“The city which had taken the whole world was itself taken.”

FOR OVER two millennia, the city of Rome has stood as one of the greatest symbols of power, culture, and civilization in human history. Yet, despite its storied might, Rome has suffered numerous catastrophic defeats at the hands of invaders.

Between 390 BCE and 1527 AD, the Eternal City was sacked eight times, each episode a result of unique political, military, and strategic circumstances. Each left lasting scars on the city and reverberated throughout history.

Here, we take a closer look at each sacking—its causes, the devastation it wrought, and its far-reaching consequences.

390 BC: The First Sacking

By 390 BC Rome was a growing power in central Italy, gradually expanding its sway over neighboring peoples such as the Etruscans and Latins. This rising influence brought the Romans into contact with the Gauls, Celtic tribes who had migrated into northern Italy in search of new lands.

The Gallic invasion was led by Brennus, the chieftain of the Senones, a fierce Gallic tribe. Trouble began when the Senones laid siege to the Etruscan city of Clusium. The Romans, viewing themselves as regional peacekeepers, sent envoys to mediate the conflict but committed a grave diplomatic error. The Roman ambassadors violated protocol by taking up arms against the Senones, enraging Brennus and his warriors. Seeing this as an insult to Gallic honor, Brennus turned his sights on Rome itself.

The decisive confrontation occurred at the Battle of the Allia about 11 miles north of Rome. The Republic, unprepared for the ferocity of the invaders and still unfamiliar with their enemy’s style of warfare, suffered a catastrophic defeat. Panic spread among the Roman soldiers, many of whom fled the battlefield or drowned in the Allia River.

With no resistance left, the Gauls marched into Rome and began a systematic plundering of the city. Homes, temples, and public buildings were looted and set ablaze. Many Romans, including much of the Senate, fled to the fortified Capitoline Hill, where they attempted to hold out against the invaders.

The siege dragged on until the Romans, starving and desperate, agreed to pay a ransom to Brennus to spare the city. The price was reportedly 1,000 pounds of gold. When the Romans protested the Gauls’ method of weighing the gold with tampered scales, Brennus cast his sword onto the scale and declared, “Vae victis!” (“Woe to the vanquished!”). Though the Gauls eventually departed, the damage had been done — Rome was humiliated, and much of the city lay in ruins.

In the aftermath, the Romans were galvanized to rebuild their city and reform their military. The calamity was a formative event, instilling in Rome a deep-seated fear of foreign invasion and a determination to never again suffer such humiliation. Rome would go on to strengthen its fortifications, including building the formidable Servian Wall, and embark on a trajectory that would see it dominate the Italian peninsula and beyond. The legacy of the Gallic sack would haunt Rome for centuries but also serve as a turning point in its rise to greatness.

410: Visigoths

For 800 years, no foreign army would march into the city of Rome. However, by the early 5th century, the Western Roman Empire was in terminal decline. A combination of internal political instability, external invasions, and economic deterioration had hollowed out the empire’s ability to defend itself. The rise of the Visigoths, a Germanic people originally displaced by the Huns, compounded these issues. Led by their king, Alaric I, the Visigoths sought land, autonomy, and recognition from Rome, demands the imperial government repeatedly failed to satisfy.

Alaric’s frustration with the empire’s vacillations culminated in a series of invasions across Italy in the early 5th century. After besieging Rome twice without taking it, Alaric returned in 410 AD determined to claim victory. At the time, Rome was no longer the administrative capital of the empire, but its symbolic importance remained immense. The city had been spared major invasions for centuries, and its status as the Eternal City made it a powerful target.

The Visigoths entered Rome on August 24, 410 AD after either bribing Roman officials to open the city gates or having them opened by slaves sympathetic to their cause. Once inside, Alaric’s forces unleashed three days of plundering. Unlike previous sacks, there was some restraint: the Visigoths, themselves largely Christian, spared churches such as St. Peter’s Basilica and other sacred sites. However, the material and psychological toll on Rome was immense. Wealthy families were stripped of their treasures, public buildings were looted, and Roman citizens were killed or enslaved.

The sacking of 410 was a symbolic earthquake. Rome—once considered an invincible center of the known world—had fallen to a foreign power. The event shocked contemporaries, particularly in the Romanized Christian world. Saint Jerome famously lamented, “The city which had taken the whole world was itself taken.” The sack of 410 marked a turning point, highlighting the empire’s inability to defend its greatest city and fueling the perception that the Western Roman Empire was doomed.

