XXIII

THE APOSTLES AND THE JEWISH REVOLT

While Nero was still entertaining King Tiridates at Rome in the early spring of AD 66, Joseph bar Matthias, the Jewish rabbi, having obtained the release of three fellow priests from Nero, arrived back in Jerusalem. It was just after the year’s Passover festival. Joseph found Jerusalem in turmoil.

“There were a great many with high hopes of a revolt from the Romans,” he would recall. “They were already in possession of Antonia, which was the citadel.”¹ Weeks earlier, the Roman procurator of Judea, Gessius Florus, had come up to Jerusalem from the Roman capital of Judea, Caesarea, to be present for the Passover, when Jerusalem’s population was swelled well past a million people by Jewish pilgrims from throughout the ancient world—Josephus put the number of pilgrims one year at three million. Even though Florus had brought extra troops with him to augment the Roman garrison at Jerusalem during the Passover, Zealot rebels had stage-managed such unrest in the city that Florus, in fear for his own life, had negotiated what he thought would be an end to the troubles.

In return for leaving a single cohort of Roman troops at the city and agreeing that these troops would remain in their garrisons and not mix with the people, Florus received a guarantee from the Jewish priests of the Great Sanhedrin that there would be no more trouble. Florus and the majority of his infantry and all his cavalry had then marched back down to Caesarea on the Mediterranean coast, leaving 480 men, apparently from the 3rd Gallica Legion, at Jerusalem. Of those legionaries, 240 were stationed in the Palace of Herod and the rest in the Antonia Fortress—built by Herod the Great and named in honor of his good friend Mark Antony.

Within days, the rebels, against the advice of the Sanhedrin, had taken up arms and launched attacks on the Antonia Fortress and Herod’s palace. The Antonia was a vast citadel and much too large for just 240 troops to defend against thousands of attackers. Within days, the rebels had overrun the fortress and massacred all the legionaries inside. It was at this point that Joseph had arrived back home. “I therefore tried to put a stop to these troublemakers,” Joseph wrote.² Having been at Rome for the past several years and seen the vast resources that the Romans could draw on to rebuild their city from rubble in just a year following the Great Fire, he dreaded what they could do against a rebellious Jewish nation.

Joseph said that he told the rebels “that they were inferior to the Romans not only in military skill but also in good fortune,” and that they would only bring “the most terrible disasters down on their country, on their families, and on themselves. And I said this with vehement exhortation, because I could foresee that the outcome of such a war would be most unfortunate for us. But I could not persuade them. For the madness of desperate men was much too strong for me.”³

The young rabbi realized that “by often repeating these things I would incur their hatred and their suspicion, as if I were on our enemy’s side, and would run the risk of being seized by them and killed.” So, he joined the priests who barricaded themselves inside the Temple against the rebels. The Zealots, meanwhile, targeted all their efforts on seizing the Palace of Herod. The remaining 240 legionaries were soon reinforced by troops sent by Herod Agrippa II, tetrarch of Trachonitis and Batanaea, a Roman ally. But, after heavy fighting, Agrippa’s troops defected to the side of the rebels.

The legionaries, who had retreated to the palace’s towers, were now convinced to surrender with the promise that once they gave up their weapons, they would be permitted to leave. As soon as the Roman troops had disarmed, they were butchered by the rebel Jews. Only the centurion in charge was spared, after he vowed to convert to Judaism. At this same time, another party of Zealots was tricking its way into the old Herodian fortress atop the cliffs at remote Masada, beside the Dead Sea. There, the Roman cohort of the garrison was also massacred.

Nothing that Joseph could say now could prevent history from taking its course. The Jewish Revolt had begun, a thousand Roman legionaries had been killed, and Rome would want its revenge. Joseph was now one of three Jewish priests sent to Galilee to coordinate Jewish resistance there, not only to defend against a Roman military reply, but also to guard the Jewish communities against reprisals from the non-Jewish peoples of Judea, who began massacring their Jewish neighbors on the news of the uprising in Jerusalem. Like it or not, thirty-year-old Joseph had just become a general of the rebel Jewish army. He and his colleagues would arm and train tens of thousands of Jewish partisans, knowing that sooner or later, the Roman war machine would have to grind into gear against them.

