Rome
The ship pulled out of the harbor turned and sailed northwest. They stopped briefly in Crete to take on fresh food and water and resumed straight for Ortias, the harbor closest to the city of Rome.
After several days in the bowels of the ship the men were aching from cramped quarters, nothing to sleep or sit on other than the wooden floor and sore to see sunlight and breathe open air. Larger groups of commoner prisoners had been put on board the larger but slower and less well armed troop carrier ships. The creaking rocking ship was far from a comfortable ride. The food was barely sufficient to keep them alive.
On the large Roman quadrireme galley along with the Roman soldiers and officers there was a Spanish officer and some of his soldiers. They were there to oversee the treatment of the special prize prisoners who were the “chosen price” of their king. They did not trust the Romans to be careful with these prisoners to have them reach their destination alive and whole.
Moshe, Zeira, Nahman and Shlomo were placed together in the same section of the hold. The rest of which was filled with about sixty other Hebrew prisoners.
“It’s been two weeks in this floating dank dark pest hole. The bread today already had green fur on it.”
“We can’t even take more than three steps in either direction because of these shackles on our wrists and ankles.”
“And due to the stench we cannot study holy matters any more either.”
“My young friends I agree with both of you. For none of us here it is comfortable or even reasonable. Yet must thank God that we are alive, that we are whole in body. Recall a moment the myriads who were so cruelly slaughtered, myriads who while left alive were so severely injured, left cripples who one may not know if they will be able to live, and what miserable lives are before them if they do.”
“You are so right wise Shlomo. You remind me too that back in Yafo port I saw another ship load of prisoners who were being whipped and beaten as they waited to go to their ship and as they were boarding. Many of them were obviously wounded as well.”
“Yes, Zeira, young prince, they are common folk of our people. They will have to be rowing the galley they are taken in as well.”
“Wise Nahman or Shlomo, what will be done with them? Do you know?”
“They are destined to be slaves to the Romans, or victims for gladiators or for their predator beasts in their coliseum. May God have mercy on their souls.”
“And we? What is this that I heard from the Centurion captain that we will be sent to Spain?”
“From what I understand the king of Spain gave his troops and war machines to the service of the Caesar with his demanded price being that the elite of Jerusalem’s populace be his prisoners. That is probably why a Spanish General and his aides are on this ship with us.
We are to be taken to Rome. There shown off in a triumph parade, and immediately after we will be sent to Spain. Whether by land or sea I have no idea. Though most likely by sea. This being so for besides the distance by land being great, there are mountain ranges between the state of Rome and Gaul, and again between Gaul and Spain.”
“General Hidalgos Ruiz de Catalan, I think we should pay attention to the food of our prisoners.”
“Why Garcia, is it that much more of a disaster than what we are getting to eat?”
“Likely sir. You see, they are refusing to eat even the small portions of meat offered to them and none of the gruel or soups.”
“Find me a translator and I will speak to one of their elders.”
“Yes sir.”
The general and his lieutenant along with the translator were led to the prisoners’ quarters. General Ruiz barked an order to one of the Roman soldiers who escorted them, “Bring a stool for me and for the old man so that I may speak with easily.”
When the two stools were brought he sat on one and signed to the old Hebrew to sit as well.
“Elder one fear not of our conversation. I wish to speak with you for the good of your people here with us. What is your name?”
“My holy parents of blessed memory granted me the name Nahman at my circumcision and this name has gone with me all my life.”
“How old are you?”
“With the creators kind grace I am 95 years of age.”
“Is this a joke? Who on earth gets to live so long? My grandfather who was renowned for his strength and longevity among our people only reached age 68.”
“Please do not be angry sir general. But among our people we have several who reach ages of 80 and more. With gracious God’s mercy my holy father was 107 when he passed from this material world to the spiritual world, and his father lived 114.”
“Amazing. Such advanced age must indeed be respected. My grandfather taught me that I will never go wrong honoring and giving respect to the old, especially if I ever meet someone older than the age he would live to. Tell me please why your people are refusing to eat what these damned Romans are giving you?”
