Ancient Rome: The Rise and Fall of an Empire

by Baker, Simon

  As the men of the twelfth legion beat their grinding, demoralized retreat to Caesarea, Gallus failed to take account of one thing: control of the hilltops enclosing the rocky passes through which the Romans marched. When the pass narrowed near Beth-Horon, a huge army of Jewish rebels cut off the road, brought the serpentine column of soldiers to a complete standstill and surrounded them on all sides. Then, from the rocky slopes, they attacked the forces of the occupying power with a barrage of arrows, spears and stones. Unable to defend themselves or keep their formations in a tight defile, the panic-stricken Roman soldiers ducked beneath their shields and suffered hours of painful pounding. Only nightfall provided a temporary respite, and when the next day came, Gallus opted for the ignominy of fleeing. The Romans had been utterly routed, and approximately 6000 of their number had been killed. It was the greatest defeat of regular Roman forces by the people of an established province in all Roman history.13

  Jews the length and breadth of the province were overjoyed. Many believed their extraordinary victory was a miracle. Prophets, perhaps cooperating with the revolutionary leaders, played their part too in pointing to the hand of God. With His aid, perhaps it was possible for the underdog to defeat the almighty power of Rome. What else could possibly explain such an historic, unprecedented victory? According to Josephus, however, there were many too who viewed their success with dismay. For while the Jews debated the significance of their brilliant, landmark triumph, one thing was certain. The door to negotiations was firmly closed. The Jews, whether they liked it or not, were now committed to war.

  In Jerusalem the moderates had regained control of the city. Some ringleaders of the insurrection had been killed, and with their deaths, popular opinion among the majority swung back in favour of the priestly élite. The high priest Hanan and other moderates now pressed home their advantage. If Judaea must fight Rome, they told the people of Jerusalem with renewed authority, at least let us take charge of it.14 The people agreed and accordingly appointed the priests to lead the war strategy. However, in deciding that, it is reasonable to imagine that Hanan and the élite kept their real intentions secret.

  For while the hopes of many people in the city were inflated by the defeat of Gallus and his soldiers, Hanan and his fellow moderates took a more realistic view of the future. To them the more likely outcome of a war was not victory for the Jews, but winning key concessions from Rome. After all, the priestly élite could point out to each other, just six years earlier in Britain the Romans had, with difficulty, put down the revolt led by Boudicca, queen of the Iceni. To avoid another conflict – let alone one that would be long and protracted, and in which many Roman lives would be lost – perhaps the Romans might be prepared to come to new terms?15 Of one thing, however, Hanan and his fellow priests were sure: they too had to throw in their lot with the rebellion. Their only consolation was that it was they and not the hothead nationalists who were in charge of it.

  There was much work to be done. Before the Romans mustered the appropriate military response to Gallus’s catastrophic defeat, the Jews needed to organize – and quickly. Hanan urgently required people he could trust to command the rebels in the country at large and prepare the towns for resistance. For the post of commander in Galilee he knew just the right man.

  JOSEPHUS, COMMANDER OF GALILEE

  When the news of Gallus’s defeat reached Rome, the emperor Nero and his advisers saw danger. The rebellion in the little province of Judaea spelt the potential for much worse: the revolt could spread and destabilize the whole of the Roman empire’s eastern frontier. One possible fear was that Jews living in Alexandria and Antioch (the second and third greatest cities of the empire) could be persuaded to join their compatriots’ fight: the Jewish communities of the eastern Mediterranean represented a ‘fifth column’ at the centre of the empire. However, there was one area of danger that the imperial advisers may have feared even more: Parthia. The greatest population of Jews outside Judaea resided in Rome’s rival empire. Might the Parthians take advantage of the insurrection? Might they see in it an invitation to meddle in the Mediterranean? For help in the crisis, the emperor turned to an unlikely source.

