10 horrors being unleashed upon ancient towns as the Assyrian war machine rolled in—nearly three millennia ago a little‑known empire thundered across the Middle East, razing cities, tormenting survivors, and spreading dread like wildfire. This was Assyria, the first state to build its entire identity around military might and to wield terror as a strategic weapon.

10 An Enemy That Lived At War

Every free‑born Assyrian, from pauper to aristocrat, was conscripted into the army. In effect, Assyria invented the modern draft, obliging every male citizen to pick up a spear, regardless of wealth or status.

The service ran on a three‑year rotation. Year one was spent constructing roads, bridges, and monumental projects that bolstered the empire’s infrastructure. Year two thrust the soldiers into the battlefield, brandishing weapons across hostile lands. Year three granted a brief respite to reunite with families before the cycle began anew.

The result? A relentless, battle‑hardened legion that could flood any gate with sheer numbers and ferocity. When the Assyrian host appeared on your horizon, the men at the walls were not just soldiers—they were seasoned warriors, countless in number, and utterly terrifying.

10 Horrors Being: The Relentless War Machine

9 Psychological Terror

The Assyrians were masters of psychological warfare, carving brutal scenes onto clay tablets that traveled ahead of their armies. These vivid depictions showed victims being skinned alive, blinded, or impaled on sharp stakes, serving as grim advertisements of the fate awaiting any resistant city.

One particularly vicious king, Ashurnasirpal II, boasted on his tablets: “I flayed many right through my land and draped their skins over the walls. I burned their adolescent boys and girls… A pillar of heads I erected in front of the city.” Such chilling proclamations were deliberately spread to sow panic before the first footstep of an Assyrian chariot crossed the horizon.

By the time the army reached the city walls, these terrifying stories had already seeped into the populace’s collective imagination. Every onlooker knew that, compared with the gruesome fate the Assyrians promised, a swift death might actually seem merciful.

8 A Chance To Surrender

Before the clash began, the Assyrians often offered a grimly worded chance to surrender. An envoy would ride up to the city’s ramparts, his voice echoing over the terrified crowd, promising life and liberty if the inhabitants bowed and paid tribute.

“Make peace with me and come out to me!” the envoy shouted. “Then each of you will eat fruit from your own vine and fig tree and drink water from your own cistern.” He warned, however, that refusal meant “you will have to eat your own excrement and drink your own urine.”

Many city‑states chose the safer route, handing over tribute to avoid annihilation. Others, like the king of Urartu, preferred suicide over subjugation, stabbing himself in the chest as the Assyrian host approached. Some even pre‑emptively sent gifts, surrendering before any envoy could appear, simply to keep the dreaded army at bay.

7 Advanced Siege Weapons

Siegecraft in the ancient world was primitive at best—most armies relied on ramming a massive log against a gate while archers peppered the attackers from above. The Assyrians, however, revolutionized siege warfare with the invention of the battering ram, a massive engine on wheels that could crush stone walls with terrifying efficiency.

The device featured an iron‑capped ram swinging from sturdy chains, delivering bone‑shattering blows to fortifications. Inside the engine, operators were shielded by wooden plates draped in damp animal skins, a clever defense against the flaming arrows hurled from the battlements above. This combination of brute force and protective engineering made Assyrian sieges virtually unstoppable for their era.

6 The Complete Obliteration Of Cities

Sometimes the Assyrian onslaught didn’t stop at slaughter; it culminated in total erasure. When King Sennacherib turned his gaze toward Babylon, he vowed to obliterate it entirely, leaving behind a chilling proclamation of total destruction.

“The city and its houses, from its foundations to its top, I destroyed, I devastated, I burned with fire,” he declared. “Through the midst of that city I dug canals, I flooded its site with water, and the very foundations thereof I destroyed. I made its destruction more complete than that by a flood… In days to come the site of that city, and its temples and gods, might not be remembered; I completely blotted it out with floods of water and made it like a meadow.”

5 The Torture Of The Survivors

One Assyrian monarch recorded sparing certain captives—but only after they grovelingly begged for mercy. “The nobles and elders of the city came out to me to save their lives,” he wrote. “They seized my feet and said, ‘If it pleases you, kill! If it pleases you, spare! If it pleases you, do what you will!’”

More often, surviving men faced the very horrors the Assyrians had displayed on their tablets: skins ripped from bodies, noses and ears sliced off, and countless other gruesome torments. The cruelty was not merely physical; it was designed to break spirits as well as bodies.

