by Mika Waltari
Why do I keep postponing my story time and time again? It is like having a tooth extracted. Swiftly and speedily, Minutus, and then it is over. And I am not guilty. I did everything I could for them, and no man can do more than that. No power on earth could have saved the lives of Paul and Cephas. Cephas returned to Rome of his own free will, although he could well have gone into hiding through the worst time.
I know that nowadays everyone uses Cephas’ Latin name, Petrus, but I prefer to use his old name which is dear to me. Petrus is a translation of Cephas, which means rock and which name he received from Jesus of Nazareth. I don’t know why. Cephas was no rock in mind; indeed, he was a rough and touchy man who on some occasions behaved in a cowardly way. He even denied all knowledge of Jesus of Nazareth on that last night, and in Antioch he behaved anything but courageously in face of Jacob’s representative who regarded it as a crime against the Jewish laws that he ate with the uncircumcised. But all the same, Cephas was an unforgettable person, or perhaps because of this. How can one know?
It is said of Paul now that he had taken the name Sergius Paulus because Sergius, who was governor of Cyprus, was the most important man he converted. That is quite without foundation. Paul changed his name from Saul long before he met Sergius and only because in Greek it means the insignificant one, the worthless one, just as does my own name Minutus in Latin.
When my father gave me my despicable name, he could have had no idea that he was making me Paul’s namesake. Perhaps it was in part my name which made me begin to write down these memoirs, to show that I am not quite such an insignificant man as I seem. The main reason, however, is because I am here at this resort, drinking mineral water, the physicians watching over my stomach trouble, and at first I could not find any other outlet to satisfy my need for activity. I also thought that you might find it useful to know at least something about your father when you one day come to wall in my ashes in the tomb in Caere.
During Cephas’ and Paul’s long imprisonment, I saw to it that they were well treated, and I arranged for them to meet and talk together, if under guard. As dangerous public enemies they had to be imprisoned in Tullianum, away from the anger of the people. That is not an especially healthy place, although Tullianum naturally has glorious traditions of many hundreds of years’ standing. Jugurtha was strangled there, and there too Vercingetorix’ head was crushed, and Catilina’s friends lost their lives there, and Sejanus’ little daughter was violated there before her execution as the laws prescribe, since Romans never execute a virgin.
Paul seemed to fear a painful death, but in such cases Nero was not small-minded, although he was angry about the Jewish rebellion and regarded all Jewish agitators as to blame for it. Paul was a citizen and had a legal right to be executed by the sword, a right the judges did not question at his last trial. Cephas was sentenced to be crucified according to the law, although I had no wish to inflict such a death on an old man and a friend of my father’s.
I made sure that I could accompany them on their last journey on the fresh summer morning they were taken away to be executed. I had arranged that no other Jews should be crucified at the same time. There were constant crowds on the execution places because of the Jews, but I wanted Paul and Cephas to be allowed to die alone with dignity.
At the road fork to Ostia I had to choose with whom I should go, for it had been decided that Paul would be taken to the same gate at which my father and Tullia had been executed. The judges had ordained that Cephas be taken through the Jewish quarter of the city as a warning and then crucified on the execution place for slaves near Nero’s amphitheater.
Paul was accompanied by his friend the physician Lucas, and I knew Paul would not be offended, for he was a citizen. Cephas needed my protection much more, and I feared too for his companions, Marcus and Linus. So I chose Cephas.
I need not have worried about demonstrations from the Jews. Apart from a few lumps of clay, Cephas had nothing thrown at him. The Jews were very Jewish, and despite their bitter hatred, contented themselves with silently watching a Jewish agitator being taken away to be crucified because of the rebellion in Jerusalem. Cephas had the usual plaque around his neck on which was inscribed in Greek and Latin: Simon Petrus from Capernaum, Galilean, enemy of the people and mankind.