  The senator Titus Flavius Vespasianus was a disgraced general living in exile in Greece. The son of a tax-gatherer and the first of his family to reach the Senate, Vespasian had been included in the entourage that accompanied Nero on his tour of Greek festivals in the belief that he would compliantly applaud the emperor whenever he graced the stage. Vespasian repaid the compliment by falling asleep in the theatre and failing to muster even the weariest of claps. Vulgar jokes and ball games were more to his taste. He was simply not cut out to be a patron of the arts. He was a soldier. Burly in physique and bearing a strained expression in his face, he had risen to the ranks of the Senate because of an accomplished military record. He had fought in Germany as a military tribune, but it was in the Roman invasion and conquest of Britain that his reputation soared. Serving under the emperor Claudius, he fought no fewer than thirty battles and was rewarded with triumphal honours and a consulship.16 In addition to an impeccable military record, Vespasian’s location in Greece may have weighed in his favour too: from there he could reach the trouble zone in double-quick time.

  But there was one key factor that sealed his appointment. Since Nero was paranoid about rivals among the aristocracy gaining glory and outshining his own, the fact that Vespasian’s family could boast no distinguished antecedents was a distinct advantage. This was the ultimate reason why Nero forgave him for his inattentive, ungrateful behaviour on the Greek tour and offered the seasoned general the greatest break of his career: the command of forces in Judaea.17 However, when the news came, Vespasian could never have imagined quite how radically the appointment would transform his life and that of his wife and two sons.

  Needing people he could rely on, Vespasian called upon his eldest son, Titus, to join him in Greece, where together they drew up plans for the Roman campaign. The young man was charming, good-natured and popular. Like his father, he was a strong soldier skilled in horsemanship and the use of weapons, but he was also gifted in other ways. He excelled at singing and playing music, and could compose a speech or a poem in Greek or Latin at the drop of a hat.18 Now that father and son were together, it was agreed that, although only a quaestor, Titus be given the command of the fifteenth legion based in Alexandria, while Vespasian took charge of the tenth legion and the fifth legion based in Syria. The general decided against making use of the disgraced twelfth legion, defeated by the Jews at Beth-Horon. The three legions would rendezvous at the coastal city of Ptolemais in Galilee before launching their attack on the rebels.

  Although these legions might have seemed a massive force, every single soldier in them would be needed. The job confronting father and son was huge. There were many towns and villages to bring into line throughout the province of Judaea, and, according to Josephus’s exaggerated figures, each had a population of at least 15,000. Furthermore, the Jews’ military tactics of guerrilla warfare were not ones that the Roman legions were best equipped and trained for. Finally, should the Jews retreat to hill-top forts, the Roman forces would face long, demoralising sieges. In taking on these challenges, the relationship between Vespasian and Titus was less that of father and son than a partnership. The two men agreed that the command of forces in Judaea was something in which they could not afford to fail. Through plunder and the selling of prisoners into slavery, there was much money to be made. Success in bringing an end to the rebellion would also bring great glory and acclaim to their name.

  While Vespasian organized his army in Syria during the winter of AD 66–7, the commander in charge of the Jewish resistance in Galilee was also making preparations. Josephus took charge of building defences in the towns of Galilee, north of Judaea; he also got to grips with the task of equipping and training the Jewish army. He claimed later to have followed the model of the Roman army, aiming to instil discipline and obedience in his troops, drilling them
in the practice of arms, and establishing a clearly organized chain of command. However, the task was proving a miserable, uphill struggle. The aristocratic young scholar found himself in charge of the homeless, of angry peasants and of villagers who had never been to the Holy City. And yet here they were, being asked by an aristocrat, an outsider, to unite behind him and fight a war that was Jerusalem’s. Staking his authority over his army would prove a challenge in its own right. Despite these significant difficulties, Josephus’s job in Galilee was about to get a lot more complicated.