In the aftermath, Alaric led his forces south, intending to invade North Africa, but he died soon after. Though Rome would rebuild and the Western Empire would limp along for a few more decades before its eventual collapse in 476 AD. The fall of Rome to Alaric remains one of the most iconic moments in the decline of the ancient world, a chilling prelude to the final disintegration of the Western Roman Empire.

455: The Vandals

In 455 AD, just 45 years after the Visigoths under Alaric had breached Rome’s defenses, the city fell once again—this time to the Vandals, a Germanic people who had emerged as a dominant power in the Western Mediterranean. Unlike the earlier sack of 410, which was marked by some restraint, the Vandals’ plundering cemented their reputation for ruthless destruction and gave rise to the modern term “vandalism.”

The events leading to the sack were rooted in the empire’s political instability and the rise of the Vandal kingdom. After decades of migration and conflict, the Vandals, led by their ambitious king Genseric, had established themselves in North Africa by 439 AD, capturing Carthage and turning it into the capital of their growing maritime empire. This conquest allowed the Vandals to dominate Mediterranean trade routes and launch naval raids on Roman territories, including Sicily and southern Italy.

The Western Roman Empire, by this time, was crumbling. Emperor Valentinian III, one of its last rulers had been assassinated in March 455. His death threw the empire into turmoil, as competing factions vied for power. The Roman Senate installed a new emperor, Petronius Maximus, but his reign was brief and unpopular.

Maximus attempted to solidify his legitimacy by marrying Valentinian’s widow, Licinia Eudoxia, but this decision alienated both the Roman aristocracy and the imperial family. According to historical accounts, Licinia, infuriated by Maximus’s opportunism and possibly fearing for her safety, sent an appeal for aid to Genseric, inviting him to intervene.

Genseric, ever the opportunist, seized this opening. With a powerful Vandal fleet at his disposal, he sailed across the Mediterranean and arrived outside the walls of Rome in early June 455. Petronius Maximus, caught unprepared, fled the city but was killed by a mob of angry citizens before he could escape. Leaderless and vulnerable, Rome was at the mercy of Genseric and his forces.

Unlike the Visigoths in 410 AD who besieged the city before entering, the Vandals encountered little resistance. Pope Leo I, who had gained fame for persuading Attila the Hun to spare Rome just a few years earlier, rode out to negotiate with Genseric. The pope reportedly implored him to show mercy and refrain from mass slaughter or the burning of the city. Genseric agreed to these terms—there would be no widespread bloodshed—but the Vandals would loot the city of its treasures without constraint.

For two weeks, the Vandals systematically plundered Rome. They stripped public buildings, temples, and homes of their valuables, carrying off gold, silver, and precious works of art. Even sacred Christian relics and items were not spared. Among the most notable spoils were treasures taken from the Temple of Jupiter Optimus Maximus, Rome’s ancient center of worship, which had already survived centuries of change. The Vandals even removed the gilded bronze tiles that adorned the city’s monuments and temples, leaving them bare and stripped of their former grandeur.

The most infamous loss was the seizure of the imperial family. Genseric took Valentinian III’s widow, Licinia Eudoxia, and her two daughters, including Eudocia, as captives. They were transported back to Carthage, where they remained as political hostages. This act symbolized not only Rome’s material defeat but also its political humiliation at the hands of the Vandals.

The aftermath of the sack of 455 AD was devastating. Unlike the Visigothic sack, which had been brief and controlled, the Vandals’ methodical looting exacerbated Rome’s decline. The Western Roman Empire, already on its last legs, lacked the resources and political cohesion to recover from this blow.

For Genseric and his people, the sack of Rome solidified their power and prestige. The spoils of Rome were transported to Carthage, enriching the Vandal kingdom and funding its naval expansion. The Vandals would continue to raid and pillage Mediterranean cities, cementing their legacy as one of the most feared forces of the 5th century.

472: Ricimer and the Roman Civil War

By the 470s, the Western Roman Empire was in its final stages of collapse, plagued by political infighting, weak emperors, and the dominance of military strongmen. One of the most powerful figures of this period was the Germanic general Ricimer, a patrician and kingmaker who ruled through puppet emperors. Ricimer’s influence over the empire sparked internal conflict, as rival factions sought to challenge his authority and install their own leaders. This political chaos culminated in the devastating sack of Rome in 472 AD.

The events began with a power struggle between Ricimer and Emperor Anthemius, whom Ricimer himself had placed on the throne in 467 AD. Anthemius, a capable and ambitious Eastern Roman aristocrat, fell out of favor with Ricimer after failing to reverse the decline of the Western Empire. Tensions between the two escalated into open warfare. By early 472 AD, Ricimer marched on Rome with an army that included Germanic foederati—barbarian allies who often acted as mercenaries for the empire.

