Jordanes (Greek: Ιορδάνης; fl. c. 550 AD), also written as Jordanis or Jornandes, was a 6th-century Eastern Roman bureaucrat, of Gothic descent, who became a historian later in life.
Volentem me parvo subvectum navigio oram tranquilli litoris stringere et minutos de priscorum, ut quidam ait, stagnis pisciculos legere, in altum, frater Castali, laxari vela compellis relictoque opusculo, quod intra manus habeo, id est, de adbreviatione chronicorum, suades, ut nostris verbis duodecem Senatoris volumina de origine actusque Getarum ab olim et usque nunc per generationes regesque descendentem in uno et hoc parvo libello choartem: dura satis imperia et tamquam ab eo, qui pondus operis huius scire nollit, inposita. Nec illud aspicis, quod tenuis mihi est spiritus ad inplendam eius tam magnificam dicendi tubam: super omne autem pondus, quod nec facultas eorundem librorum nobis datur, quatenus eius sensui inserviamus, sed, ut non mentiar, ad triduanam lectionem dispensatoris eius beneficio libros ipsos antehac relegi. Quorum quamvis verba non recolo, sensus tamen et res actas credo me integre retinere. Ad quos et ex nonnullis historiis Grecis ac Latinis addedi convenientia, initium finemque et plura in medio mea dictione permiscens.
Though it had been my wish to glide in my little boat by the shore of a peaceful coast and, as a certain writer says, to gather little fishes from the pools of the ancients, you, brother Castalius, bid me set my sails toward the deep. You urge me to leave the little work I have in hand, that is, the abbreviation of the Chronicles, and to condense in my own style in this small book the twelve volumes of the Senator on the origin and deeds of the Getae from olden time to the present day, descending through the generations of the kings. Truly a hard command, and imposed by one who seems unwilling to realize the burden of the task. Nor do you note this, that my utterance is too slight to fill so magnificent a trumpet of speech as his. But above every burden is the fact that I have no access to his books that I may follow his thought. Still — and let me lie not — I have in times past read the books a second time by his steward's loan for a three days' reading. The words I recall not, but the sense and the deeds related I think I retain entire. To this I have added fitting matters from some Greek and Latin histories. I have also put in an introduction and a conclusion, and have inserted many things of my own authorship.
Preface; 1–3 (tr. Charles C. Mierow, 1908)
He proceeded from the destruction of his own kindred to the menace of all others.
Post quorum obitum cum Bleda germano Hunnorum successit in regno, et, ut ante expeditionis, quam parabat, par foret, augmentum virium parricidio quaerit, tendens ad discrimen omnium nece suorum. Sed librante iustitia detestabili remedio crescens deformes exitus suae crudelitatis invenit. Bleda enim fratre fraudibus interempto, qui magnae parti regnabat Hunnorum, universum sibi populum adunavit, aliarumque gentium, quas tunc in dicione tenebat, numerositate collecta, primas mundi gentes Romanos Vesegothasque subdere praeoptabat.
After their death [his brothers Octar and Ruas] he succeeded to the throne of the Huns, together with his brother Bleda. In order that he might first be equal to the expedition he was preparing, he sought to increase his strength by murder. Thus he proceeded from the destruction of his own kindred to the menace of all others. But though he increased his power by this shameful means, yet by the balance of justice he received the hideous consequences of his own cruelty. Now when his brother Bleda, who ruled over a great part of the Huns, had been slain by his treachery, Attila united all the people under his own rule. Gathering also a host of the other tribes which he then held under his sway, he sought to subdue the foremost nations of the world — the Romans and the Visigoths.
XXXV; 180–181 (tr. Charles C. Mierow, 1908)
He was a man born into the world to shake the nations, the scourge of all lands, who in some way terrified all mankind by the dreadful rumors noised abroad concerning him.
Vir in concussione gentium natus in mundo, terrarum omnium metus, qui, nescio qua sorte, terrebat cuncta formidabili de se opinione vulgata. Erat namque superbus incessu, huc atque illuc circumferens oculos, ut elati potentia ipso quoque motu corporis appareret; bellorum quidem amator, sed ipse manu temperans, consilio validissimus, supplicantium exorabilis, propitius autem in fide semel susceptis; forma brevis, lato pectore, capite grandiore, minutis oculis, rarus barba, canis aspersus, semo nasu, teter colore, origenis suae signa restituens. Qui quamvis huius esset naturae, ut semper magna confideret, addebat ei tamen confidentia gladius Martis inventus, sacer apud Scytharum reges semper habitus.