  A local radical called John ben Levi, also known as John of Gischala, his Galilean home town, came and found Josephus. He offered his and his followers’ services, which Josephus gratefully accepted. When John energetically organized the rebuilding of Gischala’s walls, Josephus was impressed by the man’s energy. However, that good impression was not to last. In his account of the war preparations in Galilee, written with hindsight, Josephus’s praise quickly turns to venom. John was a ‘liar’, ‘the most unprincipled trickster that ever won ill fame by such vicious habits’ and a would-be power-monger who had surrounded himself with a four-hundred-strong private army of thuggish bandits who were prepared to murder for money.19 Reading between the lines of Josephus’s subjective view, John was simply an opportunist with popular instincts, who in the war against foreign oppression was prepared to go to far greater extremes than the well-to-do priest. There was nothing John would not do, no money he would not take, to win power and take the fight to Rome. His presence in Galilee was about to make life hellish for the sensible, moderate commander. More than this, the quarrels between extremist and moderate would give the Romans an unexpected advantage even before they had set foot in Judaea.

  When, for example, Josephus gave John permission to provide the Jews in Syria with kosher oil so that they would not have to break their religious code and use foreign-produced olive oil, John seized the opportunity to corner the market in Galilee oil and created a racket. Reselling the produce at eight times the price, he made a fortune for the war effort and, according to Josephus, for himself. Using the profits, he paid for his band of followers to carry out raiding parties on the rich in Galilee. As the havoc increased, so too did the hostility between Josephus and John. Relations soon became so poisonous that the commander believed that John secretly intended to kill him. A scenario ran round and round in Josephus’s mind: John wanted to draw Josephus into policing his raids so that, in the fracas, Josephus could be ambushed and killed, and John could seize power. Indeed, Josephus was right to be paranoid. It was not long before John began plotting against his life.

  On the pretence of being ill, John gained leave from Josephus to go to the baths in the Galilean town of Tiberias to rest and recover. His actual intention, however, was to stir up a revolt against Josephus through deceptions, lies and bribes. Alerted to the danger by his delegate in Tiberias, Josephus showed the courage for which Hanan had perhaps appointed him commander. Without hesitation, he rushed to the town, gathered the people together and spoke to them forcefully, thus reasserting his authority. John, however, did not give up. Some of his private army made their way through the crowds and, drawing their swords, approached Josephus from behind. People in the crowd shouted to Josephus to watch out, and, with a sharp blade just inches from his throat, he made a narrow escape. He jumped down from the platform on which he had been speaking, and, with the aid of his bodyguard, got away in a boat moored near by.20

  The episode was enough to swing popular opinion back in Josephus’s favour and away from John. The conspirators were rounded up, but John was too quick. He had fled the town and set his sights on rallying followers elsewhere in Galilee. However, it would not be the last time the lives of the two men would cross. Their clash was symbolic of a conflict simmering away throughout the province. Up and down Judaea and Galilee the tensions between the priests’ moderate leadership in Jerusalem and the bands of revolutionaries in the country grew steadily worse. In the build-up to war with Rome, others more ideological than John were taking advantage of the chaos and confusion. In the town of Acrabata a peasant leader called Simon ben Gioras had raised his own gang of revolutionaries and was operating independently of the war effort organized in Jerusalem by Hanan and the Temple authorities. The worse the tensions between the Jewish factions, and the more divided the war effort, the easier the anticipated task of Rome would become. However, both revolutionary and moderate alike knew that by the spring of AD 67, the time to pursue their struggles for power had elapsed. The Romans were coming.

  Vespasian’s three legions amassed at Ptolemais. They were reinforced by a mixture of auxiliary and regular cohorts from Caesarea and Syria, and also with allied forces contributed by the pro-Roman kings in the region – Agrippa, Antiochus and Soaemus. With an army at least 60,000 strong thus deployed, Vespasian and Titus decided on the strategy for war. Some of the commander’s officers advised that the cleanest and simplest way to end the rebellion was to go for the jugular and crush resistance in Jerusalem. Vespasian disagreed. He knew that there was one pivotal reason why Cestius Gallus had not been able to take the Holy City: Jerusalem was virtually impregnable.

