was Britain that left the empire or the empire that left Britain. (Jones (1998) vs Mommsen (1885)).
Furthermore, it is now less clear to what extent Britain exited the Roman Empire in the first half of the fifth century. The ‘Rescript of Honorius’ and the expulsion of Roman magistrates around a year earlier seems clear, but this expulsion may be specifically related to officials of Constantine III rather than an ejection of Roman officials and infrastructures in general.
Any kind of British independence, either foisted upon or won by its civitates, does not necessarily mean that the Britain of the first half of the fifth century (and indeed beyond) is to be considered as being outside the Roman world, at least until Gildas’ age of ‘tyrannical kings’ (Gildas, De Excidio et Conquestu Britanniae 27.1).
Indeed, the continued connection between Britain and the central Roman government or at the very least the recognition by the former that the latter may be able or willing to provide military or financial assistance is demonstrated by an incident that took place in the late 440s or early 450s – the so-called gemitus Britannorum or ‘Groans of the Britons.’
At least 35 years after the supposed end of the Roman occupation in 411, a member of the Roman hierarchy received a letter from Britain: its contents were a description of the sorry state parts of the island had declined to and an appeal for assistance against various Pictish and Irish raiders. The message is recorded by the British monk Gildas in his De Excidio et Conquestu Britanniae, written in the second quarter of the sixth century (repeated by Bede, Historia ecclesiastica gentis Anglorum 25).
There are some considerable issues with Gildas as a source. His De Excidio et Conquestu Britanniae is much less a realistic, historical piece and more a hyperbolic, religious polemic, looking to demonstrate the depths of chaos to which the impious British had sunk, a picture of destruction not borne out by the archaeological evidence. But what appears to be a last-ditch plea for assistance would suggest that something was happening in ‘Sub-Roman’ Britain.
Agitio ter consuli, gemitus britannorum. [...] Repellunt barbari ad mare, repellit mare ad barbaros; inter haec duo genera funerum aut iugulamur aut mergimur.
Gildas, De Excidio et Conquestu Britanniae 20.1
‘To Agitius, thrice consul: the groans of the Britons. [...] The barbarians drive us to the sea, the sea drives us to the barbarians; between these two means of death, we are either killed or drowned.’
J. A. Giles (1848) revision of T. Habington (1638)
‘To Aetius, thrice consul: the groans of the British… The barbarians push us back to the sea, the sea pushes us back to the barbarians; between these two kinds of death, we are either drowned or slaughtered’.
M. Winterbottom (1978)
Who was ‘Agitio’?
The most pressing issue for placing this ‘groan’ in a chronological setting is to identify the ‘Agitio’ to whom it is addressed. First instincts might be to suggest that this name looks Germanic in origin, similar to names like Arbitio, who was seen in Roman service under Constantius II, Julian and Valens. Certainly, there would have been more than enough room to suggest that the Britons could have been appealing to a German commander within the fracturing Roman military hierarchy in the mid-fifth century.
That said, positions such as the consulship were usually withheld from men of non-Roman origins. There were, of course, exceptions – the aforementioned Arbitio was consul in 355, Nevitta in 362, Dagalaifus in 366, Bauto in 385, Fravitta in 401, Plintha in 419, Ardabur in 427, Aspar and Areobindus in 434. There may be others obscured by their taking of thoroughly Roman names, but it appears that while non-Roman consuls became accepted, they were not necessarily the norm or even a completely regular occurrence. It must also be pointed out that for all of these non-Romans to serve as consul, none have the name ‘Agitio’ or even anything really close to it.
This ‘Agitio’ is therefore either an otherwise unknown Romano-German commander or there is some kind of spelling issue. As the letter is addressed to the individual in question, it would make sense for his name to be in the dative case. This then would suggest that the recipient of the letter was not ‘Agitio’ but ‘Agitius’.
While changing the recipient from an unknown German name to a Latin one appears to be a great help, unfortunately, ‘Agitius’ is similarly unknown as a Latin name… This leaves us with the likelihood of a spelling error somewhat obscuring the recipient of the ‘groans of the Britons.’
