Were the Huns Responsible for the Fall of the Roman Empire?
Learn the story of Attila and his impact upon the Roman world
In the grand tapestry of history, few names strike as much fear and fascination as the Huns.
Charging out of the eastern steppes like a thunderstorm, they descended upon the Roman world in the fourth and fifth centuries with a ferocity that left cities smoldering and emperors trembling. To many, they were the very embodiment of barbarism — alien, unstoppable, and catastrophic.
But were they truly the architects of Rome’s collapse, or merely opportunistic raiders circling a dying empire?
After all the fall of the Western Roman Empire was not a single event, but a long, painful unraveling that took the better part of a century to come to its final fruition in 476 AD. And the Hunnic Empire did not even survive long enough to witness the downfall of the Western Roman Empire, as the huge empire of Attila began to disintegrate immedietaly after the death of its charismatic King in 453.
In this article, we’ll dig beneath the legend and the propaganda to ask a deeper question: did the Huns destroy Rome, or was Attila the Hun merely a glorified raider.
To understand what role the Huns played in the collapse of the Western Roman Empire we need put three different periods under the microscope. The era spanning from the 370s to 440s, when the Huns did not necessarily threaten the empires directly, but were still able to cause huge chaos by pushing Germanic people into the Roman world. The period between 440 and 453, when the Huns came into collision course with both halves of the Roman Empire directly and Attila led huge invasions into the Balkans, Gaul and Italy. And finally the period that followed the death of Attila, the two decades that saw the Western Empire’s complete disintegration.
The Huns in battle. Image Source:
Peter Johann Nepomuk Geiger, Public Domain, Wikimedia Commons
376-440
Rather ironically, the first signs of the Roman fragility that would culminate in the collapse of the Western Empire a century later were first seen in the east, during the Gothic War of 376–382.
By the 370s, the world beyond Rome had changed as profoundly as the empire itself. Tribal confederations like the Goths, Franks, Alemanni, and Vandals now bordered Roman lands in Europe, while the ancient Parthians had been replaced by the Sassanid Persians in the east. During the chaos of the third century, these new powers inflicted heavy blows—Emperors Decius and Valerian were killed or captured—but under Diocletian and Constantine, the reformed empire reasserted control. This relative stability held under the Constantinian dynasty—until the arrival of the Huns in the 370s shifted the balance of power once again.
Emerging on the steppes of modern-day Russia and Ukraine, the Huns swiftly subjugated local populations. Under mounting pressure, parts of the Tervingi and Greuthungi Goths fled their homelands in 376 and sought asylum within the Roman Empire. Contemporary historian Ammianus Marcellinus recorded that "the multitude that arrived to the banks of the Danube in the summer of 376 numbered several hundred thousand"—a movement that completely overwhelmed local Roman authorities and quickly spiraled out of control.
Before examining the fallout from the Goths' arrival, it’s worth asking: why were the Huns so effective at defeating and displacing the steppe peoples? Again, Ammianus provides a vivid answer:
"[The Huns] enter battle drawn up in wedge-shaped masses . . . And as they are lightly equipped for swift motion, and unexpected in action, they purposely divide suddenly into scattered bands and attack, rushing about in disorder here and there, dealing terrific slaughter . . . They fight from a distance with missiles having sharp bone, instead of their usual points, joined to the shafts with wonderful skill; then they gallop over the intervening spaces and fight hand to hand with swords."
The Huns were horse archers—but with a crucial advantage: their large, asymmetric composite bow, more powerful than those of earlier nomadic raiders. Its increased penetration allowed them to devastate heavily armored Alan cavalry and lightly armed Germanic infantry alike.
Back on the Danube, the Romans were vulnerable. Emperor Valens and much of the eastern field army were occupied with a Sassanid crisis in Armenia. Though the Danube frontier wasn't undefended, the local forces proved insufficient. Gothic envoys were dispatched to Valens in Antioch and returned with imperial consent for the Tervingi to enter the empire—though crucially, the Greuthungi were denied entry.
Yet the sheer number of Gothic refugees quickly overwhelmed the region. Once their own supplies ran out, they were left dependent on profiteering Roman officials—some of whom reportedly sold dog meat in exchange for Gothic children sold into slavery. Resentment soon erupted into violence. The local commander, Lupicinus, mishandled the crisis disastrously—failing to assassinate or at least imprison the Gothic leadership at a banquet and then rashly engaging them in battle with inferior numbers. His army was routed.
The revolt prompted the Greuthungi to cross the Danube and join their kin. With no Roman field army in the Balkans, the countryside was ravaged. Though the Goths lacked siege capabilities and cities remained safe, Roman authority in the region collapsed.
Valens, still tied down in the east, could only send limited reinforcements. His nephew, Western Emperor Gratian, agreed to send support, and a joint Roman force managed to halt the Goths in 377—only to retreat that autumn when new reinforcements arrived for the invaders.