In May, with Joseph in Galilee building his forces and competing with Zealots for control in the area, while expecting a Roman counteroffensive to be launched from Syria any day, Nero was in Greece attending the Olympic Games and about to compete in them. According to Christian legend, around this same time, two Jews were arrested in Rome. This would have been on the orders of Helius, the freedman left in charge at Rome by Nero during his absence.

One of these Jews was a noncitizen named Simeon of Galilee, who would become known among Christians as the Apostle Peter. Formerly a successful fisherman from Capernaum in Galilee, Simeon, called Simon by the Romans, had become the chief lieutenant of the Jewish preacher whom his Greek-speaking followers called Jesus of Nazareth, or the Christos, or anointed one. The other Jew was Paul of Tarsus, who had made his promised return to Rome. No Roman or Greek historian made any mention of these two Christian apostles, let alone described their time at Rome. All that is known of Peter and Paul at Rome comes from Christian tradition, which is based on later Christian writing.

According to that tradition, Peter and Paul had been preaching in Rome and were arrested and thrown into the Tullianum, or the Tullian Keep, the city prison at Rome, which later became known as the Mamertine Prison. This cavernous underground jail had originally been created, centuries before, as a cistern for the storage of rainwater. Converted into a prison, it consisted of two levels. The upper level was used for the incarceration of general inmates. In the lower level were kept those prisoners who had been convicted of a capital crime and were awaiting execution. It was also in this lower level that high-ranking enemy leaders captured in wartime met their deaths—strangled with a halter after being led through the streets in the Triumph of a Roman general. In this way, Gallic war leader Vercingetorix had been executed here after surrendering to Julius Caesar in 52 BC. Five years from now, one of the senior leaders of the Jewish Revolt in Judea would similarly meet his executioner in this lower chamber of the Tullianum.

The crimes for which Peter and Paul were arrested, convicted, and condemned have never been determined. Paul, in his second letter from Rome to Timotheus, whom he had placed in charge of the Christian church at Ephesus, would complain bitterly from prison that when he stood in court to answer the latest charges against him, “no man stood with me, but all men forsook me. I pray God that it may not be laid to their charge.” Paul made no mention of Peter. “Only Luke is with me.” Paul said that one of his companions, Demas, who had been with him when first he came to Rome six years earlier, had deserted him once Paul was arrested this second time; Demas had fled to Thessalonica in Macedonia. Two other companions had also left Rome; Crescens had gone to Galatia, and Titus to Dalmatia.

It is likely that Paul had been arrested on the accusation of a local artisan of Greek extraction. “Alexander the coppersmith did me much evil,” Paul wrote. “The Lord reward him according to his works.” Summoning Timothy to Rome to help him, Paul warned him to be wary of Alexander, “for he has greatly withstood our words.” It seems that until he declared his Roman citizenship, Paul had been found guilty and was about to be sent to the arena to suffer the fate of convicted noncitizens, a meeting with wild beasts, for he told Timothy, “I was delivered out of the mouth of the lion.”

Not released into the community under house arrest as he had been the last time he was in Rome, Paul was lodged in the prison in chains. Yet, he was still able to receive visitors, dictate letters to helpers, and receive gifts—he asked Timothy to bring him a cloak that he had left in Troas. Winter was approaching and the temperatures were already beginning to drop when he wrote this letter, most likely in the autumn. “Do thy diligence and come before winter,” he instructed Timothy.

Having escaped death in the arena in one of the several annual games in the Circus Maximus that June and July, Paul was being held in the Tullian prison while he awaited the hearing of his appeal to the emperor. The three Jewish rabbis whose freedom Joseph bar Matthias had eventually secured had spent six years in detention awaiting a hearing by the time of their release, and Paul himself had spent two years under house arrest the last time he had been at Rome. With Nero dallying in Greece and not planning to return to Rome for several years, there was every reason to expect that Paul’s wait could be a long one.

Peter, on the other hand, was not a Roman citizen. If we accept that Peter did indeed come to Rome and was arrested and executed there—which is a basic premise of the Roman Catholic Church—then as a noncitizen convicted of a capital crime, he had no right of appeal and would either be sent to the arena or be put on a cross and crucified shortly after his conviction. According to one Christian tradition, both apostles were executed within a year of each other. Another has nine months passing between their incarceration and execution. In the case of Peter, a noncitizen, such a long delay between arrest and execution is implausible. This suggests that Paul was arrested first, perhaps before Peter came to Rome, and that Peter was probably not arrested until some months later, during the winter of AD 66-67.

