Authors: Peter R. Hall
Neopolitanus was surprised to hear a Roman general say that a city couldn't be taken. The invincibility of Rome's military machine had been dinned into him from childhood. Wisely he didn't dispute this with the
Legate
. Instead he saluted smartly and took his leave. The column was now deep into what seemed to be a sea of people. Painfully slowly, displaying the legion's golden eagle, its standards raised and its drums beating, the column made its way through the city gates into Jerusalem.
The road leading to the Antonia also led to the Temple and was packed with people. The pavements were lined with vendors offering a bewildering variety of merchandise. The noise was deafening, with people shouting and arguing; pedlars and merchants calling out the virtues of their particular wares; beggars soliciting alms; herds of penned animals bawling; the rumble of wagon wheels as carts drawn by camels forced their way through. Motes of dust, stirred by countless feet, danced in shafts of sunlight that sliced across the rooftops to penetrate the maze of streets latticed with hard white light and indigo shadows.
As Gallus'
cohorts
approached the Antonia, streams of worshippers were leaving the Temple to cross the bridge into the western half of the city, heading for the souk's markets, swelling the crowds shopping in its narrow shaded streets. The booths lining the souk were piled high with goods brought from every corner of the world - baskets, thimbles, carpets and textiles of every kind and colour. From Arabia - glassware, silver and gold craftworks. From India - spices and precious stones. From Africa - exotic animals, slaves, gold, ivory and ebony. From Edom - myrrh, aromatic oils, rare woods and precious spices, traded through India by the Parthians, the unconquered tribes Rome feared most.
From China, a land of mystery, its borders closed to foreigners, came silk. Worth ten times its weight in gold, it was only available to a handful of merchants who had survived the journey to Beijing and been accepted as trading partners. Even then they could only deal with one man, appointed by the Chinese Emperor to negotiate the sale of silk, who in turn would only negotiate sales with Rome's designated merchants, be they Jews or Arabs.
At every corner there were vendors selling sweetmeats, water, wine and fruit juices; the sellers clashing finger cymbals to attract attention. In the fish market, stalls were brimming with fresh fish of every description, next to which were barrels of salted and pickled eels. Overhead hung poles supporting bundles of dried fish, stiff as shingles and bleached almost white. Butchers displayed cuts of lamb and goat, the heads of which were impaled on spikes, eyes glaring balefully at prospective customers. Hearts, livers and lungs were displayed on hooks like jewelled necklaces.
The warm air was redolent with a potpourri of scents, spices, incense, vegetables, fruit, flowers, herbs, animal dung, garbage from the markets, sweet smelling oils and perfumes; all mingling with the odours of frying foods and the smells that accompany humans in close contact. A pungent aroma that would intensify as the day got hotter.
To make progress through this seemingly impenetrable mass, Neopolitanus placed a squad of heavy infantry at the head of the cohort who marched in close order, shields held edge to edge along the side of their columns. With trumpets blowing and drums beating out a steady marching cadence, the column moved forward, though not without some cursing and the odd vegetable being hurled in their direction by an irate citizen.
Neopolitanus was not alone in breathing a sigh of relief when they arrived at the Antonia fortress, the headquarters of the occupying troops permanently garrisoned in Jerusalem. A guard of honour had been turned out to meet them. They entered the fortress to a fanfare of trumpets and were greeted by the Antonia's commander, the
Praetorian
Metilius.
After Gallus had inspected the guard of honour, he and Metilius left the business of standing the column down to Neopolitanus and the fortress' duty officer Centurion Crassus Maximus. With the men and their equipment squared away, Neopolitanus asked Crassus if he would brief him about the city and its citizens. “But first”, he said, “I must bathe. I stink more than my horse”. With a grin Crassus confirmed the stink and said he would be happy to show him the ropes.