In 378, Valens secured peace with Persia and marched back to the Balkans, bringing at least 15,000 troops—perhaps more. Gratian also prepared to join him, but was delayed by a renewed Alemannic threat across the Rhine. Impatient, Valens confronted the Goths alone at Adrianople—and suffered a crushing defeat. He perished on the field along with two-thirds of his army.
Gratian appointed the experienced general Theodosius to command the east, and he declared himself emperor in early 379. Yet even his newly raised forces were defeated in 380. The following year, Theodosius returned to Constantinople, and Gratian’s generals forced the Goths north of the Haemus Mountains, bringing them to the negotiating table.
The peace of 382 was a compromise. The Goths were allowed to settle within the empire as an autonomous force, in return for pledging future military service to the emperor. They proved their worth twice—in 388 and 394—fighting for Theodosius against western usurpers. But after Theodosius died in 395, the Goths rebelled.
Until 405, the only foreign military presence on Roman soil was Gothic—and confined to the eastern Balkans. That changed rapidly after 405.
Flavius Stilicho, de facto ruler of the Western Empire until 408. Image Source: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Diptych_of_Stilicho.jpg, CC BY-SA 4.0, Carlodell
As noted earlier, the Goths’ flight into the empire in 376 was prompted by the Huns. The Huns' own movements remain murky for the next few decades, though in 395 they launched a massive raid across the Caucasus, suggesting they still resided north of the Black Sea. Later, under Attila, their power base shifted westward to the Hungarian plains. When exactly this migration occurred is unclear. However, several historians suggest that the chaos of the mid-400s may have been triggered by another Hunnic push—prompting new waves of displaced tribes to invade Roman lands. Unlike in 376, they now came not as refugees, but as enemies.
This theory aligns well chronologically, though a lack of sources prevents definitive proof. Still, Roman defensive measures suggest awareness of growing threats: the Danubian fleet was strengthened, and the famous triple walls of Constantinople were constructed during this period.
Back in the west, the first crisis came in 405, when a Gothic army crossed the Alps into northern Italy. General Stilicho, unwilling to risk open battle, called for reinforcements from Gaul and secured an alliance with the Hunnic warlord Uldin. By summer 406, Stilicho had neutralized the threat without a major engagement, incorporating 12,000 of the invaders into the Roman army.
But weakening the Gallic defenses had unintended consequences. In late 406, the legions in Britain rebelled, proclaiming a series of usurpers. The third, Constantine, managed to secure his position.
Even worse than the British usurper was to come, as a massive invasion of Vandals, Alans, and Suevi breached the Rhine frontier in December.
Stilicho was overwhelmed. As Constantine sailed to Gaul, the Gallic army and bureaucracy rallied to his side. Stilicho dispatched his general Sarus to confront the usurper (rather than the invaders), but after initial gains, Sarus was forced to withdraw.
Meanwhile, Stilicho’s position collapsed. In 408, the court official Olympius orchestrated a mutiny in Ticinum, purging the army of Stilicho’s supporters. Though Stilicho still commanded loyalty from the foederati troops, his hesitation to act led to chaos and the Gothic foederati led by Sarus turned on the others, murdering many in their sleep. Shocked, Stilicho fled to Ravenna, where he was captured and executed.
Worse still were the consequences of Stilicho’s demise.
After 402, Stilicho had cultivated an alliance with Alaric, offering him rank and land in return for military service. In 406, Alaric was sent to Epirus to gather Gothic troops for an eastern campaign to pressure Constantinople into surrendering parts of Illyricum—provinces valued less for their wealth than for their manpower. The crisis in Gaul derailed these plans. Alaric remained idle in 407, then moved to the border of Italy in 408, demanding payment from Stilicho. Threatening war in case of a refusal.
According to Zosimus, the Senate and the Emperor were ready for war, but Stilicho advised caution, while he also admitted that Alaric was right as the Gothic leader was acting on Stilicho’s orders in the previous years. The Senate eventually agreed to approve the payment, but after Stilicho’s fall, his successors repudiated the deal. Roman mobs also massacred the families of foederati troops in Italy—prompting mass desertions to Alaric. With a reinforced army, Alaric invaded Italy and besieged Rome three times between 408 and 410, demanding rank and land for his people, but after years of rejection his patience eventually ran out and he sacked the city in 410.
By then, the Western Empire faced invasions on multiple fronts: Alaric’s Goths in Italy, the Vandals, Suevi, and Alans in Gaul and Spain. The central government was powerless.
Under Stilicho’s eventual successor, Flavius Constantius, the empire regained some control. Constantius crushed the usurpers, cornered the Goths into negotiation, and recovered parts of Gaul. But despite his efforts, he could not fully expel the invaders from Spain. His death in 421 ended the fragile unity he brought.
