When God Spoke in a Wind: the Battle of the Frigidus March 23, 2017
Author: Beach Combing | in : Ancient , trackback
The Battle of the Frigidus 394 was one of the most important clashes as the Western Roman Empire was winding down: Honorius, the loss of Britain, Gerontius in Spain all just above the horizon… 5 and 6 September of that year, two enormous armies, perhaps as many as 150,000 men, took to the field under, on the one side, Eugenius western Roman Emperor and on the other Theodosius the eastern Roman Emperor, in what is today Slovenia. The battle was fought over two days. On the first day Eugenius bested Theodosius and on the second Theodosius routed Eugenius. And how did the eastern Emperor get around Eugenius? Well, tradition quickly established that a divine wind had blown up against the enemy and led to the rapid surrender of the ‘westerners’: Eugenius was foolish enough to survive the battle and was that very day dispatched after being dragged before Theodosius.
The wind at the Frigidus is a particularly notable example of weather magic in battle and an unusually well attested one: though as we will shortly see a number of scholars have rubbished the claim. Our key source is Ambrose of Milan: key because he was the nearest and the earliest writer to describe the event. Ambrose wrote about the battle already in September as soon as the news arrived with no reference to the wind: he sent a letter to Theodosius. In October or November he writes again to the Emperor referring to ‘ancient miracles’ in the battle (uetustis miraculis) and an ‘outpouring of heavenly grace’ (caelestis gratiae effusione). February 395, at Theodosius’ funeral Ambrose describes the Emperor jumping off his horse and asking for help from God in the middle of the battle. Then in March of that year Ambrose gives us a direct description of the wind:
For spears often rebound on those who have thrown them. This happened in the recent war, when faithless and sacrilegious men attacked a man trusting in the Lord, and tried to snatch his throne away from him, making dire threats of persecuting the churches of the Lord, so that suddenly a wind arose which tore their shields from the hands of the faithless and turned all their spears and missiles back on the army of the sinner.
This has been universally and almost certainly correctly understood as a reference to the Frigidus. Apparently Ambrose in nearby Milan had heard references to a miraculous wind that had decided or helped decide the conflict. This corresponds to the well known Bora wind in the Vipava valley, where the battle probably took place: it is a particularly strong gale which rushes down from the peaks and which certainly would have made an impression on men fighting for their lives, especially as most soldiers there did not know the area.
As noted above some scholars have rubbished the idea of a wind, though here we have Ambrose just six months after the battle describing it. What are the problems with this ‘miraculous’ gale? Well, put simply the wind has got tied up with a larger debate over whether the Frigidus was just some internecine strife between Romans or a crusade by a Christian army led by Theodosius against a pagan army led by Eugenius. Alan Cameron has argued very forcefully that this was not a Christian vs pagan affair and he is certainly right. However, Alan, who lacks a sense of fun, seems determined to get rid of the divine wind, too. Soldiers, though, are some of the most superstitious people imaginable, along with sailors and miners and others in dangerous professions and they do not need a crusade to read events in a supernatural way. So what are the arguments against? (This from The Last Pagans of Rome)
First, AC states that surely if the wind had been a big deal then Ambrose would have mentioned it in his earlier writings on the battle. Well, the easy answer here is that in his first letter Ambrose had heard nothing but news of a welcome victory. In his second letter he did allude to the wind with his ‘miracles’. In the funeral oration he does not mention the wind, but he does mention the moment that Theodosius asked for aid: which comes before the wind in other accounts. Perhaps he let his audience fill in the gaps? Then, of course, in the fourth account he gives a straightforward description.
Second, Alan doesn’t like the idea of spears and missiles sailing back towards those who had fired them: ‘sheer fantasy’. Perhaps we should arrange an experiment but certainly a strong wind would make missiles fall short and if some spears or arrows had been thrown from some way behind the vanguard they may even have been blown backwards? In any case, do we really need to read Ambrose so literally? Note, though, that even if Ambrose does not mention this, the missiles of the easterners presumably, in the case of a violent wind, travelled farther and quicker too towards the foe.
Third, AC notes that the Bora is accompanied by heavy rain and no one mentions that! Perhaps this once there was not rain, or perhaps just perhaps, the soldiers just had other things on their mind… Enjoy this video of a genuine Bora from the same general area today.
Beach doesn’t believe that the ‘God of our fathers’ lifted a wind on behalf of Tweedle Dee against Tweedle Dum. But he is convinced that soldiers in the battle interpreted a chance local meteorological phenomenon as supernatural intervention: and this was a phenomenon that, unlike a cross in the sky, say, could only blow in favour of one army. Whether or not it made a difference on the day, it was soon believed to have made a difference: think the Angels of Mon. Other views: drbeachcombing At yahoo DOT com
As an afterthought it is interesting how quickly AC’s view of the battle from 2011 (and actually a rather distorted version) has made its way onto Wikipedia. Anyone would think that the modern world doesn’t like miracles…
The great Leif, 30 mar 2017: There is a curious parallel to the Divine intervention at the Battle of Frigidus, which is found in the medieval Saga of the Jomsvikings. It concerns the naval Battle of Hjörungavágr, circa 986, near the island of Hareidlandet in Møre og Romsdal, Norway, and the plot is nearly identical: the battle has two phases, the loser of the first seeks supernatural intervention, and a storm turns the battle decisively in the latter phase.