In the afternoon, refreshed and glad to be out of their armour, wearing plain linen tunics and leather vests, Neopolitanus and Crassus ventured out of the fortress into the crowded streets, the jostling crowd noisy but amiable. Passover was the most joyous of Jerusalem's festivals; an opportunity to set aside the cares and worries of everyday life and relax. Countless thousands of pilgrims, unable to find accommodation, were squeezed into the homes of friends; sleeping in corners of already crowded rooms, in courtyards and some, in desperation, camping in doorways and tethering the Paschal lamb brought from the country to the nearest post.
Picking their way carefully through the heaving mass, the two Romans made their way along the densely packed streets, stumbling over bedding, pots and pans and bundles of personal belongings, whose mounds indicated possession and occupation of a particular bit of pavement.
“In here”. Crassus took Neopolitanus' arm and pulled him into the portico of a pastry shop. “We can get a bite to eat and catch our breath”. Neopolitanus grinned and nodded his agreement. The two men found a quiet corner in the cool interior of the shop and after ordering a dish of fried locust en croûte, began to discuss the volatile situation.
Neopolitanus was baffled by Crassus' unwillingness to see the Jewish nationalists' point of view, no matter how misguided it was. “Years ago” said Crassus, “the Jews invited us here. They sent a delegation to Rome and pleaded with us to admit them to the empire, to dig them out of the shit Aristobulus had landed them in”.
Through a mouthful of pastry Neopolitanus said, “Then the Roman senate proclaimed Herod King of Judaea. Being an Idumaean, one quarter Jew and three quarters Arab, he was hated by just about everybody. Then of course there was the Jewish tyrant, Herod's son Archelaus, who bled the Jews dry until Augustus banished him to Gaul”.
Crassus grinned. “You should go further back than that. Rome made its first treaty with the Jews two hundred years ago. At the Hebrew's request, Rome dispatched military advisors to Judaea and followed this up by sending the troops the Jews asked for to protect them”.
Neopolitanus snorted. “The long noses need reminding that Judaea isn't Jewish anyway. They took the country by force of arms from the Canaanites and wiped out the entire indigenous population. They spared nobody; they didn't even take slaves. They claimed their God had ordered them to commit wholesale murder”.
“Come now, that's many years ago”, countered Crassus, “Seventeen hundred to be precise”.
“But” Neopolitanus continued hurriedly before his companion could interrupt “the kettle mustn't call the pot black. Discussions about rights of ownership of particular bits of the world can put us Romans in a difficult position, given the size of our empire”.
Crassus shook his head. “The Jews asked for a treaty because it suited them. We agreed because it suited us. We now have, or should have, a friendly state supporting Syria and Egypt. We Romans came here because this country is a crossroads. It is essential to the rule of our empire because we hold Egypt, which everybody wants for its limitless harvest of corn. We also have the Parthians for enemies. Palestine and Syria are the defence buffer between us and our age old foe who”, he added sombrely “has never been defeated in battle”.
“Well Centurion”, replied Neopolitanus, “If a treaty between Roman and Jew is one of mutual self-interest, why do we have endless problems with these people? Why do they not accept the benefits and advantages of the Roman way of life, the protection of Roman armies, Roman law, enjoy Roman culture and the freedom to worship their own Gods?”
Crassus grimaced. “Well we cannot impose our way of life on this stiff necked people. Pompey tried and failed. The Jews are racially prejudiced. We can either accept that and work with it or” he added ominously, “we can wipe the lot out”.
“Or” Neapolitanus said “we display the good side of Roman life and hope it will gradually be accepted for its own sake.” Wiping crumbs from his lips Neopolitanus stood up. “Come. Show me the defences of the city. The
Legate
recommended the top of the Antonia as a viewing point”.
“Agreed”, said Crassus, “but I will need time to change. I am due back on duty”.
In the early evening, the two men stood on top of the Antonia's highest tower, Crassus in full armour. From the pinnacle on which they stood, the city was laid out like a map. Crassus remained silent to allow Neopolitanus to take in the splendour that was at their feet. It was Neopolitanus who broke the silence. Speaking more to himself than to his companion, he said “Perhaps it is impregnable”.