Through the summer and autumn of AD 66, Paul was a lone Christian prisoner in the Tullianum at Rome, awaiting his fate.

In Greece, Nero was competing in the Olympic Games. The news of the revolt by the Jews in Judea had reached him, but it did not concern him in the least. Just as Suetonius Paulinus, one of the consuls this year, had in AD 60-61 put down the Boudiccan revolt in Britain using his own resources as governor of the province, so the emperor expected the governor of Syria, who had four legions at his disposal, to deal with the Judean problem. Judea was a subprovince of the Roman province of Syria, and the authority of the propraetor, or imperial governor, of Syria extended over Judea and its procurator. By AD 66, that governor was Cestius Gallus. Once Procurator Florus in Caesarea had reported the Jerusalem uprising to Gallus in Antioch, the capital of Syria, the Jewish Revolt became Gallus’ problem. His expected response would be to march an army into Judea to put down the revolt.

Nero, meanwhile, was competing in the singing contest that he insisted be added to the Olympic program. “Nero Caesar wins this contest,” the chief judge subsequently announced, “and crowns the Roman people, and the inhabited world that is his own.”

The emperor then competed in the games’ four-horse chariot race. Falling out of his chariot midrace, he came close to being crushed to death, but escaped without major injury. Despite his failure to finish, the judges still declared Nero the race winner. After he accepted the victor’s laurel crown, Nero presented the Greek judges with a gift of a million sesterces. Flushed with his Olympian victories, Nero moved on. “He competed in every city alike that held any contest,” said Cassius Dio, “always employing ex-consul Cluvius Rufus as his herald.” The only places in Achaia where he did not compete, for various reasons, were Athens and Sparta.

In the meantime, Cestius Gallus, governor of Syria, had, over many months, put together the force with which he intended to put down the Jewish Revolt. At its core was the 12th Fulminata Legion, a unit that was soon to undergo its twenty-year discharge of time-served soldiers and the induction of a new intake. It was far from the ideal legion for the task. After almost two decades of service, the current enlistment had been drained of men through battle casualties and sickness. Just several years before, Tacitus had commented on the legion’s “numerical feebleness.”¹

To the 12th, Gallus added four cohorts from each of several other legions, plus auxiliaries and cavalry. Regional allies, including Herod Agrippa II, answered his call for troops with spearmen, archers, and cavalry, so that Gallus’ force totaled twenty-eight thousand men by the time that it reached Ptolemais, in southern Syria just a little north of Caesarea, late in the fall. After relieving the city of Sepphoris in Galilee, which had held out against the Jewish rebels, and destroying the Jewish city of Joppa, Gallus’ army pushed up into the Judean hills from the coastal plain. It was October and the time of the Jewish Feast of the Tabernacles when the Roman force arrived outside Jerusalem, having lost five hundred men to harrying partisans over the last days of the march.

Pitching camp on Mount Scopus overlooking Jerusalem, Gallus did nothing for three days, hoping the rebels would surrender. When this did not eventuate, he set fire to the Bezetha region of the city, forcing the Jews to retreat into the old city. For five days, the Roman army attacked the city walls. Then, to the amazement of the defenders, Gallus packed up and marched his army away. Josephus would claim that bribery played a part in the Roman withdrawal. Day after day, tens of thousands of Jewish partisans pursued the withdrawing Romans, attacking them along the entire length of the column.

Only by discarding his heavy baggage and by leaving 400 volunteers at the hill village of Beth-horon on a suicide mission to delay the Jews was Gallus able to escape with the majority of his men. The Jews pursued the badly mauled Roman column as far west as the town of Antipatris. When the bloodied Roman force arrived back in Caesarea and counted its losses, they found that 5,300 infantry and 380 mounted troops had been lost. The Jewish losses, meanwhile, had been minor. And the rebels still held Jerusalem and most of Judea, Galilee, and Idumaea.

Nero was wintering in Greece when the staggering news of Gallus’ defeat reached him that December. In addition to the numerical losses, Nero learned that several senior officers including the commander of the 6th Ferrata Legion had been killed during the botched operation. The rebels had also captured the column’s wagon train, inclusive of much war matériel, particularly Roman artillery. Worst of all, in the eyes of all Romans, the sacred golden eagle standard of the 12th Fulminata Legion had been captured by the rebels. For a legion, there was no greater disgrace. Cestius Gallus was also dead. Some said that he had perished of natural causes once he was back in Caesarea; others said that he had died of shame. It was even suggested that he had committed suicide.

