The task of crossing was a difficult one. The Danube there was more than a mile wide, and had been swollen with rains. A large fleet of boats and vessels was provided, but it took many days and nights to transport the mighty host, and numbers of them were swept away and drowned by the rapid current. Probably the whole multitude numbered nearly a million, of whom two hundred thousand were warriors.
Of the conditions made only one was carried out. The children of the Goths were removed, and taken to the distant lands chosen for their residence. But the arms were not given up. The Roman officers were bribed to let the warriors retain their weapons, and in a short time a great army of armed barbarians was encamped on the southern bank of the Danube.
These new subjects of Rome were treated in a way well calculated to convert them into enemies. The officials of Thrace disobeyed the orders of the emperor, sold the Goths the meanest food at extravagant prices, and by their rapacious avarice bitterly irritated them. While this was going on, the Ostrogoths also appeared on the Danube, and solicited permission to cross. Valens, the emperor, refused. He was beginning to fear that he had already too many subjects of that race. But the discontent of the Visigoths had drawn the soldiers from the stream and left it unguarded. The Ostrogoths seized vessels and built rafts. They crossed without opposition. Soon a new and hostile army was encamped upon the territory of the Roman empire.
The discontent of the Visigoths was not long in breaking into open war. They had marched to Marcianopolis, seventy miles from the Danube. Here Lupicinus, one of the governors of Thrace, invited the Gothic chiefs to a splendid entertainment. Their guards remained under arms at the entrance to the palace. But the gates of the city were closely guarded, and the Goths outside were refused the use of a plentiful market, to which they claimed admission as subjects of Rome.
The citizens treated them with insult and derision. The Goths grew angry. Words led to blows. A sword was drawn, and the first blood shed in a long and ruinous war. Lupicinus was told that many of his soldiers had been slain. Heated with wine, he gave orders that they should be revenged by the death of the Gothic guards at the palace gates.
The shouts and groans in the street warned Fritigern, the Gothic king, of his danger. At a word from him his comrades at the banquet drew their swords, forced their way from the palace and through the streets, and, mounting their horses, rode with all speed to their camp, and told their followers what had occurred. Instantly cries of vengeance and warlike shouts arose, war was resolved upon by the chiefs, the banners of the host were displayed, and the sound of the trumpets carried afar the hostile warning.
Lupicinus hastily collected such troops as he could command and advanced against the barbarians; but the Roman ranks were broken and the legions slaughtered, while their guilty leader was forced to fly for his life. "That successful day put an end to the distress of the barbarians and the security of the Romans," says a Gothic historian.
The imprudence of Valens had introduced a nation of warriors into the heart of the empire; the venality of the officials had converted them into enemies; Valens, instead of seeking to remove their causes of hostility, marched with an army against them. We cannot here describe the various conflicts that took place. It will suffice to say that other barbarians crossed the Danube, and that even some of the Huns joined the army of Fritigern. The borders of the empire were effectually broken, and the forest myriads swarmed unchecked into the empire.
On August 9, 378, the Emperor Valens, inspired by ambition and moved by the demands of the ignorant multitude, left the strong walls of Adrianople and marched to attack the Goths, who were encamped twelve miles away. The result was fatal. The Romans, exhausted with their march, suffering from heat and thirst, confused and ill-organized, met with a complete defeat. The emperor was slain on the field or burnt to death in a hut to which he had been carried wounded, hundreds of distinguished officers perished, more than two-thirds of the army were destroyed, and the darkness of the night only saved the rest. Valens had been badly punished for his imprudence and the Romans for their venality.
This signal victory of the Goths was followed by a siege of Adrianople. But the barbarians knew nothing of the art of attacking stone walls, and quickly gave up the impossible task. From Adrianople they marched to Constantinople, but were forced to content themselves with ravaging the suburbs and gazing, with impotent desire, on the city's distant splendor. Then, laden with the rich spoils of the suburbs, they marched southward through Thrace, and spread over the face of a fertile and cultivated country extending as far as the confines of Italy, their course being everywhere marked with massacre, conflagration, and rapine, until some of the fairest regions of the empire were turned almost into a desert. It may be that the numbers of Romans who perished from this invasion equalled those of the Goths whom imprudent compassion had delivered from the Huns.