“As you can see” said Crassus “the city, like Rome, is built on a series of hills. Where it differs” he continued “is that unlike Rome, it is protected on three sides by the deep ravines the Jews call Gehenna and Kidron”. Neopolitanus stared down into what seemed a bottomless abyss. Crassus continued “You will notice that the valleys are devoid of all vegetation. The sides are bare rock, which is so steep as to be unclimbable”.
“That” replied Neopolitanus wryly “is why they build their walls along the edges”.
Crassus pointed to one of the hills. “That is the Upper City, known as the Upper Market. The second hill is the Citadel and is covered by the Lower City. The opposite part of the city”, he continued pointing to a third hill, “was originally cut off by a wide ravine. During the Hasmonaean period, this was filled in and as you can see it joins the city to the Temple. The Jews call this area the Valley of the Cheese Makers”. “But the walls”, said Neopolitanus in a hushed voice, “what walls! They seem to rise up from Hades itself and brush the very heavens with their towers and fortresses”.
“It's the walls, their fortified towers and massive fortresses, which make this place an invading army's nightmare”. Crassus chuckled, but there was no mirth in it. “There are three walls, one behind the other, with over a hundred towers spaced along them and as you have observed, the walls are unassailable because they are on the rims of bottomless ravines”.
“How on earth did the Jews get all that masonry of such Herculean sizes to this place?” asked Neopolitanus.
“They didn't”, his companion replied. “They dug most of the city out of the ground. Jerusalem stands on limestone the Jews call travertine. When it is in the ground, it is soft and easily worked. However, when it is exposed to air, it becomes very hard, almost impossible to cut. As a result of their excavations the Jews got a bonus. The city stands on cisterns which hold millions of gallons of water. They also have underground caverns containing several years' supply of grain and oil, and every other kind of material necessary to not only sustain life, but supply a defending army with all its needs”.
Neopolitanus shook his head in amazement before asking ruefully, “And the fortresses I can see spaced out strategically between the towers?”
Crassus grinned thinly. “At the northern end of the old wall is the Hippicus. It has its own water supply and siege storage vaults, as in indeed do all the towers and fortresses. Above the high base, which is topped by a two story building, is a fortified tower. With turrets and ramparts it stands at one hundred and twenty feet high excluding the base of solid stone, which is fifty feet high. The Phasael fortress further along”, Crassus continued, “is even bigger. It is protected by breastworks and bulwarks”.
Studying the Phasael, Neopolitanus asked, “What is access like between the different levels?”
“There is a spiral staircase which allows access to each floor. Being a spiral it is easily defended. Each of the fortresses has a similar staircase. Though I must say”, Crassus concluded, “the idea of anyone ever succeeding in breaking into any of them is laughable”.
Neopolitanus silently digested this information. He was beginning to agree with the
Legate's
earlier remark about the city being impregnable. After a long silence he asked, “And the third fortress in the old wall?”
“That's the Marriam, shorter than the others being eighty two feet high. The building on top of the fortified base is a magnificent palace Herod built in memory of his wife Marriam. The Hippicus was named after a friend and the Phasael after his brother”.
“Remarkable monuments”, said Neopolitanus.
“He murdered all three”, laughed Crassus.
Neopolitanus, no stranger to political murder, made no comment on the savagery. Instead he pointed to the North West. “There, on the corner opposite the Hippicus, what's the very tall octagonal tower?”
“That's the Psephinus Tower; it's a hundred and fifty feet high. From the top you can see the furthest extent of Palestine; sometimes on a really clear day you can even see Arabia”.
“Remind me, how many fortresses and towers are there?”
“The third wall has ninety towers, each a hundred yards apart. The middle wall has fourteen and the old wall sixty. The circuit of the walls is four miles. Of course as well as the one hundred and sixty four fortified towers, there are the three fortresses we have spoken about, which are part of the walls”.