Nero was shaken by this defeat. Calling in Titus Vespasian, who was in the emperor’s large entourage, Nero gave him the task of putting down the Jewish Revolt. Vespasian immediately set off overland for Syria to take command there. At the same time, Vespasian’s son Titus sailed for Egypt with orders to lead legionaries and auxiliaries based in Alexandria up to Judea to join Vespasian’s new army for the counteroffensive.

Initial news of the revolt at Jerusalem had sponsored similar uprisings among other Jewish communities throughout the Roman world, particularly in Egypt, which a million Jews called home. In Alexandria and at Antioch, capital of Syria and home to forty thousand Jews, Roman troops brutally put down the unrest. Many Jews were killed in street fighting; others were thrown into jail. Nero, made furious by Gallus’ failure and the humiliating Roman defeat in Judea, appears to have issued orders for all Jewish prisoners in Roman custody throughout the empire to be summarily executed. This would account for why the apostles Paul and Peter would be executed early in AD 67.

Christian tradition puts Peter’s death on February 22. As a noncitizen, he was crucified. At his own request, he was crucified upside down. His slow death on a cross would have taken place on a roadside beyond the city walls. One Christian tradition puts that road in the Vatican Valley, another, on the Janiculum Hill. After Peter’s death, according to one Christian legend, Peter’s body was for a time interred in the tomb of a Roman senator named Marcellus.

According to Christian tradition, too, Paul was executed several months later. Because of his Roman citizenship, he was decapitated with a sword. The fifty-seven-year-old balding, bearded Paul is said to have been marched from Rome in chains and taken by a squad of Praetorians three miles down the Via Appia to the natural spa of Aqua Salviea. In the Glade of the Tombs, he was forced to his knees before the centurion in charge lopped off his head. In the Roman scheme of things, the deaths of Peter and Paul did not figure at all. No one in the Roman world could imagine that within the span of 250 years, the church that these two Jews helped found would become the official faith of Rome.

Other disturbing news had reached Nero’s ears from Helius, his deputy at Rome. Annius Vinicianus, Corbulo’s impetuous son-in-law, had been linked to a new plot against Nero at Rome. The implication was that the conspirators intended to put Corbulo on Nero’s throne. The Scribonius brothers, who did everything in public and private life together—they had jointly governed the two Roman provinces of Germany and had jointly put down riots in the port of Puteoli—were also linked to this plot, perhaps as patrons of Vinicianus. Nero’s response to Helius’ accusations was crafty. Early in the new year, he sent cordial invitations to Corbulo and the Scribonius brothers to join him at Corinth in Achaia, where he would be competing in the Isthmian Games come the spring.

As soon as the sailing season for AD 67 opened in the spring, Corbulo sailed from Syria to Achaia in answer to the emperor’s invitation. Corbulo would have been expecting to lead Nero’s planned Caspian Gates operation. To give the latest Judean offensive every opportunity of success, Nero had authorized Vespasian to draw on units based in Syria and Egypt—units that had been earmarked for the Caspian Gates and Ethiopian expeditions, both of which were now put on hold. Corbulo, unaware that his son-in-law was in trouble at Rome, came to Achaia no doubt expecting to discuss the future of the Caspian Gates operation with Nero.

On landing at Cenchreae, the port that served Corinth, Corbulo was met by Praetorian troops who advised him to take his own life at once, for the sake of his family, or they would do it for him. Up until this time, Nero had never considered Corbulo a rival to his throne, because of the general’s lowly background and apparently unswerving loyalty. Now, although there was not a shred of evidence against him, Corbulo had been found guilty by association.

Corbulo, who was said to curse because he had failed to bring bodyguard troops with him to Achaia, was determined to die a soldier’s death. Drawing a sword, he exclaimed, “You are worthy of this!” a phrase usually called to triumphants when they took theirTriumph.¹¹ He plunged the sword into his heart.