He was a man born into the world to shake the nations, the scourge of all lands, who in some way terrified all mankind by the dreadful rumors noised abroad concerning him. He was haughty in his walk, rolling his eyes hither and thither, so that the power of his proud spirit appeared in the movement of his body. He was indeed a lover of war, yet restrained in action, mighty in counsel, gracious to suppliants and lenient to those who were once received into his protection. He was short of stature, with a broad chest and a large head; his eyes were small, his beard thin and sprinkled with gray; and he had a flat nose and a swarthy complexion, showing the evidences of his origin. And though his temper was such that he always had great self-confidence, yet his assurance was increased by finding the sword of Mars, always esteemed sacred among the kings of the Scythians.
"Post victorias tantarum gentium, post orbem, si consistatis, edomitum, ineptum iudicaveram tamquam ignaros rei verbis acuere. Quaerat hoc aut novus ductor aut inexpertus exercitus. Nec mihi fas est aliquid vulgare dicere, nec vobis oportet audire. Quid autem aliud vos quam bellare consuetum? Aut quid viro forti suavius, quam vindicta manu querere? Magnum munus a natura animos ultione satiare. Adgrediamur igitur hostem alacres: audaciores sunt semper, qui inferunt bellum. Adunatas dispicite dissonas gentes: indicium pavoris est societate defendi. En ante impetum nostrum terroribus iam feruntur, excelsa quaerunt, tumulos capiunt et sera paenitudine in campos monitiones efflagitant. Nota vobis sunt quam sint levia Romanorum arma: primo etiam non dico vulnere, sed ipso pulvere gravantur, dum in ordine coeunt et acies testudineque conectunt. Vos confligite perstantibus animis, ut soletis, despicientesque eorum aciem Alanos invadite, in Vesegothas incumbite. Inde nobis cita victoria quaerere, unde se continet bellum. Abscisa autem nervis mox membra relabuntur, nec potest stare corpus, cui ossa subtraxeris. Consurgant animi, furor solitus intumescat. Nunc consilia, Hunni, nunc arma depromite: aut vulneratus quis aduersarii mortem reposcat aut inlaesus hostium clade satietur. Victuros nulla tela conveniunt, morituros et in otio fata praecipitant. Postremo cur fortuna Hunnos tot gentium victores adseret, nisi ad certaminis huius gaudia praeparasset? Quis denique Meotidarum iter maiores nostros aperuit tot saeculis clausum secretum? Quis adhuc inermibus cedere faciebat armatos? Faciem Hunnorum non poterat ferre adunata collectio. Non fallor eventu: hic campus est, quem nobis tot prospera promiserunt. Primus in hoste tela coiciam. si quis potuerit Attila pugnante otio ferre, sepultus est."
Attila sent his men to take the summit of the mountain, but was outstripped by Thorismud and Aetius, who in their effort to gain the top of the hill reached higher ground and through this advantage of position easily routed the Huns as they came up. "No spear shall harm those who are sure to live; and those who are sure to die Fate overtakes even in peace." Now when Attila saw his army was thrown into confusion by this event, he thought it best to encourage them by an extemporaneous address on this wise: "Here you stand, after conquering mighty nations and subduing the world. I therefore think it foolish for me to goad you with words, as though you were men who had not been proved in action. Let a new leader or an untried army resort to that. It is not right for me to say anything common, nor ought you to listen. For what is war but your usual custom? Or what is sweeter for a brave man than to seek revenge with his own hand? It is a right of nature to glut the soul with vengeance. Let us then attack the foe eagerly; for they are ever the bolder who make the attack. Despise this union of discordant races! To defend oneself by alliance is proof of cowardice. See, even before our attack they are smitten with terror. They seek the heights, they seize the hills and, repenting too late, clamor for protection against battle in the open fields. You know how slight a matter the Roman attack is. While they are still gathering in order and forming in one line with locked shields, they are checked, I will not say by the first wound, but even by the dust of battle. Then on to the fray with stout hearts, as is your wont. Despise their battle line. Attack the Alani, smite the Visigoths! Seek swift victory in that spot where the battle rages. For when the sinews are cut the limbs soon relax, nor can a body stand when you have taken away the bones. Let your courage rise and your own fury burst forth! Now show your cunning, Huns, now your deeds of arms! Let the wounded exact in return the death of his foe; let the unwounded revel in slaughter of the enemy. No spear shall harm those who are sure to live; and those who are sure to die Fate overtakes even in peace. And finally, why should Fortune have made the Huns victorious over so many nations, unless it were to prepare them for the joy of this conflict. Who was it revealed to our sires the path through the Maeotian swamp, for so many ages a closed secret? Who, moreover, made armed men yield to you, when you were as yet unarmed? Even a mass of federated nations could not endure the sight of the Huns. I am not deceived in the issue;—here is the field so many victories have promised us. I shall hurl the first spear at the foe. If any can stand at rest while Attila fights, he is a dead man."
XXXVIII–XXXIX; 201–206 (tr. Charles C. Mierow, 1908)
