ground, so I can probably replace my collection of jars.
Fortunately we had good weather, for the autumn storms had not yet begun. I hurried on the journey as much as I could by distributing extra rations of food and wine to the galley slaves at my own expense, however mad this seemed to the naval centurion who relied more on his whip and knew that he could easily replace any slaves he lost en route with Jewish prisoners. I had other reasons. I think one can make people do what one wants with good rather than evil. But I have always been unnecessarily softhearted, as my father was. Remember that I have never once struck you, my insubordinate son. How could I possibly strike a future Emperor?
To pass the time I asked many questions about the fleet during the journey. Among other things I was told why marines, both on board and ashore, had to go barefooted. This I had not known before, but I have wondered about it sometimes. I thought it had something to do with seamanship.
Now I learned how Emperor Claudius had once in the amphitheater been angry when some marines from Ostia, spreading out a sunshade above the spectators’ seats in the middle of a performance, began to demand compensation from him for the marching shoes they had worn out on the way there. So Claudius forbade the use of shoes in the entire fleet and ever since then his orders have been faithfully obeyed. We Romans respect our traditions.
Later on I happened to mention the matter to Vespasian, but he considers it best for the seamen to continue barefoot since they are used to it. It has not done them any harm hitherto. “Why create more expenses in the already huge naval budget?” he said. Thus naval centurions still consider it an honor to go barefooted on duty, although they like to wear soft parade boots on their feet during leaves on shore.
It was a great weight off my mind when I eventually put my valuable chests in the keeping of a well-known banker in Caesarea, safe from the dangers of the sea. Bankers have to trust one another, or no reasonable business life would be possible. Thus I trusted this man although
I knew him only through letters. But his father had in my father’s youth been my father’s banker in Alexandria or had at least sold him travel documents. So we were in a way business friends.
Caesarea was at peace in the sense that the Greek inhabitants had taken the opportunity to kill the city’s Jews, women and small children as well. So there was no trace of the revolt to be seen in the city, except considerable shipping activity and guarded mule caravans carrying equipment to the legions outside Jerusalem. Joppa and Caesarea were the two most important harbors supporting Vespasian.
On the way to Vespasian’s camp outside Jerusalem, I saw how hopeless the situation was for the Jewish civilians who were still left. The Samaritans had also joined in and had cleared their decks. The legionaries themselves did not differentiate between Galileans and Samaritans and Jews in general. Fertile Galilee with its million inhabitants was devastated, to the lasting injury of the Roman kingdom. Of course it did not officially belong to us but had been handed over to Herodes Agrippa to rule because of old ties of friendship.
I took this matter up first when I met Vespasian and Titus. They received me wholeheartedly, for they were curious to know what was happening in Gaul and Rome. Vespasian told me that the legionaries were angry about the fierce resistance the Jews were offering and that they had suffered severe losses from fanatics attacking the roads from their hiding places in the mountains. He had been forced to give his commantlers authority to create peace in the countryside, and a punitive expedition was on its way to destroy one of the Jewish strongpoints by the Dead Sea. Arrows had been shot from the towers and according to reliable sources, injured fanatics had sought refuge there.
I took the opportunity to read them a brief lecture on the Jewish faith and customs and to explain that it was obviously a question of one of the Essene sect’s closed houses into which they withdrew for religious exercises because they did not wish to pay taxes to the temple. The Essenes sought to retreat from the world and were hostile to Jerusalem rather than friendly. There was no reason to persecute them.
They were supported by certain peaceable people in the country who neither could nor wished to be initiated completely, but preferred to lead their modest family lives without harming anyone. If one of these people took in an injured fanatic seeking protection and gave him food and water, then he did this for religious reasons and not in support of the rebellion. From what I had heard from my companions on the journey, these people had also given shelter and food to wounded Roman legionaries and bound up their wounds. So I felt they should not be killed without reason.
Vespasian muttered that in Britain I had not been particularly knowledgeable about warfare, so he had preferred to send me out on pleasure trips about the country and give me the rank of tribune when my father became a senator, more from political reasons than for gain. However, I succeeded in convincing him that it was not worth killing the Jewish country people or burning their humble homes just because they took care of the wounded.
Titus agreed with me, for he was much taken with Herodes Agrip-pa’s sister, Berenice, so was interested in the Jews. Berenice lived inces-tuously with her brother, in the hereditary manner of the Herodians, but Titus said that in that case he must learn to understand the customs of the Jews. He seemed to have hopes that Berenice’s great love for her brother would cool and she would begin to visit him in his comfortable field tent, at least at night when no one would see her. This was a matter I did not think I could become involved in.
I was deeply hurt by Vespasian’s contemptuous words about my travels in Britain. So I remarked that if he had nothing against it, I should like to set out on a similar pleasure trip into Jerusalem to view the defenses of the besieged city with my own eyes and find the cracks which might possibly exist in the strength of the Jews.
It was important to know how many disguised Parthian mercenaries were there to lead the work of strengthening the walls. The Parthians had had a great deal of experience of sieges and defense in Armenia. In any case there were Parthian bowmen in Jerusalem, for it was not advisable to wander within range of the walls. I was not so ignorant of matters of warfare that I believed that inexperienced Jews could suddenly have learned this frightening skill with bow and arrow.
My suggestion made an impression on Vespasian. He peered at me, passed his hand over his mouth and laughingly explained that he could not possibly take the responsibility for a Roman senator’s exposing himself to such danger, if I meant it seriously. If I were taken prisoner then the Jews would demand concessions of him. If I lost my life ignomini-ously, then this would bring shame on Rome and on him. Nero might take it into his head that he had deliberately rid himself of one of Nero’s personal friends.
He looked at me craftily, but I knew his cunning little ways. So I replied that for the good of the State, friendship must stand aside. He had no reason to insult me by calling me a friend of Nero’s. In this respect we need hide nothing from each other. Rome and the future of the fatherland were our guiding lights on the battlefield, where the corpses stank, the carrion birds gorged and legionaries hung like sun-dried sacks from the walls of Jerusalem.
I raised my voice rhetorically as I was in the habit of doing in the Senate. Vespasian patted me on the back in a friendly way with his broad peasant hand and assured me that he in no way doubted my motives and put his trust in my patriotism. Naturally he had not even imagined that I was going to slip into Jerusalem to betray his military secrets; I could not be that mad. But on the torture racks not even a strong man can keep his mouth shut, and the Jews had shown themselves to be skillful interrogators when it came to getting information. He regarded it as his first duty to protect my life and my safety, once I had voluntarily put myself under his protection.
He introduced me to his adviser Josephus, a Jewish rebel leader who had betrayed his friends when they had all decided to commit suicide rather than fall into Roman hands. Josephus had allowed his friends to die and had then surrendered, saving his life by prophesying that one day Vespasian would be Emperor. As a joke, Vespasian had had golden shackles put on him and promised to release him if his prophecy came true. Later, when he was freed, he insolently called himself Flavius Josephus.
From the very first I took an instant dislike to this despicable traitor, and the literary reputation he has since acquired has in no way altered my opinion, in fact to the contrary. In his foolish voluminous work on the Jewish rebellion he overestimates, in my view, the significance of many events, and is much too long-winded in his accounts of details.
My criticism is not in the slightest influenced by the fact that he found no reason to include my name in his book, although it was solely due to me that the siege was continued, once I had seen the circumstances within the walls with my own eyes. It would have been mad for Vespasian, in this political situation, to use his well-trained legions for useless attacks against the unexpectedly strong walls, when a siege and starvation brought about the same result. Unnecessary losses would have made him unpopular with the legionaries, which would have not suited my intentions at all.