When the Scribonius brothers arrived in Greece, they were likewise forced to take their own lives. Nero, meanwhile, was competing in the Isthmian Games at Corinth and taking off the winners’ pine-leaf wreaths for verse, song, and charioteering. Now, too, he entered the contests for heralds and was awarded the prizes for those as well. Since his initial successes at Olympia, he had also taken to acting in Greek tragedies, even taking female roles—no women appeared on the Roman stage, and as was the case even in Shakespeare’s time, men played the roles of female characters. In one play, Nero played the role of a pregnant woman. In another, playing Hercules, he dressed in rags and wore manacles as the part required—a horrified soldier of the German Cohorts bodyguard, seeing his emperor in chains, rushed up to set him free.

Nero also initiated the Corinth Canal, linking the Aegean and Ionian seas, a project envisioned by Julius Caesar. Nero personally turned the first sod. Prisoners then commenced digging the canal, which would be abandoned on Nero’s death. Work on Nero’s canal would resume in modern times; it was completed in 1893. Once Nero had won his final event at Corinth, he stood in the crowded stadium and delivered a speech in which he announced that the entire province of Achaia would, from that day forward, be free of taxation. This was the province’s reward for accepting him as a performer.

In the summer of AD 67, Nero moved on to Delphi, to compete in the Pythian Games, which ran over three months. Since the eighth century BC, Delphi had been famous as the seat of the Oracle of Delphi, at the sanctuary of Apollo on the slopes of Mount Parnassus. Seeking a personal prediction, Nero went through the usual ritual entailed in a visit to the oracle, who was a priestess called the Pythia. Up the zigzag Sacred Way the emperor climbed, bringing a black sheep to be sacrificed in the forecourt of the Temple of Apollo, which was administered by two senior priests, serving in an honorary role accorded leading Greeks of the day. Later this same century, the historian Plutarch would be one of those priests.

As Nero made his way up the road, he paused at the sanctuary’s treasury to deposit a gift of four hundred thousand sesterces in gold. Every year, the shrine of Delphi attracted countless pilgrims seeking prophesies. All pilgrims were expected to make a donation, and the larger the gift, the more likely they were to be found a place toward the head of the usually long line. The emperor of Rome did not have to join a line.

Down well-trodden steps went Nero, into a cavern beneath the Temple of Apollo. The role of the Pythia was shared in rotation by three priestesses chosen specially for their gifts. Between spring and autumn each year, the Pythia on duty sat on a three-legged seat above a fissure in the rocks from which rose “the sacred vapor”; modern-day scientists believe this was any one of several naturally occurring mildly hallucinogenic gases. In answer to the applicant’s question, the Pythia would go into a trancelike state and provide a cryptic reply, originally in rhyming verse but in later times in prose, which was written down by an assistant.

The question that Nero put to the Pythia was a secret, but according to Cassius Dio, the emperor was so dissatisfied with the response, he abolished the oracle, “after slaying some people and throwing them into the fissure from which the sacred vapor rose.”¹²There is no record in any other source of either event, and the Oracle of Delphi would continue to issue her prophesies until AD 393, when Rome’s Christian emperor Theodosius I ordered all pagan temples closed across the empire. Dio also claimed that Nero, in his dissatisfaction, had the territory of Cirrha, the port town that served and was controlled by Delphi, taken away and “given to the soldiers”—Nero’s Praetorian escort, apparently.¹³

Suetonius’ earlier account disagrees with Dio; according to the former, Nero was pleased by the Oracle’s prediction, which, Suetonius claimed, warned the young emperor to beware of the seventy-third year. Nero, believing this to refer to his own seventy-third year, felt that his problems were still many years away. The Oracle, said Suetonius, was actually referring to Nero’s ultimate successor, Galba, who was seventy-three years old.¹ The only problem with that story was the fact that on December 24, AD 67, Galba turned just seventy.

In addition to footraces and other physical events held at the sanctuary of Apollo’s stadium, the Pythian Games included competitions for singers, poets, and heralds, in the sanctuary’s theater. There were also horse and chariot races, held in a hippodrome down on the Plain of Crissa. Even today, it is possible to sit on the upper terraces of the Theater at Delphi, which is built into the mountainside, and enjoy a commanding view out over the plain where the equestrian events were held. At Delphi, Nero won the victor’s bay laurel wreath, time and again.

Nero was at last living the artistic life to which he had aspired. Meanwhile, his empire was crumbling around him.

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