Some kings even turned the macabre into a twisted spectacle. Esarhaddon ordered noblemen to wear necklaces fashioned from the severed heads of their own kings, proclaiming, “I hung the heads of the kings upon the shoulders of their nobles, and with singing and music I paraded.” The spectacle served as a terrifying reminder of the price of defiance.

4 Lives Of Slavery

Assyrian reliefs depict a grim procession of enslaved peoples, chained to massive stones they were forced to drag like beasts of burden. These stones were destined for the construction of palaces and monumental wonders, and the laborers received no respite; overseers stood ready to lash any who lagged.

Women suffered even harsher fates. After wars, they and their children were stripped of dignity, often forced to march naked, humiliated before being sold into servitude. In one recorded atrocity, a king ordered women to lift their skirts over their heads and wander blindly, a grotesque display meant to crush any remaining sense of self‑respect.

3 The Resettlement Policy

Assyria’s power rested in part on a ruthless resettlement strategy that uprooted entire families and scattered them across the empire. Captured experts and artisans were shipped to the heart of Assyria, where they were compelled to build palaces, temples, and other marvels—sometimes alongside their own kin, sometimes far from home.

Even the fiercest opponents occasionally received a sliver of mercy. Some defeated commanders were sent to a ruined outpost on the empire’s edge, tasked with rebuilding it as a form of redemption.

The remainder of the conquered populace was dispersed throughout the kingdom, living among strangers to prevent any unified rebellion. This deliberate mixing of peoples ensured that no single ethnic group could easily rally against Assyrian rule.

2 A Brutal Code Of Law

Assyrian law was a ledger of terror, prescribing dismemberment or death for a litany of offenses. A man who dared kiss another’s wife faced a swift axe to his lower lip. Homosexual acts were met with the decree, “they shall turn him into a eunuch.” Adultery earned a death sentence without exception.

Some crimes invited particularly savage retribution. Men were granted the right to murder adulterous wives, while murderers themselves were handed over to the victim’s family, who could exact any vengeance they desired.

Even though the populace might have recoiled at the brutality, the statutes left no room for hesitation: “In the case of very crime for which there is penalty of the cutting‑off of ear or nose, as it is written it shall be carried out.” The law’s cold precision reinforced the empire’s iron grip.

1 Post‑Traumatic Stress

The shadow of Assyrian terror loomed over both the conquered and the conquerors. Soldiers of the empire reported haunting symptoms that modern psychologists identify as post‑traumatic stress: vivid hallucinations of ghosts—spirits of those they had slain—whispering and wailing in the night.

Professor Jamie Hacker Hughes notes, “They described hearing and seeing ghosts talking to them, who would be the ghosts of people they’d killed in battle. That’s exactly the experience of modern‑day soldiers who’ve been involved in close hand‑to‑hand combat.” The psychological toll was as severe as the physical carnage.

Assyrian campaigns left the warriors riddled with guilt and dread. After the mandated year of warfare ended and they returned home, many lived haunted by the specters of the countless victims they had inflicted terror upon, a lingering nightmare that never fully faded.

There’s a popular myth that Britain has only been successfully invaded three times—by the Romans, the Saxons and the Normans. (Some even argue a fourth, counting the Nazi occupation of Guernsey during World II.) In reality, the island has faced many more incursions. Below we count down the 10 times britain was invaded, each a bold episode that left its mark on history.

10 Times Britain: A Quick Overview

10 The Roman Invasion

The Roman legions first set foot on Kent’s coast in AD 43, marking the start of a conquest that would stretch until AD 84 when Agricola sealed the final victory. Six emperors, nine major campaigns and four decades of grinding warfare were needed before England and Wales were fully under Roman control, with two legions permanently stationed until the empire’s collapse. Indigenous resistance was fierce; after Julius Frontinus pacified Wales in AD 76, Agricola had to reconquer the north in AD 78 because the tribes had rebelled and reclaimed independence.

Throughout most of the occupation, the native peoples lived alongside the Romans, often integrated through diplomacy. The Catuvellauni were granted Roman citizenship when their capital earned municipium status, even helping rebuild Hadrian’s Wall in the early third century. Likewise, the Corieltauvi appeared to be allies: their capital Ratae fell in AD 44, yet their kings continued to mint coins for years afterward, suggesting a degree of autonomy. However, when relations soured—most famously when the Iceni and Trinovantes united—they razed the three largest Roman towns, including the provincial capital.

Despite periodic uprisings, the Roman conquest proved durable, ushering in more than three centuries of Roman rule that fundamentally reshaped British culture, law, architecture and infrastructure for generations to come.