The city endured a brutal siege lasting several months. Anthemius, determined to resist, fortified Rome and relied on his dwindling loyalist forces. However, starvation, disease, and the relentless attacks of Ricimer’s troops wore down the city’s defenses. In July 472, Ricimer’s forces breached the walls, and the city descended into chaos. The sack that followed was devastating, even by the standards of Rome’s turbulent 5th century.

Ricimer’s soldiers, many of them barbarian warriors with no ties to Roman heritage or culture, looted homes, palaces, and public buildings with impunity. Churches and pagan temples alike were plundered, their treasures stripped to enrich Ricimer’s war effort and reward his troops. The siege and sack exacerbated Rome’s already dire economic situation, as the city’s wealth was drained, and its infrastructure suffered further damage. The loss of food supplies during the siege left the population starving and desperate, compounding the suffering of Roman citizens.

Anthemius, abandoned and hunted, was eventually captured and executed, either by beheading or starvation, depending on the account. His death marked yet another grim turning point in the empire’s slow disintegration. Ricimer, victorious but weakened, survived his triumph only briefly—he died of illness in August 472, leaving the empire leaderless and in even greater disarray.

546: Totila and the Ostrogoths

By the mid-6th century, the city of Rome was but a shadow of its former self, caught in the crossfire of the Gothic War between the Byzantine Empire under Emperor Justinian I and the Ostrogoths, who had ruled much of Italy since the fall of the Western Roman Empire in 476 AD. Rome, though no longer the political heart of the empire, retained immense symbolic value for both sides. The city’s control was a matter of prestige, and both Byzantines and Goths fought fiercely to claim it.

The Gothic War had left Italy in ruins, its cities besieged, populations displaced, and farmlands devastated. In this context, the Ostrogothic king Totila emerged as a formidable leader. Determined to reclaim his kingdom from the Byzantines, Totila launched a series of successful campaigns across Italy. By 546 AD he turned his attention to Rome, which had already been besieged and recaptured multiple times during the war. Totila’s forces arrived outside the city and began a prolonged siege, cutting off food supplies and isolating the population from aid.

The Byzantine garrison inside the city, commanded by the general Bessas, initially resisted. However, morale deteriorated rapidly as famine and disease spread. According to contemporary accounts, starving Romans resorted to eating grass, dogs, and even leather to survive. Despite the city’s desperate condition, Bessas and his troops allegedly hoarded what little food remained, allowing the civilian population to suffer. This betrayal further demoralized the defenders.

After months of siege, in December 546 AD Totila’s forces entered the city, likely through the betrayal of Roman citizens or deserters who opened the gates. Once inside, Totila unleashed his warriors on the nearly defenseless city. Unlike earlier sacks, where large populations still lived within Rome’s walls, the city was now sparsely populated. Those who had remained—mostly the poor, clergy, and elderly—were subject to violence and plunder. Churches, monasteries, and public buildings were looted, and ancient structures, already in decay, were further damaged.

Some accounts claim Totila intended to raze Rome entirely to deny its symbolic importance to the Byzantines. However, Pope Vigilius and other religious leaders reportedly intervened, pleading with Totila to spare the city from total destruction. Whether out of pragmatism or mercy, he refrained from leveling Rome but left it almost completely deserted. The Ostrogothic army departed shortly after, abandoning a city that was now a ghost town, its streets silent and its grandeur all but extinguished.

Though the Byzantines would eventually retake Rome in 547, the Gothic War continued to devastate Italy for years, leaving the peninsula impoverished and depopulated.

846: Arab Raiders

In 846 AD, Rome faced a new threat not from the Germanic tribes or northern invaders, but from the south: the expanding Arab forces of the Mediterranean. The early 9th century was marked by the aggressive naval expansion of Muslim raiders, primarily from the Aghlabid Emirate, based in North Africa. These seaborne raiders had long targeted coastal cities across the Italian peninsula and had even established bases in southern Italy, including Sicily and the island of Sardinia. By the mid-9th century, they set their sights on the most prestigious target of all: Rome.

At the time, Rome was no longer the political center of the West, with power shifting to other cities under the Carolingian Empire, but it remained the heart of Christendom. The city’s immense religious significance and its treasure-laden churches, including St. Peter’s Basilica, made it an irresistible target for plunder. However, Rome’s defenses were a pale shadow of their former glory, and much of the city outside the ancient Aurelian Walls lay exposed to attack.