We can, however, use logic to narrow down the options. While relying on Gildas does raise some questions – he was writing nearly a century later, plus how would he know the contents of an appeal to the imperial court in Italy? Had he seen a copy of the actual appeal? – he clearly felt that this appeal was worthy of note, which may elevate its importance and the stature of the individual the Britons appealed to. And as they were looking for military help, it would seem logical that the Britons would appeal to a military commander and the most high-ranking military individuals in the west would be the magistri or the emperor himself.
Two of the most prominent military commanders of the mid-fifth century were comes et magister utriusque militiae, Flavius Aetius, and magister militum per Galliae, Aegidius (Alcock (1971), 107). Either would be a viable military commander of whom to request help: both had been active in Gaul, defending imperial territory from foreign invaders and internal rebels. Aetius would have the edge on Aegidius in terms of resources at hand and reputation (particularly as the ‘defeater’ of Attila the Hun) being the foremost western general of the time. That said, Aegidius would have the edge in terms of geographical proximity, being stationed in northern Gaul.
The identifying of ‘Agitius’ as Aetius is bolstered not only by the pre-eminence of Aetius in the mid-fifth century, but by a specific phrase recorded of this letter by Gildas – ter consuli, ‘thrice consul’. Aegidius does not appear on the consular lists for the central Roman government. It is possible that he set up his own consulship when he was essentially leading a separatist state in his northern Gallic enclave. If he did, it would be in the Britons’ interests to address Aegidius in any consular terms he may have taken for himself when they were seeking his help. However, rather than postulate a Gallic consulship we have no evidence for, it would be prudent to look to men who we have records of having been consul three times in this era.
Multiple consulships for civilians were rare during the fifth century, with only three non-imperial men achieving this – Flavius Constantius (414, 417 and 420), Petronius Maximus (433 and 443) and Flavius Aetius (432, 437 and 446), the first two of whom were elevated to emperor in 421 and 455 respectively.
Constantius III seems a little too far removed from the period seemingly dealt with in the ‘groans’. He would also only have been a ter consuli for mere months, reducing the likelihood of him being the recipient, even before the total disconnect between his name and ‘Agitius’.
Indeed, of all the emperors to reign in the west during the middle period of the fifth century – Valentinian III (425-455; ter consuli from 430-435), Petronius Maximus (455), Avitus (455-456), Majorian (457-461), Libius Severus (461-465) – only Avitus has a name that could conceivably be corrupted to ‘Agitius.’
The man to essentially succeed Aetius as the power behind the throne, the Suevo-Goth Ricimer, also does not have a name that could be mistaken or butchered to appear as ‘Agitio’. A similar period in the east is covered by the reigns of the emperors Theodosius II (408-450), Marcian (450-457) and Leo I (457-474) – only Theodosius and Leo were ter consuli, the former from 409-412 and the latter 466-471. None of them could be conceivably butchered to appear as ‘Agitius’.
Indeed, on the surface, Avitus might seem like a rather attractive candidate. He was a well-connected Gallic senator, having friends in both the Western Roman and Gothic courts, and likely served as both Gallic magister militum and then Gallic praetorian prefect in the late 430s. In these roles, he also had some experience in dealing with barbarian raiders, thwarting Huns near Clermont and Goths at Narbonne. After a period of retirement, he was recalled to serve as magister militum praesentalis under Petronius Maximus in 455, and then during a diplomatic mission, he was proclaimed emperor on 9 July 455 by Theoderic II. For the purposes of the recipient of the ‘groans’, Avitus also served as consul in 456.
As seen with both Aetius and Aegidius, any British appeal to Avitus need not have come during his imperial reign, merely a time where he was in a prominent position. For Avitus, this would have to correspond to either the period 437-440 when he was Gallic magister militum and then Gallic praetorian prefect or to 455-457 when he was first magister militum praesentalis and then emperor. Throughout the 440s, he was in retirement on his private estate near Clermont, before playing some diplomatic role in the events surrounding the building of Aetius’ army to confront the Gallic invasion of Attila the Hun.
All of this would seem to make him a viable candidate to be ‘Agitius’. However, Avitus is only recorded as being consul once. The vagaries of Roman dating and some retained support after his deposition by Ricimer and Majorian could have seen him viewed as having ruled for three years (taking in parts of 455, 456 and 457), but there is no suggestion that he was consul for 457, and given that he died in that year, there is no opportunity for him to have been consul again.