A new round of civil wars followed, lasting until 433, when another strongman—Flavius Aetius—rose to power. But the decade of chaos had allowed the invaders to consolidate their positions. Aetius could only contain their further expansion. Meanwhile, the Vandals slowly seized Roman Africa in the 430s, culminating in their capture of Carthage in 439—stripping the empire of one of its wealthiest provinces, untouched by war until then.
The Romans understood the implications of losing Africa clearly and in 440, a joint eastern-western fleet assembled in Sicily, ready to reclaim Africa. But the fleet never sailed.
A roman envoy visiting the court of Attila the Hun. Image Source: Mór Than, Public Domain, Wikimedia Commons
440-453
Up to this point, the Romans had done little actual fighting against the Huns. Most of their efforts were consumed by wars against Germanic invaders and internal usurpers. In fact, Hunnic mercenaries had at times been useful allies. According to some sources, Emperor Honorius tried to recruit Huns in 409, though that force likely never materialized. The usurper John, however, successfully sent Aetius to Pannonia in 425 to recruit Hunnic troops.
By the time Aetius returned, John was dead—but Aetius used the Hunnic force as leverage to secure command of the Gallic army. In 433, after losing the Battle of Rimini to his rival Boniface, Aetius once again turned to the Huns and returned to Italy with another large force. Boniface had died of wounds from Rimini, leaving his son Sebastianus to take his place. Outmatched by Aetius’s mercenary army, Sebastianus fled to Constantinople.
Aetius would continue to rely on Hunnic mercenaries throughout his campaigns in Gaul, deploying them against both the Visigoths and the Burgundians. In this period, Hunnic auxiliaries were a powerful tool in Aetius’s arsenal—helpful in fighting both rival Romans and hostile barbarians.
But by the 440s, the winds were shifting.
In 440, under their new kings—the brothers Bleda and Attila—the Huns launched a devastating campaign into the Balkans. Unlike previous raiders, they captured several heavily fortified cities, shocking Constantinople. The Eastern Empire panicked. The army and fleet stationed in Sicily were recalled, and the expedition to retake Africa was abruptly canceled.
That abandonment came at a cost. The loss of Africa was a devastating blow to the Western Empire, which was now forced to reach an uneasy accommodation with the Vandals. Estimates vary, but the tax revenue from the African provinces could likely have supported at least 30,000 soldiers—a crippling loss for a state already on the edge.
And this was just the beginning.
Constantinople sued for peace after the early 440s raids and agreed to pay the Huns a heavy subsidy. But as time passed and the Eastern army reasserted control over the Balkans, the government appears to have stopped payments. One reason may have been Hunnic instability: sometime in the mid-440s, Attila had Bleda killed and seized sole control. The Romans may have assumed it would take years for Attila to consolidate his rule.
If so, they were mistaken.
In January 447, a massive earthquake struck Constantinople, damaging the city’s famed triple walls. Attila couldn’t exploit the disaster immediately—it was midwinter—but once spring came, the Huns invaded again.
Confident in his forces, magister militum Arnegisclus offered battle at the Utus River. He was defeated, and the Roman commander was killed. A second Roman army fought near the Gallipoli Peninsula, but again Attila emerged victorious. In a single campaigning season, the Hunnic king destroyed both Eastern field armies, leaving the Balkans defenseless—and he showed no mercy.
According to Thracian saint Hypatius:
The barbarian people of the Huns . . . became so strong that they captured more than a hundred cities and almost brought Constantinople into danger, and most men fled from it. Even the monks wanted to run away to Jerusalem . . . They so devastated Thrace that it will never rise again and be as it was before.
But Theodosius died in 450, and was succeeded by Marcian, who immediately repudiated the treaty. He refused to send Attila any more gold.
This could easily have sparked war, but Attila held back. A possible explanation to understand his actions may have been simple geography. Lacking a navy, he could not attack the wealthy Asian provinces across the Bosporus. Meanwhile, the Balkans had already been pillaged bare. The Hunnic king needed new targets.
Then opportunity arrived—unexpectedly—from the West.
Princess Honoria, sister of Western Emperor Valentinian III, had grown tired of her arranged marriage to an aging senator. She sent a letter to Attila, reportedly enclosing her ring. Though not intended as a marriage proposal, Attila chose to interpret it as one—and demanded half the Western Empire as dowry. The demand was absurd, and the Hunnic King no doubt knew it would be refused. But that made it the perfect pretext for war that he may have decided to launch even before the arrival of the letter.
In 451, Attila invaded Gaul at the head of a massive coalition of Huns and subject tribes. Aetius was initially outmatched and had to call on federated tribes for support. By summer, however, he had assembled a force large enough to confront Attila. As Aetius advanced, Attila became bogged down at Orléans and lifted the siege, retreating before the Roman army.