  Built on a rocky plateau with steep and deep ravines on the south, east and west sides, the city was a natural fortress. Adding to its strength were three mighty concentric walls. Even if the city had been built on flat land, Jerusalem would still be impenetrable.21 To attempt to take the city, went Vespasian’s line of reasoning, was a huge gamble and would result not just in a collapse of soldier morale, but also in a massive loss of Roman life. The only safe way to crush the rebellion centred on Jerusalem was first to take control of the territories around it. The rebels in the towns, villages and guerrilla strongholds of Judaea and Galilee must all be brought into line. However, Vespasian also knew that the manner in which Rome won back the outlying territories was critical.

  To win a psychological advantage over the Jewish rebels, Vespasian and Titus decided on a war of terror, a standard Roman tactic. The key principle was to show no mercy: to kill everyone fit to bear arms, and enslave those who could not resist; to plunder and ravage all that came into the Roman army’s path. In short, the plan was to terrorize Jerusalem into submission.22 The sight of the column alone was daunting. Light-armed auxiliaries and bowmen were followed by heavy-armed infantry, some with the responsibility of marking out camps. Then came the road-makers, laden with their tools for levelling surfaces and straightening bends obstructing the path. A cavalry force and body of spearmen protected the personal baggage of the high command. After them could be seen the train of mules carrying the mass of artillery, the battering rams and missile engines. Then came the group comprising Vespasian, Titus and the senior officers with their bodyguard. Appropriately, the military standards, surrounding the symbol of the eagle – ‘the king of birds and most fearless of all’ – divided the generals from the main body of soldiers, while servants and camp followers brought up the rear.

  Invading Galilee from the west, Vespasian first took Gabara, where John of Gischala had taken charge of the rebellion. While John again escaped to regroup elsewhere, the town was less fortunate: it was taken at the first assault. Marching into it, Vespasian executed his plan. He showed no clemency, put to the sword everyone except small children, and then burnt down the town itself and all the surrounding villages. However, when he learnt that the commander of Galilee had rallied the largest stronghold of Jewish resistance in Jotapata, he made that town his next port of call. It too was to become a scene of stark conflict. Vespasian had every intention of going on just as he had begun.

  Built on a precipice, Jotapata was a natural hilltop stronghold, protected on all sides but the north by deep ravines. Inside the town, awaiting the Roman approach, was Josephus. Although by his mere presence the commander of Galilee had raised the morale of the rebels, deep down he had two conflicting feelings. Rationally he knew that it was futile to attempt to defy Roman power. He even claimed to have made a prop
hecy to that effect: the town would fall on the forty-seventh day. The only real hope of safety was to give in immediately. Josephus even consoled himself that if he went over to the Romans, he would be pardoned, so what was the point in fighting? However, the second emotion was the greater. He would rather die than betray his motherland and flout the trust that his makeshift, peasant army had placed in him.23 This at least is the picture described by Josephus in his account. It shows signs of the fact that his history was written after the event in an attempt (in part) to present himself to a Roman readership in a good light. One fact was certainly true. Josephus, a Roman sympathizer and unlikely commander, was about to come face to face with the same brute force that had created the Roman empire and was now bloodily stamping out all opposition to it.

  It took just five days to clear a road wide enough for the Roman forces to approach Jotapata from the north side. Once in position, Vespasian began the assault. For the first five days the Jews showed an utter disrespect for their vastly superior enemy. Covered by firepower from the town walls, Josephus and his men made daring sallies against the Roman attack, while Vespasian tried to push up the slope and reach the town. After five days of courageous defence, the spirit of the Jews soared with confidence, but then Vespasian changed tack. In order to protect his assault force, he ordered siege towers to be erected against the north wall. Time and again, however, the Roman siege operations were beaten by Jewish resourcefulness.