Much like with Aegidius, it would appear that while he seems to have been in a position to receive the ‘gemitus Britannorum’, Avitus’ lack of consulships makes him unlikely to be the recipient.
It might be supposed that if these gemitus Britannorum recorded by Gildas were directed to Aetius and that the island had been facing a prolonged period of disturbance, the Britons may have already appealed to the Gallic magister militum (Agrippinus, 452-458, Avitus in the late 430s or even Aetius himself in the early 430s) and either received negative or no responses. The Britons might even have been encouraged to appeal directly to the top of the imperial military hierarchy.
The recognition of ‘Agitius’ as Aetius rather than Aegidius or Avitus has repercussions for the dating of this ‘groan’, particularly due to the ter consuli phrase. This is because it is known that Aetius held the consulship for the third time in 446 alongside Quintus Aurelius Symmachus (probably a grandson of the famous orator of same name), presenting an earliest point for this ‘groan’. It is well worth noting that in his use of Gildas’ recording of the gemitus britannorum, Bede, Historia ecclesiastica gentis Anglorum I.13 specifically names not only Aetius but also his consular colleague of 446, Symmachus, and seems to connect the letter to this year.
It is sometimes stated that the latest this British plea could have been sent is 454 for Aetius held his fourth consulship in that year and would therefore not be referred to as ter consuli; however, the ‘Flavius Aetius’ to be consul in 454 is likely not the western magister militum, but an eastern comes domesticorum of the same name (Bagnall, Cameron, Schwartz and Worp (1989), 443).
The real reason for 454 being the latest for the gemitus Britannorum is that Aetius was assassinated by Valentinian III on 21 September 454 (Priscus fr.69). The time lag for news of Aetius’ death to reach Britain could push this groan back a few months, possibly into early 455, but not by much.
Had the gemitus Britannorum been addressed to Aegidius, this would have likely pushed the chronology of this event back a decade or so to c.458-465 as Aegidius was not magister militum per Gallias until 458 and then served as something of a quasi-ruler of a Roman enclave centred on Soissons from c.461 until his death in c.464/465.
There has been some attempt to narrow down this 446-455 period for the sending of the plea to Aetius. It could be that Aetius was present in Armorica in c.447-448 fighting the latest revolt of the Bagaudae, with his presence and that of his army attracting a letter sent directly to him (Mummey (2002), 74). However, it is unclear if Aetius was actually present in Armorica on this occasion. He might have campaigned there a decade earlier in 436 with his fellow general Littorius against the Bagaudae of Tibatto, with subsequent disorder perhaps leading to the settling of a group of Alans in northern Gaul to keep an eye on the Armorican Bagaudae (Chron. Gall. sa. 440, 442, 443). It may be this arrangement that saw to the attaching of Aetius’ name to the anti-Bagaudae campaign of 447-448 (Chron. Gall. sa. 448), which seems to have taken place under the Alans of Goar, seemingly ordered to intervene by Aetius rather than led by him in person.
Who were these ‘groaning Britons’?
Another question to ask is ‘who exactly are these Britons appealing to Rome?’ ‘Sub-Roman’ Britain would become a maelstrom of local magnates, invading/raiding barbarian tribes, and gradually the home to Celtic/German petty kings, but was this the case in the first half of the fifth century?
The picture painted by Zosimus in the first years of the decade are far less bleak than that of the gemitus britannorum letter (Mummey (2002), 72). Of course, Zosimus is not without his problems as a source, being detached from the period both chronologically and geographically, before any of his possible agenda is taken into account.
But even with decades of disruption and usurpation eating away at Romanised infrastructure, 350+ years of Roman rule still left Britain a highly-developed society and even without the legions and a sizeable chunk of the Roman administration, any subsequent decay will not have happened overnight.
But with the legions and imperial magistracies seemingly removed, who then was running Britain? It is difficult to completely rule out the continued existence of Roman governors, local commanders or other provincial hierarchies (Snyder (1998) 21), but the ‘Rescript of Honorius’ (if it is about Britain…) sees the emperor place the onus for the defence of Britain on the civitates, likely to be seen as the body of Roman citizens running the cities and towns of Britain (That Honorius does not follow the protocol of addressing his letter to a local governor or high-raking official may be telling of their lack of presence in Britain). This has given rise to calling c.409-455 the ‘British civitates’ period.