At the Catalaunian Plains, Attila gave battle. It was, by all accounts, one of the bloodiest battles of the age. Aetius emerged victorious, forcing Attila back to his camp—but chose not to assault it and Attila’s army was allowed to withdraw.
The battle was a setback, but not a decisive one.
In 452, Attila returned—this time invading Italy. He devastated the Po Valley, but withdrew after an outbreak of disease began to ravage his troops. He also received a Roman embassy led by Pope Leo I, who famously negotiated the Hunnic withdrawal. Another reason for the Hunnic withdrawal may have been an Eastern Roman attack across the Danube, against the centre of Attila’s empire.
Whether Attila planned further attacks is unknown. If so, he never got the chance.
In early 453, during the celebration of yet another marriage, Attila died suddenly—bringing to an end the reign of Rome’s most terrifying external enemy for centuries.
454-476
With the death of Attila, the Hunnic Empire rapidly began to unravel. Subject tribes seized the moment to rebel, and the Huns suffered a crushing defeat at the Battle of Nedao, where one of Attila’s sons, Ellac, was killed. The empire wasn’t immediately destroyed—Attila’s other son, Dengezich, continued to lead raids against the Eastern Romans as late as 469. But unlike his famous father, Dengezich was defeated, captured, and executed.
The Huns, once the terror of both Eastern and Western Roman Empires, now faded into obscurity. After Attila, they played little direct role in the final collapse of the West.
Ironically, though, Attila’s own death may have sealed the fate of his greatest rival: Flavius Aetius.
De facto ruler of the Western Empire since 433, Aetius had become indispensable during the crisis Attila posed. But with the Hunnic threat gone, Emperor Valentinian III saw an opportunity to rid himself of his overmighty general. In 454, Valentinian personally murdered Aetius in the middle of a meeting.
If the emperor thought he could rule alone, he was mistaken. When he denied a promotion to the powerful senator Petronius Maximus, Maximus orchestrated Valentinian’s assassination.
But Petronius Maximus fared no better. As the Vandals approached Rome, he attempted to flee the city and was killed by a mob just three months into his reign.
From that point on, the Western Empire rarely saw competent leadership. Apart from Majorian (457–461), no strong emperor emerged. Most were puppets of powerful generals like Ricimer, or else failed to build the necessary coalitions to survive, as in the cases of Anthemius and Julius Nepos.
Meanwhile, the provinces slipped away. The central government in Italy no longer commanded loyalty in Gaul, Hispania, or Illyria. By the 470s, all that remained of the Western Roman Empire was Italy itself.
And even that wouldn’t last.
In 476, the foederati—Germanic troops settled in Italy—revolted against the last imperial regime. Their leader, Odoacer, deposed the young emperor Romulus Augustulus and sent the imperial regalia to Constantinople, bringing the formal end of the Western Roman Empire.
To answer the question from the title: the Huns were not solely responsible for the fall of the Western Roman Empire, but they contributed as much as any single external force.
As we’ve seen, Hunnic influence unfolded in multiple phases—and went far beyond direct confrontation. In the late fourth century, it was the arrival of the Huns on the Pontic Steppe that pushed the Tervingi and Greuthungi Goths across the Danube and into Roman territory, triggering the Gothic War of 376–382. If the theory that the Huns’ westward migration caused further displacements in the early fifth century is correct, they may have sparked yet another wave of invasions during the mid-400s.
For much of this period, the Huns inflicted little direct damage on either Eastern or Western Rome. But by displacing other tribes and pushing them into the empire, they still managed to destabilize the Roman frontier and undermine imperial authority, forcing the Romans to fight prolonged wars inside their own provinces. The eventual failure to expel these groups meant either the loss of land or its concession to tribal kings—territory that no longer paid taxes to the imperial center.
The period of greatest Hunnic devastation came in the 440s and 450s, when, under Attila, the Huns ravaged the Balkans, northern Italy, and Gaul. Yet Attila never pursued permanent conquest. His goals seem to have been plunder, tribute, and leverage—not building a new empire in the Roman West.
After his death, the Hunnic confederation collapsed rapidly, and the Huns themselves ceased to be a major force in Roman affairs. Ironically, Attila’s passing also removed the one threat that had held the Western Roman regime together, setting the stage for the murder of Aetius, the assassination of Valentinian III, and a domino effect of instability.
In the end, Rome fell not because of the Huns, but because of its own internal disintegration. The imperial system of the mid-fifth century failed to produce leaders with the authority and legitimacy to unite the remaining provinces, and as power fractured, Germanic kings and ambitious generals carved up the empire’s remnants.
Source
Heather, Peter (2005). The Fall of the Roman Empire: A New History of Rome and the Barbarians. Oxford University Press.