9 The Carausian Revolt

By the late third century, Roman authority across the island was waning, and Saxon pirates roamed the coasts. In this chaos, Carausius, commander of the Roman fleet stationed in Britain, proved a capable defender and won the admiration of locals. When Rome ordered his execution—allegedly because he was siphoning loot from captured pirates—he defied the order, proclaimed himself emperor, and ruled an independent Britain for ten years, seven of them under his own banner.

He cultivated a populist image, embossing his coins with slogans like “the golden age is back” and styling himself as the “restorer of Britain.” Evidence of his wide‑reaching support includes a milestone bearing his name found as far north as Cumbria. However, his financial adviser Allectus grew ambitious, arranged Carausius’s assassination in 293, and seized power.

Rome struck back in 296, dispatching two forces—one led by the praetorian prefect Asclepiodotus, the other by the emperor himself—setting sail from the Seine and Boulogne respectively. While exact landing sites remain unclear, the twin assaults likely aimed to outflank Allectus. Asclepiodotus’s troops eventually defeated Allectus, causing rebel support to collapse. The Romans reclaimed Britain, even burning down the basilica in London to erase the brief independent regime, and later reorganised the province into five smaller units under Diocletian’s reforms to prevent any future secession.

8 The Great Heathen Army

From 865 onward, a massive Viking coalition known as the Great Heathen Army swept across Anglo‑Saxon England, carving out dominion over East Anglia and southern Northumbria. Their relentless raids lasted thirteen years, leaving only the kingdom of Wessex capable of mounting an organized defence by 877.

The turning point arrived when King Alfred the Great rallied his forces at the Battle of Edington, forcing the Vikings to sue for peace. The resulting Treaty of Wedmore compelled the Viking leader Guthrum to convert to Christianity, adopt an Anglo‑Saxon name, and become Alfred’s godson. In exchange, a clear boundary—largely following the ancient Roman road Watling Street—was drawn between Saxon and Viking territories.

This Viking‑controlled region, later dubbed the Danelaw, persisted for nearly a century, leaving an indelible linguistic legacy evident in the abundance of Norse place‑names across northeastern England. The Danelaw finally dissolved when the last Viking king of York, Eric Bloodaxe, died in 954, ending the era of sustained Norse rule.

7 The Norman Conquest

The Viking presence indirectly set the stage for William of Normandy’s 1066 invasion. After defeating Harald Hardrada of Norway at the Battle of Stamford Bridge, King Harold Godwinson hurried south, only to meet William’s forces at Hastings. The ensuing battle, immortalised in the Bayeux Tapestry, ended with Harold’s death—traditionally (though likely apocryphally) attributed to an arrow striking his eye.

With his rivals eliminated, William secured his legal claim to the English throne, but his rule remained precarious, beset by recurring rebellions over the next six years. To cement his authority, William introduced the feudal system, erected a network of stone castles, and commissioned the Domesday Book—a comprehensive survey of landholdings and resources across England.

These sweeping reforms reshaped medieval English society, establishing a hierarchical order that persisted until the mid‑17th century, when the monarchy was finally abolished in 1660. The Norman Conquest thus stands as a pivotal moment that irrevocably altered England’s political, cultural and architectural landscape.

6 Matilda and Henry’s Invasion

When King Henry I died in 1135, his daughter Matilda—also known as Empress Maud—was his designated heir. Yet her cousin Stephen quickly garnered the backing of powerful barons and seized the crown, igniting a protracted civil war known as the Anarchy that lasted fifteen years.

Matilda, supported by her half‑brother Robert of Gloucester, managed early successes, even being proclaimed “Lady of the English” in Winchester in 1141. However, her reputation suffered due to perceived arrogance and heavy‑handed demands for money, leading to her expulsion from London before a formal coronation could occur. By 1148 she had retreated to Normandy, leaving the conflict unresolved.

The stalemate finally broke when Matilda’s son Henry, already possessing extensive lands in France, launched his own campaign in January 1153. After a series of maneuvers—including a standoff on the River Avon and a brief siege of Wallingford—both sides grew weary of fighting. Stephen agreed to a truce, effectively naming Henry his heir, and died in 1154. Henry ascended the throne as Henry II, ending the Anarchy and ushering in a new Plantagenet dynasty that would rule for the next thirty‑five years.

5 Isabella and Mortimer’s Invasion

Queen consort Isabella of France initially enjoyed a conventional marriage to King Edward II, but tensions escalated when Edward dispatched her to France on a diplomatic mission in 1325. Refusing to return, Isabella found refuge with her brother, the French king, and soon aligned with Roger de Mortimer, a disgraced English noble who despised Edward’s favourites, the Despensers.