But for all the confidence that Zosimus ascribes to this civitates rule, the next forty years saw it faced with increasing ‘post-Roman’ hardship – there is a decline in stone buildings and mosaic production; a contraction of the British pottery industry to a local rather than province-wide trading concern and a significant economic decline, with gold and silver removed by departing legions, exiles and raiding barbarians. If they had not been cut definitively in 409-411, the fragmentation of Roman Gaul will have prevented any still existing conduits of precious metals and payments reaching Britain. Such a combination of stresses will have encouraged the decline of cities and civitates and the rise of powerful individuals.
That this letter was sent at all is surely evidence of the failure of the British civitates to secure peace and prosperity. It may be evidence of a significant divide in mid-fifth century British society – those with local interests vs those of imperial interests. Any such divide could see the letter to ‘Agitius’ presented as “the activity of a pro-imperial party” (Mummey (2002), 73).
Subsequent developments could provide further ammunition for the idea of a divide in the British leadership. By the mid/late 460s, it appears that a certain Riothamus, a Romano-Briton, was leading a British army in northern Gaul in support of the remaining imperial forces there against the advances of the Goths of Euric. Riothamus shared a correspondence with Sidonius Apollinaris and his activities may be mentioned by the likes of Jordanes and Gregory of Tours (There have even been attempts to connect Riothamus to King Arthur).
Was the army of Riothamus made up of British exiles, ejected from the island to take up residence in Armorica, which would become ‘Brittany’? Were they driven out of Britain by another ‘anti-imperial’ or even a ‘pro-Saxon’ faction? Could Riothamus, or men like him, setting himself up as something of a petty king have been part of the reason for the ‘inviting’ of the Saxon ‘foederati’?
It must be said that these ‘exiles’ in Brittany need not be evidence of division; rather of the increasing desperation with Riothamus looking to take refuge within ‘imperial’ territory in the face of the continued erosion of Romanised Britain. Regardless of its circumstances, Riothamus and his men could have taken significant resources, expertise and manpower with them to Armorica, further depleting the British economy.
Whoever this ‘Agitius’ was, when this plea was made to him and who by, it is clear that neither the Roman forces in Gaul or Italy were in any position to render assistance to the Britons against the Pictish, Irish and Germanic raiders - “But they got no help in return.” (Gildas, De Excidio et Conquestu Britanniae 20.1).
What had been Roman Britain was left to fall further into the maelstrom, with power increasingly divesting upon regional strongmen – the ‘petty tyrants’ of Gildas’ day in the mid-sixth century.
Gildas himself and other medieval sources would have it that this failure of Roman imperial forces to render assistance to Britain led the locals – a pseudo-historical Vortigern? – to ‘invite’ the Saxons to the island as foederati to defend against the Irish, Picts and some of those burgeoning petty kings/tyrants (might Riothamus have been one of them, defeated and exiled as a result?).
The actual dating of the start of a Saxon foederati presence in Britain is still contentious, with literature showing some Germanic presence in Britain as early as the third century, while archaeology is increasingly presenting a growing Germanic presence before the so-called Roman withdrawal.
The presence of Germans in Britain before the 440s does not necessarily change the picture dramatically, even if there are some notions to suggest that if the Saxons were good foederati allies, could they have fought with the Britons against the Irish and Picts? The more likely scenario is that either these Saxons were invaders from the very start or they were foederati who the Britons failed to pay or give a vested interest in protecting British territory (such as through the hospitalitas system used by the empire). This in turn may have led to their rebellion and eventual conquest of much of what had been Roman Britain.
Unfortunately, there is not enough surviving material about the period to provide any kind of definitive identification of the barbarians attacking Britain – could Gildas be using a metaphor of barbarian attack to mean the Justinianic Plague? – or the circumstances in which they appeared. However, the ‘groans of the Britons’ seem to provide confirmation that something was happening to Britain in the 440s-450s; something which meant that at least part of the British civitates who may have so confidently enforced their independence, quasi- or full, from the Roman Empire in the first decades of the fifth century were now looking to Rome for aid. And when that aid did not come, a large section of what had been Roman Britain was taken over by local and foreign petty tyrants, with some of the Romano-British population migrating (or exiled) to the Continent.
Bibliography
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Originally posted on the Classical Association in Northern Ireland blog and reposted here with permission.
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