When we had left the city and reached the gardens, the heat began to be oppressive. I saw beads of sweat running down Cephas’ wrinkled forehead and ordered the crossbar of the cross to be taken from him and given to an approaching Jew to carry. The soldiers had a right to do this. I then told Cephas to join me in my sedan for the last stretch, without a thought for the talk this would give rise to afterwards.
But Cephas would not have been Cephas if he had not brusquely replied that he could carry the cross on his broad shoulders to the very end without help. He did not want to sit at my side but preferred, he said, to feel the dust of the road beneath his feet for the last time, and the heat of the sun on his head, in the same way as he had felt them long ago when he had traveled with Jesus of Nazareth along the paths of Galilee. He did not even wish the rope by which he was being led to be loosened, but said that Jesus of Nazareth had foretold this and he did not want to bring shame on the prophecy. Nevertheless he leaned wearily on his worn shepherd’s stave.
When we reached the execution place, which was stinking in the heat of the sun, I asked Cephas if he would like to be scourged first This was a merciful measure to hasten on death, although many barbarians misunderstand this. Cephas replied that scourging would not be necessary, for he had his own plans, but then he changed his mind and said humbly that he would like to go to the end in the same way as many witnesses had before him. Jesus of Nazareth had also been scourged.
But he was in no hurry. I saw a brief smile in his eyes as he turned to his companions, Marcus and Linus.
“Listen, both of you,” he said. “Listen, Marcus, although I have repeated the same thing to you many times before. Listen too, Minutus, if you wish to. Jesus said, ‘The kingdom of God is as when a man sows a seed in the earth, and sleeps and rises, nights and days, and the seed germinates and grows, but he himself does not know how. From the earth, the seed brings forth by itself first the straw, then the ear and then fills the ear with the corn. But when the seed is ripe, he sends the reaper, for then the harvest time has come.’”
He shook his head incredulously, with tears of joy in his eyes, and he laughed joyously.
“And I, foolish creature that I am,” he cried, “did not understand, although I constantly repeated his words. Now I understand at last. The seed is ripe and the reaper is here.”
With a glance at me, he blessed Linus, and passed him his worn stave.
“Watch over my sheep,” he said.
It was as if he wished me to see this and be witness to it. Then he humbly turned to the soldiers, who tied him to a pole and began to scourge him.
Despite his great strength, he could not refrain from groaning. At the lashes of the scourge and the sound of his voice, one of the Jews who had been crucified the day before awoke from his death throes, opened his feverish eyes so that the flies rose, and recognized Cephas, and even then could not refrain from mocking Jesus of Nazareth’s statement that he was Christ. But Cephas was in no mood for discussion.
Instead he told the soldiers, after the scourging, that he should be crucified with his head downward. He did not feel worthy of the honor of being crucified with his head facing heaven as his Lord Jesus, the Son of God, had been. I had to hide a smile.
To the very end Cephas remained the genuine Cephas, whose sound fisherman’s sense was needed to build the kingdom. I realized why Jesus of Nazareth had loved him. In that moment, I loved him myself. It is incomparably easier for an old man to die if he is crucified upside down so that the blood runs to his head and bursts his veins. A merciful unconsciousness will then save him from many hours of suffering.
The soldiers burst out laughing and gladly agreed to his request, for they realized that i
n this way they would escape guard duty in the heat. As he hung on the cross, Cephas opened his mouth and seemed to attempt to sing something, although I thought he had no great cause to do so.
I asked Marcus what it was that Cephas was trying to say. Marcus told me that Cephas was singing a psalm in which God was leading his faithful to green meadows and refreshing springs. To my joy, Cephas did not have to wait long for his green meadows. After he had lost consciousness, we waited for a while as his body writhed and jerked, and then, impatient with the smell and the flies, I told the centurion to do his duty. He had a soldier break Cephas’ shinbone with a sharp-edged board and himself thrust his sword into Cephas’ neck as he jokingly said that this was slaughter in the Jewish way, in which the blood must be let out before life has gone. A great deal of blood flowed out of the old man. Marcus and Linus promised to see to it that his body was buried in what is now an unused burial ground behind the amphitheater not far away. Linus wept, but Marcus had already wept his tears and was an even-tempered and reliable man. He retained his calm, but his eyes were looking into another world which I could not see.
