To the Death (24 page)

Settled in a comfortable chair, Vespasian unrolled the scroll he had received earlier in the day. Military intelligence was prized by Vespasian, who spent time and money gathering it. Taking a sip from the goblet next to his elbow, he commenced reading.

There is,
he read,
Upper and Lower Galilee, bordered by Syria and Phoenicia. To the west lies Ptolemais and Mount Carmel. Galilee's southern border is created by Samaritus and Scythopolis as far as the tributaries of the Jordan River; the start of the kingdom of King Agrippa. Beyond Galilee's northern frontier lies Tyre. Lower Galilee runs from Tiberius to Ptolemais on the coast, which extends to the great plain. Encircled by powerful foreign neighbour, the two Galilees, in spite of having been frequently attacked, have never been fully conquered. Galileans are renowned as warriors, and the land they defend so fiercely has rich soil and an abundance of water. As a result of these twin blessings, they produce an abundance of every kind of crop. All types of trees are easily grown, including olives and grapevines. Lush grasslands provide grazing for large herds of cows that support its substantial diary industries and the region has grown wealthy by the selling of its agricultural surpluses. The capital of Galilee is Sepphoris, more Greek than Jew, and as a consequence very pro-Roman. This would make an excellent HQ for the Galilee campaign. Its Roman garrison is commanded by the tribune Placidus.

Vespasian, satisfied with what he had read, had begun to plan his campaign. His first act would be to strengthen the garrison at Sepphoris with one thousand cavalry and six thousand infantry. Eventually, this combined force would successfully overrun their immediate neighbours and in doing so inflict severe losses on Josephus' supporters.

In the coming months, Vespasian would wage a war of fire and sword
from one end of Galilee to the other. Fire and sword spared nothing and nobody. Any town or village that failed to surrender immediately was destroyed, its population killed or enslaved and the town burnt to the ground.

A year after arriving in Judaea, Vespasian was sitting on his horse at the edge of the desert contemplating his next move. The raw smell of hot dust was in the air. The air was so dry that mucus in the nose dried to a crust. Vespasian cleared his throat and spat. He was eager to begin. Behind him his army was arranged in conventional order. The foreign auxiliaries, mostly Arab, formed the rear guard, a mixture of mounted and foot archers. Their orders were to defend against an enemy suddenly attacking from ambush. They were also responsible for reconnoitring woods and ravines, dried up river beds – anywhere the enemy could conceal itself.

After the auxiliaries came a mounted body of heavily armed and armoured Roman legionaries, followed by ten men from every
century
, carrying the tools necessary to mark out the site chosen for the evening's camp. In close attendance marched the pioneer corps, who would build the road ahead, grading rough surfaces and felling obstructive trees. These were followed by the personal baggage of Vespasian and his senior officers, guarded by a picked cavalry contingent, behind which rode Vespasian himself, closely supported by a bodyguard of soldiers armed with javelins.

Next came the cavalry. This was followed by a mule train that transported the battering rams and artillery. Behind them came the generals, the prefects of the
cohorts
and the
tribune
s. Protecting the leadership was a massive bodyguard of elite soldiers. Finally came the legions' standards surrounding the eagle, which was an effigy cast in pure gold and mounted on a pole. The King of Birds, symbol of the Empire – sacred emblem of Rome - to be defended to the death.

It was followed by the trumpeters and the whole army marching six men abreast, shoulder to shoulder, with centurions who maintained the formation. The servants of each legion followed. They had the task of looking after the baggage carried by the mules. Bringing up the rear were the mercenaries and, finally, a protective rear-guard of heavy infantry and a double troop of cavalry.