In the battle, the Norwegian Jarls of Lade, led by Hákon Sigurðarson, face the Jomsvikings, an order of brigands who were based in the Baltic and lead by Sigvaldi Strut-Haraldsson. Both sides were pagan.
The following from
Blake, NF (translator). The Saga of the Jomsvikings.
London: Thomas Nelson & sons. 1962:
“The earl went ashore on Prímsignd and went away into a wood. He knelt down facing the north and prayed. In his prayers he called upon his protector Thorgerör Holgabruthr. But being angry she would not hear his prayers. She rejected all the offers of great sacrifices which he made, and Hákon thought things were looking very black. It came to his offering her a human sacrifice which she likewise rejected. Finally he offered her his seven-year-old son called Erlingr, and she accepted him. The earl delivered up the boy to his thrall Skopti, who proceeded to kill him.
“After that the earl went back to his ships and encouraged his men anew ‘and I know now for certain that we shall be victorious. Go forward more bravely in the knowledge that I have invoked the two sisters Thorgerör and Irpa for our victory.’ The earl went aboard his ship and they made ready again. Afterwards they attacked and fierce fighting broke out once more. And thereupon clouds began to gather in the north and, as the day drew on, they soon covered the whole sky. This was followed by lightning and thunder, accompanied by a violent hailstorm. The Jomsvikings had to fight against the storm and the hailstorm was so fierce that men could hardly keep on their feet. Many had taken off their clothes earlier because of the heat, but now it began to freeze. But they fought the battle fearlessly. Though the Jomsvikings hurled stones or weapons or shot spears, the storm brought it all back on themselves together with their opponents’ weapons.
“Hávarthr the hewer was the first to see Thorgerör among Hákon’s men, but many others endowed with second sight saw her, too. When the hail let up a little, they saw that an arrow flew from every finger of the witch and each one found its mark. They told this to Sigvaldi. And he said: ‘I don’t think that we are fighting against men alone, but yet everyone must fight as well as he can.’ When the hailstorm slackened somewhat, Earl Haakon called on Thorgerör a second time reminding her how much he had sacrificed to her. Then the hailstorm began a second time though much harder and fiercer than before. As soon as the storm began Hávarthr the hewer saw that there were then two women on the earl’s ship both doing the same thing. Then Sigvaldi said: ‘Now I’ll flee and do so all my men. We didn’t swear any vows to fight against witches. It is now worse than it was before as there are two of them.’ Sigvaldi moved his ship back out of the line and called on Bui and Vagn to flee. Vagn said that he was the most despicable of men to flee.”
One minor objection to this translation– the use of the word ‘witches’ in the next to last sentence. In the Icelandic the word is ‘troll’, which in the middle ages referred to a kind of supernatural being closely associated with black magic. Medieval troll were demigods, a kind of (usually) malevolent fairy– who had little in common with their stupid, lumbering nineteenth century descendants.
Bruce T. 30 Mar 2017: That footage of the Bora winds is very interesting. The area I live in has similar terrain to Vipava. Occasionally when fast moving fronts blow through we get powerful “downburst” winds of the type the video shows. It comes in a straight line, much like it’s derracho cousin but it’s propagated over a much short distance, tens of miles or less while the derracho can travel for hundreds of miles. You can see them coming, especially in a valley like the one at Vipava where the views are long. If the Bora wind happened the men on the battlefield would have seen it coming for miles, a long line of towering black clouds stretching across the sky. I’ve been caught out in a couple of the same here, it’s an awesome sight to behold, and frightening as it bears done on you. If you’ve got no place to shelter, all you can do is hunker down flat on the ground or in a ditch and hope for the best. They generally last about 15-20 minutes, but they rip the countryside where they pass. Any man fool enough that day not to drop his shield and lay on it would have either had it ripped from his hands by the wind, or been bowled over and dragged until he let go. Construction crews that try to get few more boards or plywood down racing the things have pulled off roofs to their deaths by the wind load as it provides enough lift take them off the roof. A shield with a concave side? You’re not staying on your feet. Downburst winds are often mistaken for tornado activity, especially in valleys where they can become concentrated. Often there is no rain or little rain because the storm front that generates it is moving so quickly. And they’re generally warm weather events, but not always. Early September would be prime season. I’m frankly surprised that both sides didn’t run like Hell when they saw it coming? My guess is they likely did and the side that had the most equipment left after the thing blew through won the day. Or perhaps the Eastern Emperor’s troops being a bit more familiar with the area and knowing what was coming decided it was smarter to flee than fight? Ambrose was a bit of full of it when it came to miracles. A bird misses his miter and hits the one of a rival bishop standing next to him? It’s a miracle!