You must be wondering why I chose to go with Cephas rather than Paul. Paul was at least a Roman citizen and Cephas only an old Jewish fisherman. Perhaps my behavior shows that I do not always act in my own self-interest. Personally I liked Cephas better because he was a sincere and simple man, and in addition, Claudia would never have permitted me to abandon them on their last journey. I do anything for peace at home.
Later I quarreled with Lucas when he demantled to see the Aramaic story which I had inherited from my father and which was written by a customs official, I did not give it to him. Lucas had had two years to talk to eyewitnesses while Paul was in prison in Caesarea in Proconsul Felix* time. I did not think I owed him anything.
Lucas was not such a skilled physician either, although he had studied in Alexandria. I should never have let him treat my own stomach complaint. I suspect that he followed Paul so eagerly because of Paul’s faith-healing, either to learn this art himself or with humble insight into his own shortcomings as a physician. But he could write, though only in the dialect of the market, not in educated Greek.
I have always liked Marcus very much, but Linus, who is younger, has become even dearer to me with the years. In spite of everything, I have been forced to put the Christians’ internal affairs in some kind of order, both for their own sake and to escape official trouble. Cephas in his time introduced certain divisions according to tribes and tried to reconcile their internal quarrels, but an ignorant man such as he cannot possess any real political ability.
I have paid for Cletus’ legal training, in memory of his brave conduct in the Praetorian camp. Perhaps one day he will succeed in establishing satisfactory order among the Christians. Then you would be able to get political support from them. But I have no great hopes of litem. They are what they are.
I am stronger now and the physicians are hopeful. Soon I shall return to Rome from this sulphurous resort, of which I am heartily tired. Naturally I have been keeping an eye on my most important affairs, though the physicians have been unaware of this. But it will be wonderful to taste good wine again, and after all this fasting and water drinking, I shall value the skills of my two cooks more than before. So I will hurry on now, as the worst is over.
When I heard about Julius Vindex’ secret ventures as propraetor, I read the signs of the times without hesitating. I had already realized long before that Piso could have succeeded if only his conceit had not made him despise the support of the legions. After the sudden deaths of Corbulo and Ostarius, the legion commantlers at last began to awaken from their slumber and understand that neither military honors nor unconditional loyalty would save anyone from Nero’s caprices. I had seen this when I left Corinth.
I hurriedly began to sell my property through my bankers and freedmen and to collect cash in gold pieces. Naturally these deals, the reason for which many sensible men did not yet realize, attracted attention among those better informed. I had nothing against that, for I was relying entirely on Nero’s ignorance in money matters.
My actions aroused a certain anxiety in Rome, for the prices of apartments and also of country properties fell considerably. I sold more properties recklessly, although the money is safe in the soil and even makes a profit as long as the cultivation is in the hands of reliable freedmen. I did not bother about the falling prices but went on selling and collecting cash. I knew that one day, if I succeeded in my plan, I should retrieve it all again. The anxiety caused by my activities made financiers reassess the political situation, and in this way I also helped on a good thing.
I sent Claudia and you to my property near Caere and for once made Claudia listen to me and stay there in safety until I sent for her again. As your third birthday was approaching, your mother was very busy. You were not a good boy, and to speak frankly I was tired of your constant running about and noise. As soon as I turned my back, you either fell into a pond or cut yourself. So this too meant I was pleased to go on my journey to secure your future. Because of Claudia, I could not form your character and had to rely on your heredity. Genuine self-discipline always rises from within, and cannot be forced from outside.
It was not difficult to get permission from the Senate and Nero to leave the city and go to Vespasian as his adviser on Jewish matters. On the contrary, I was praised for my willingness to do my best for the State. Nero himself thought that some trustworthy person should keep an eye on Vespasian and get him moving, for he suspected Vespasian of loitering unnecessarily outside the walls of Jerusalem.