In the spring of 846, a large fleet of Arab ships crossed the Tyrrhenian Sea, landing near the mouth of the Tiber River. The raiders, numbering in the thousands, quickly advanced toward the city. While they lacked the manpower to breach Rome’s Aurelian Walls, they turned their attention to the great basilicas outside the walls, which were unfortified and poorly defended. Chief among these were St. Peter’s Basilica and St. Paul’s Outside the Walls, two of the most sacred sites in Christendom.

The Arab forces ransacked the basilicas with impunity. Relics, gold, silver, and treasures donated by centuries of Christian emperors and pilgrims were looted. Sacred artifacts, including reputed relics of saints, were stolen or desecrated. The devastation sent shockwaves throughout the Christian world. Pope Sergius II, who was unable to mount an adequate defense, retreated behind the city walls, helpless to stop the attack.

The raid of 846 underscored Rome’s vulnerability in an era of shifting power and new threats. In response to this humiliation, Pope Leo IV took swift action. Between 848 and 852 AD he ordered the construction of the Leonine Walls, a fortified enclosure around St. Peter’s Basilica and the Vatican Hill. These new defenses, known as the Civitas Leonina (City of Leo), provided a strong bulwark against future raids and marked the beginning of the Vatican as a fortified complex. Additionally, a coalition of Christian naval forces, led by the Byzantines and various Italian city-states, began to confront Arab raiders more aggressively in the Mediterranean.

1084: The Normans

By the 11th century, the political landscape of Italy had grown increasingly fragmented, while the papacy itself was embroiled in the Investiture Controversy, a bitter struggle between the Holy Roman Emperor and the Pope over control of appointments to church offices.

In this volatile environment, the Normans, a formidable warrior people descended from Viking settlers in northern France, rose to prominence in southern Italy under the leadership of the ambitious Robert Guiscard.

In 1084, Pope Gregory VII found himself besieged in Rome by forces loyal to Holy Roman Emperor Henry IV, who sought to depose him in favor of an antipope, Clement III. Gregory appealed to Robert Guiscard for assistance, and the Norman leader, eager to expand his influence, quickly responded. Guiscard marched on Rome with a massive force of Norman knights and Lombard allies, breaking the imperial siege and liberating the beleaguered pope.

However, the rescue of Gregory VII came at a catastrophic cost. Once inside the city, Guiscard’s soldiers turned their attention to looting and pillaging. The Norman troops, hardened by years of conquest in southern Italy, showed no restraint. Homes, churches, and monasteries were stripped of their wealth, and countless Romans were slaughtered or taken captive to be sold into slavery. Even sacred sites were not spared: the ancient Lateran Basilica and other churches were defiled, while fires set during the rampage spread uncontrollably through the city.

Large sections of Rome were reduced to ashes, and the once-great city was left smoldering and depopulated. The Normans, though nominally allies of the pope, treated the city with the same brutality they had displayed elsewhere in their campaigns. The devastation was so extensive that many Roman citizens blamed Gregory VII for inviting the Normans into the city, and popular support for the pope quickly eroded. Gregory himself was forced to flee Rome in the aftermath, dying in exile a year later.

1527: The Imperial Army’s Devastating Assault

By the early 16th century, tensions in Europe had reached a boiling point due to the Italian Wars, a protracted conflict between the major European powers, including France, the Holy Roman Empire, and the Papal States. In 1527, Rome found itself tragically caught in the middle. The conflict erupted after Pope Clement VII, fearing the growing dominance of Emperor Charles V, allied with France in an attempt to curb imperial influence.

Charles V’s imperial troops, composed largely of unpaid Landsknecht mercenaries and soldiers from Spain and Germany, marched south through Italy. Starving, unpaid, and frustrated, the army turned its wrath toward Rome. On May 6, 1527, the imperial forces overwhelmed the city’s defenses and began one of the most brutal sackings in history.

The violence and destruction were unprecedented. Churches were desecrated, sacred relics destroyed, and thousands of citizens slaughtered. Even the city’s cardinals and clergy were not spared, as the mercenaries looted homes, palaces, and monasteries. The soldiers mocked the Catholic Church, using the sacraments and vestments in obscene displays of sacrilege.

Pope Clement VII managed to escape to the fortified Castel Sant’Angelo, where he was besieged for weeks before finally surrendering and paying a hefty ransom for his life. By the time the troops withdrew, Rome had been devastated. Over 20,000 citizens had been killed, and the city was left in ruin.

The 1527 sack marked the end of the Renaissance’s golden age in Rome. The city’s prestige as the center of Christendom was shattered, and its artistic and cultural growth was set back for decades. The event also served as a stark warning of the chaotic political and military forces that were reshaping Europe during the Reformation.