At my entreaties, the Jews finally lowered a basket from the wall and pulled me up in it. I was so frightened in the swaying basket that I managed to pull the arrow out of my heel without feeling any pain. The barbs, however, stuck in the wound, which soon began to fester, and on my return to the camp I had to seek the help of the field surgeon, roaring with pain as a result, which is probably why I have been lame ever since. My previous experience with field surgeons had been bad enough and should have been a warning to me. But those scars were my only hope. After venting their anger at my Roman attire, they at last gave me an opportunity to explain that I was circumcised and a convert to Judaism. This they at once confirmed, after which they treated me somewhat better. But I do not like to remember the Parthian centurion, dressed as a Jew, and his fierce interrogation to determine my identity and the truth of my story before he considered he could hand me over to the real Jews, I shall only mention that torn-out thumbnails grow again quite quickly. I know that from experience. My thumbnails however were not counted as service merit. In such cases military regulations are absurd, for I had much more trouble from my thumbnails than from my excursions around the walls within range of the catapults. Such things are counted as service merits.
To the fanatics’ Council I could produce a testimonial and a secret authority to negotiate from the Julius Caesar synagogue. These valuable papers I had hidden in my clothes and had naturally not shown to Vespasian, for I had been given them in confidence. The Parthian could not read them either, for they were written in the sacred language of the Jews and sealed with the Star of David.
The Council of the synagogue, which is still the most influential in Rome, told in their letter of the great service I had rendered to the Jewry of Rome during the persecution after the revolt in Jerusalem. As one of my services, they mentioned the execution of Paul and Cephas, for they knew that the Jews in Jerusalem hated these plague-spreaders as much as they themselves did. The Council was eager for information of what had happened in Rome, for they had not had any definite news for several months, save for bits received via a few Egyptian pigeons. Titus had tried to stop these too, with trained hawks, and others had had their necks wrung by the starving populace of Jerusalem before they reached the pigeon loft in the temple with their messages.
505
For safety’s sake I did not reveal that I was a Roman senator, saying that I was an influential knight so that the Jews should not be too tempted. Naturally I assured them that as a new convert, which they could see from my scars, I wished to do everything I could for Jerusalem and the Holy Temple. Thus I had joined Vespasian and his troops as a tribune and let him believe that I could acquire information for him from Jerusalem. The arrow in my heel was sheer bad luck, and the patrol’s attempt to catch me was a cunning feigned attack to bluff the Jews.
My openness made such an impression on the Council that they believed me, as far as is possible in conditions of war. I was allowed to move freely in the city, protected by bearded guards with burning eyes, of whom I was, in fact, more afraid than of the starving inhabitants of the city. I was allowed in the temple, too, as I had been circumcised. So I am one of the last people to have seen the temple of Jerusalem from inside in all its incredible splendor.
With my own eyes I could assure myself that the seven-branched gold candlesticks, the golden vessels and the golden shrewbread were still in their places. They alone were worth an immense fortune, but no one seemed to give a thought to hiding them away. To such an extent did these insane fanatics trust in the sanctity of the temple and their Almighty God. However unbelievable it may sound to a sensible person they had not dared use more than a faction of the immense treasures of the temple to purchase arms and fortifications. The Jews preferred to work themselves to the bone without pay rather than touch the temple treasures, which lay hidden in the middle of the mountain behind armored doors. The whole of the temple mountain is like a hollowed-out honeycomb with its myriad quarters for pilgrims and numerous underground passages. But no one can hide anything so well that no one can find it, provided that more than one man does the hiding and that the hiding place is known to many.
I found this out later when I ferreted out Tigellinus’ secret archives. I thought it important that they should be destroyed for the sake of the authority of the Senate, for in them the political views and personal habits of many members of our oldest families were revealed in a strange light, foolish men who were able to get the people to demand that Tigellinus should be thrown to the wild animals. He would have been incomparably more dangerous dead than alive if his records had fallen into the hands of an unscrupulous person.
506
Pages: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54 55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62 63 64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71 72 73 74 75 76 77 78 79 80 81 82 83 84 85 86 87 88 89 90 91 92 93 94 95 96 97 98 99 100 101 102 103 104 105 106 107 108 109 110 111 112 113 114 115 116 117 118 119 120 121 122 123 124 125 126 127 128 129 130 131 132 133 134 135 136 137 138 139 140 141 142 143 144 145 146 147 148 149 150 151 152 153 154 155 156 157 158 159 160 161 162 163 164 165 166 167 168 169 170 171 172 173 174 175 176 177 178 179 180 181 182 183 184 185 186 187 188 189 190 191 192 193 194 195 196 197 198 199 200 201 202 203 204 205 206 207 208 209 210 211 212 213 214 215 216 217 218 219 220 221 222 223 224 225 226 227 228 229 230 231 232 233 234 235 236 237 238 239 240 241 242 243 244 245 246 247 248 249 250 251 252 253 254 255 256 257 258 259 260 261 262 263 264 265 266 267 268 269 270