As I was a senator, a warship was put at my disposal. Many of my colleagues probably wondered why such a comfort-loving man as myself was content to sleep in a hammock at night, not to mention the wretched food, cramped space and eternal lice of the fleet.
But I had my own reasons. I was so relieved to have at last got my twenty heavy iron chests on board ship that I slept like a log the first night, until the tramp of bare feet on deck woke me. I had three faithful freedmen with me, who took turns in guarding my chests, as well as the usual military guard.
In Caere, I had also armed my slaves, trusting in their loyalty to me. I was not disappointed. Otho’s soldiers did plunder my farm and smash my collection of Greek jars, the value of which they did not realize, but they did not harm either you or Claudia, and this was due to my slaves. There are still innumerable unopened graves in the ground, so I can probably replace my collection of jars.
Fortunately we had good weather, for the autumn storms had not yet begun. I hurried on the journey as much as I could by distributing extra rations of food and wine to the galley slaves at my own expense, however mad this seemed to the naval centurion who relied more on his whip and knew that he could easily replace any slaves he lost en route with Jewish prisoners. I had other reasons. I think one can make people do what one wants with good rather than evil. But I have always been unnecessarily softhearted, as my father was. Remember that I have never once struck you, my insubordinate son. How could I possibly strike a future Emperor?
To pass the time I asked many questions about the fleet during the journey. Among other things I was told why marines, both on board and ashore, had to go barefooted. This I had not known before, but I have wondered about it sometimes. I thought it had something to do with seamanship.
Now I learned how Emperor Claudius had once in the amphitheater been angry when some marines from Ostia, spreading out a sunshade above the spectators’ seats in the middle of a performance, began to demand compensation from him for the marching shoes they had worn out on the way there. So Claudius forbade the use of shoes in the entire fleet and ever since then his orders have been faithfully obeyed. We Romans respect our traditions.
Later on I happened to mention the matter to Vespasian, but he considers it best for the seamen to continue barefoot since they are used to it. It has not done them any harm hitherto. “Why create more expenses in the already hug
e naval budget?” he said. Thus naval centurions still consider it an honor to go barefooted on duty, although they like to wear soft parade boots on their feet during leaves on shore.
It was a great weight off my mind when I eventually put my valuable chests in the keeping of a well-known banker in Caesarea, safe from the dangers of the sea. Bankers have to trust one another, or no reasonable business life would be possible. Thus I trusted this man although
I knew him only through letters. But his father had in my father’s youth been my father’s banker in Alexandria or had at least sold him travel documents. So we were in a way business friends.
Caesarea was at peace in the sense that the Greek inhabitants had taken the opportunity to kill the city’s Jews, women and small children as well. So there was no trace of the revolt to be seen in the city, except considerable shipping activity and guarded mule caravans carrying equipment to the legions outside Jerusalem. Joppa and Caesarea were the two most important harbors supporting Vespasian.
On the way to Vespasian’s camp outside Jerusalem, I saw how hopeless the situation was for the Jewish civilians who were still left. The Samaritans had also joined in and had cleared their decks. The legionaries themselves did not differentiate between Galileans and Samaritans and Jews in general. Fertile Galilee with its million inhabitants was devastated, to the lasting injury of the Roman kingdom. Of course it did not officially belong to us but had been handed over to Herodes Agrippa to rule because of old ties of friendship.
I took this matter up first when I met Vespasian and Titus. They received me wholeheartedly, for they were curious to know what was happening in Gaul and Rome. Vespasian told me that the legionaries were angry about the fierce resistance the Jews were offering and that they had suffered severe losses from fanatics attacking the roads from their hiding places in the mountains. He had been forced to give his commantlers authority to create peace in the countryside, and a punitive expedition was on its way to destroy one of the Jewish strongpoints by the Dead Sea. Arrows had been shot from the towers and according to reliable sources, injured fanatics had sought refuge there.