In September 1326, Isabella and Mortimer landed unopposed in Suffolk with an army raised in Hainault. Their arrival sparked a swift shift in loyalties; many English lords abandoned Edward, and the king’s attempts to muster a defense in London faltered. Isabella’s forces pursued the fleeing monarch into Wales, where he was captured near Caerphilly and Neath in November, merely two months after the invasion began.

Edward was executed, the Despensers were beheaded, and Isabella and Mortimer effectively seized control of the kingdom, marking a dramatic and brief episode of foreign‑backed intervention that reshaped the English monarchy.

4 Edward IV’s Invasion

During the Wars of the Roses, Edward IV of the House of York secured the throne in 1461 after defeating the Lancastrians, largely thanks to the support of Richard Neville, the Earl of Warwick. However, Edward’s marriage to Elizabeth Woodville—chosen without Warwick’s input—strained their alliance, prompting Warwick to switch sides and, backed by France, launch an invasion of England in 1470.

Warwick’s forces swiftly captured London and declared Edward a traitor, forcing the king to flee. Yet Edward found refuge with the Duke of Burgundy, who supplied him with troops and resources. Together with his brother, the future Richard III, Edward returned to the north, consolidating Yorkist support in Yorkshire under the pretext of reclaiming the Duchy.

With popular backing, Edward marched south, defeating Warwick at the Battle of Barnet and later crushing the Lancastrian army led by Queen Margaret at the Battle of Tewkesbury in 1471. The decisive victories eliminated most Lancastrian leadership, cementing Edward’s reign until his death in 1483.

3 The Raid on Mount’s Bay

On 23 July 1595, a modest Spanish expedition of roughly 400 soldiers touched down on Cornwall’s coast, a stark embarrassment for a nation that prided itself on naval supremacy after defeating the Spanish Armada seven years earlier. The invaders bombarded Mousehole from the sea, then marched inland, torching the village of Paul before reaching Mount’s Bay and razing Newlyn.

Local militia, numbering about 500, attempted to block the Spaniards at the beach near Penzance. Facing naval fire and the prospect of being outflanked, the militia fled, allowing the Spanish to sack Penzance, destroy around 400 houses, and even hold an open‑air Mass, with the commander promising to erect a church once England fell.

Although the English forces later regrouped and grew in size, the Spanish had already achieved their objectives and departed on 4 August without casualties. The raid rattled Queen Elizabeth, prompting a nationwide defensive survey, militia retraining, and fortification of western ports. A larger Spanish armada would loom two years later, but a fortuitous storm spared England from a potentially catastrophic assault.

2 The Raid on the Medway

In June 1667, a formidable Dutch fleet sailed up the River Medway, targeting England’s principal naval dockyard at Chatham. The attackers captured the fort at Sheerness, overcame a massive iron chain that barred further passage, and seized thirteen English vessels, including the prized HMS King Charles and the newly built HMS Unity.

The Dutch neutralised the river’s defensive scuttled ships—though a mis‑placed scuttling left a gap they exploited—and proceeded to the flagship Royal Charles. After boarding the flagship, they burned the remaining visible hulls of other scuttled ships to prevent salvage. The Dutch fleet then withdrew, taking their prizes with them; the stern of the Royal Charles now rests on display at Amsterdam’s Rijksmuseum.

The shock of the Medway raid triggered panic in London, with wealthy citizens fleeing the capital and the government scrambling for peace. Within a month, the Treaty of Breda was signed, ending hostilities. The raid remains England’s most humiliating naval defeat, reshaping maritime policy for decades.

1 The Glorious Revolution

Eleven years after the Medway disaster, the Dutch monarch William of Orange answered a desperate call from English Parliament. King James II, a Catholic, faced a succession crisis: his son would inherit the throne, bypassing his Protestant daughter Mary, thereby threatening a permanent Catholic dynasty.

Parliamentarians, fearing a Catholic resurgence, penned a letter to William, urging him to intervene. Though James amassed an army of 25,000—larger than William’s forces—the prospect of invasion sparked defections, riots, and widespread anti‑Catholic sentiment. James moved his troops out of London to confront William, but ultimately retreated to the capital without a battle.

Realising resistance was futile, James fled into exile. Parliament originally intended to crown Mary alone, with William as her consort, but William leveraged his military presence to secure joint sovereignty. The resulting Bill of Rights, signed by William and Mary, laid the foundation for modern British constitutional monarchy, marking the only instance in British history where a monarch ruled jointly with a spouse.