Unsurprisingly, Vespasian's arrival in Galilee was without incident. Only a fool would have challenged the might of his army. That first evening and the following days were occupied by the building of a substantial fort. It also gave the Romans an opportunity for a show of force. The legions marched and counter marched in perfect formation. The archers darkened the sky with a veritable blizzard of arrows and the infantry demonstrated its ability to put twenty thousand javelins into a targeted area with a single throw. Meanwhile the cavalry thundered over the plain casting lances of their own, before unsheathing their cavalry swords, the
spatha
, a straight double edged blade a meter long with a specially rounded tip. The latter was to prevent the accidental stabbing your own foot or thigh and being flung off your horse. The double edged blade enabled the rider to swing and chop on either side of his mount simply by swinging his arm from side to side.

Orchestrating these different forces through their complex manoeuvres, conveying vital information – military orders - to every man on the field of battle, was achieved by the use of trumpets, the
cornicons
. A Roman commander, observing the way a battle was developing, needed to respond by not just moving his troops about the field, but doing it selectively if his troop deployments were to be effective amid the tremendous noise that any battle created and the inevitable clouds of dust that filled the air. As thousands of men and animals often milled about in a relatively small space, the human voice could go unheard. Signal flags were often obscured or only partially glimpsed. But the piercing blast of the
cornicons
reached every ear, different orders conveyed in the prescribed sequencing of notes blaring out. The disciplined squares turned as one, reformed, reshaped, changed direction. Tired fighters at the front stepped sideways and backwards. Fresh men took their place - a manoeuvre of inestimable value in a battle that could last all day. This manoeuvre also allowed precious water to be supplied to fighters struggling in hot, dusty conditions.

Vespasian knew there would be hidden watchers. This show of force was designed to give them second thoughts. To make them ask the question, did they really want to face this enemy on the field of battle?

Among those secretly watching eyes, had been some of Josephus' men. They had journeyed from Josephus' camp pitched not far from Sepphoris. When they reported back, Josephus lost half of his force to desertion. Disappointed and angry, Josephus knew that he no longer had enough men to challenge the enemy.

Worse still, he knew from the mutterings in the camp that many of his troops would ask for terms if they got the chance.

23

I
n
Jerusalem John's men spread the word that, in a bid to stay in power, Ananus had sent emissaries to Rome to parlay for peace; a deal that would keep the High Priest of all Israel and the city's ruling class in power. As John plotted to take control of Jerusalem, he accused Ananus of betraying the people. He then turned his attention to the rank and file of the priesthood, persuading many that Ananus had betrayed them. John also wrote to the Idumaeans, claiming that Ananus was a traitor who, in a bid to stay in office, was secretly negotiating to hand over the country and the Holy City to the Romans.

John's men we so persuasive in spreading the lie of Ananus' treachery, they even convinced Simon ben Gioras. Even so, John was skating on thin ice. Appealing to the Idumaeans was a risky business.

John's recruiting of Gioras to ask the Idumaeans for assistance was a masterpiece of duplicity. Gioras' envoys to the Idumaeans would claim that the forces of evil, in the form of Ananus and the priests loyal to him, had formed an alliance with the city's ruling classes. To save their own skins and cling onto power, they were prepared to surrender the Holy City to the Romans.

The Idumaeans, in spite of a blood relationship uniting them to the Jews, had a history of resentment. Southern Judaea had been settled by the Edomites, an Arab people, who had taken over all of southern Palestine making Hebron their capital. When the Israelites had won back all of these gains they allowed them to remain in the country on the condition that they converted to Judaism.

Gioras, ever distrustful of John, had reasoned that if he agreed to manage the negotiations to the Idumaeans, he could turn it to his advantage. In the event of relationships becoming strained at some point in the future, he would be remembered by the Idumaeans as the person who had promoted their interests. Knowing the nature of the Idumaeans, Gioras was confident they would agree. As a race they were fiery by nature; resentful of discipline but susceptible to flattery; ready to take up arms at the merest suggestion of offence.

The two envoys were chosen for their political skills. Both were fluent and persuasive speakers. The Idumaeans, who had been monitoring the war, were deeply angered by what was taking place in Jerusalem. They were a receptive audience and voted overwhelmingly to give their support to the rebels.

Meanwhile Ananus, unaware that envoys had been sent to what he regarded as an old enemy, was horrified when he learned that the Idumaeans had decided to side with the Zealots. With the Idumaeans on their way, he barely had time to close and bar the city entrances and post extra men on the wall, when their army of twenty five thousand horse and foot arrived at Jerusalem's gates.

The High Priest was desperate to try and defuse the situation. Fearing that he, personally, might not go down too well as an advocate for peace, he decided his deputy would make the appeal. So taking his stand on a tower facing the Idumaeans, Jeshua made his plea.

“God's Holy City is being fought over like a bone by dogs who have gathered the support of bandits and criminals. Godless scum, who have ravaged the whole country before entering the Holy City. Even as I speak, they carouse drunkenly in the sanctuary. If you had been invited by the city fathers to join us against an outside enemy, you would be welcome. What reason, what cause has brought you here? If it was the lie that we were going to sell God's City to the Romans, it is the peddler of this filthy treason, offensive in the sight of God that you should seek out. You are free to enter the city of God, though not by force, to see for yourselves that what I tell you is the truth. So called nationalists have entered the very heart of the nation - The Temple - which they have made their headquarters for their operations against us. Lay down your arms. Come into the city by right of kinship to serve as judges in this matter. But know that while you bear arms, these gates will remain shut.”

Jeshua's speech failed to persuade the Idumaean rank and file, who were angry at not being freely admitted. Simon, son of Cathla, one of their leaders, managed to silence the angry shouting of his men and addressed the priest. “You are willing to admit the Romans and deny your kin entry. We have of course” he said sarcastically “come to attack our own people, we who have answered the call to help you stay free. We Idumaeans will defend the house of God. We, the men you are excluding from our ancestral rights! We Idumaeans will defend the Temple and the city and fight for our common cause, resisting the enemy from without and the traitors within. We shall stay here as soldiers of God.”

This speech was wildly cheered by the Idumaeans, not that they were in any way appeased, boiling with anger at their reception and exclusion from the capital, bewildered that the zealots who had called them in had not come to their aid. They could not go home. The disgrace of doing nothing was unthinkable, so they settled down as best they could in a makeshift camp outside the city gates. During the night, a massive thunderstorm struck the city and the camp. Lightning flashed continuously and thunderclaps bursting repeatedly made speech impossible. Both the Idumaeans and the people in the city saw this as a portent of disaster, an omen that heralded a terrible catastrophe.

So the Idumaeans sheltered beneath their shields, waiting stoically for the storm to end, while the zealots met to discuss how they might help them. Eventually, under the cover of the storm, they forced the locks of the city gates and admitted the Idumaeans, whose first thoughts were to join forces with the zealots.

Once inside, their combined forces attacked Ananus' citizen army. In a nightmare scene, the two sides came together in the fractured dark. In desperate hand to hand combat, the war cries of the Idumaeans were echoed by the zealots. The thunderous noise, coming from all sides, was amplified by the raging storm. No-one was spared and any who begged for mercy by reminding the Idumaeans of ties of blood, were killed. Crushed by the shields of the advancing combined forces, Ananus' men were cut down by a vengeful enemy bent on their absolute destruction.

When dawn broke, a watery sun illuminated the outer court of the Temple, revealing its walls, pillars and floor running with the blood of the nine thousand who had perished in the battle.

After the briefest of respites, the Idumaeans turned on the city, looting and killing indiscriminately.

Ananus and his deputy Jeshua, unwilling to flee the Temple, died on their knees, calling on God to avenge them.

With the priests of Israel floating face down in blood, the Idumaeans and the zealots seemed to lose all reason. They fell on the population like wolves. Ordinary citizens were rounded up and murdered out of hand in frenzied attacks that were indifferent to age or gender. The wealthy of the city, along with its councillors and men of noble birth, were singled out for execution. Ten thousand of the city's best men died in this manner. Their bodies, refused to their families for burial, were left to putrefy in the streets.