“To put in briefly, our religious laws prohibit us to eat certain things, and only permits us to eat cooked food that is cooked or baked by one of us. The bread that we eat a little bit of, we eat only because it is baked in mass for the masses and without any fats or oils. Even so this permit to do eat it is solely because of the dearth of what else to keep us alive.”
“Nahman the elder, I understand and admire your people holding to your restrictions but here now you are all starving. Hunger is painful, weakening”
“General, as long as there is enough to remain alive and it is, with the Lord’s loving grace for a limited time, we make the effort for the sake of HIS holy name.”
“I have just begun to meet your people and I am already amazed, truly amazed. Elder, I wish to learn more about your people and your ways. Are you willing to when we can speak more in comfort to tell me more?”
“As you wish sir.”
The general stood and walked away back to his quarters. As he left he ordered that the two stools remain among the Hebrews and that the translator should tell them that they were left behind for the two elders.
Two days later the ship stopped in Crete to get supplies. The general now returned to the quarters of the Hebrews with the translator and told old Nahman.
“Elder we have docked at a port to get supplies. I want you or a younger man who is able to come with me to tell what foods we can bring for your people.”
“Kind general your offer is gracious, yet I am incapable of carrying such things for all these people.”
“Carry, who said you will carry anything? We have crew for that. I want you people in decent condition when we reach my country.”
“Thank you sir. In that case I will come with you and please we shall take along my nephew, Moshe.”
“Good, agreed.”
He then gave orders to the guards to let Nahman and Moshe go up with him and go with him to the ship chandlers’ market.
“Nahman, Moshe, for now we will get things your people can eat uncooked. When prepare we prepare to leave Rome for Spain on our ships you will tell me what needs be done so that you people will some cooked food too. Now let’s go to the market. Garcia, Oryazun come with us.”
An hour later they were back with baskets full of fruits and vegetables, enough to last the next several days before reaching Rome.
A week later in their part of the hold Zeira was saying….
“I hope that we get to Rome we will have a few days on dry land to rest our stomachs before the second sea trip.”
“I hear a shout from up on the deck. What are they saying?”
Someone nearer to the stairs replied, “The watcher has announced that he sees land, the harbor of Ortias I believe he said.”
“Thank God this stage is soon over.”
“I think that when we finally reach our destination I will never want to see a ship or the sea again.”
“I heard the impact of the ship to the pier.”
“They are tying it fast now, good this awful ride is over.”
The hatch creaked open; sunlight peeked through the opening, and a Roman sailor holding a lantern accompanied by soldiers climbed down the steep ramp.
“Up accursed Hebrews. On your feet. Soldiers release their shackles from the stays. Get going you lazy princelings. Do you imagine we have all day to cleanse our ship of you vermin?”
Walking, and all the more climbing the ramp was indeed difficult after two weeks cramped in the hold. Zeira helped Nahman up the stairs, yet old Shlomo slipped and only by Moshe’s quickness to catch him and help him get upright and keep going was he saved from a whipping.
“Ahhh, sunlight fresh air. Thank good God.”
“Stop chattering and move foul Hebrew.”
Zeira replied in Hebrew so that the Roman sailor would not understand. “Tihiyeh kemo menorat tikra, talui vebo’er” (you should be like a ceiling lamp, hang and burn.)
“Shut up and move! Get off my ship.”
After the debarking in Ortias and a wagon ride to Rome they spent three days in a prison in the outskirts of the city. It too was dark, murky, and filthy. The food was not much better than on the ship. The rats were larger and vicious. The prisoners took turns sleeping to protect each other from the rats that would bite the sleeping prisoners if not chased off.
As in the ship, men and women were in the same rooms. Yet here too, much to the Romans’ amazement, no improper behavior occurred.
The jailers discussed the matter in surprise. “Are they human or half angels?”
“Oh probably too depressed and exhausted from the sea trip.”
“I heard from the boson that even on the ship even the first few days they were the same. It’s not normal.”
“Whoever said those Hebrews are normal?”
“Maybe if we put …” Heavy footsteps were heard coming down the stone stairway to the level of the dungeon. The crude discussion with its lude intentions was cut short by the arrival of a courier.
“Quick jailer, open the doors to the Hebrews’ cells. The wagons to take them to the Triumph March are here.”
They were all unceremoniously hurried up forty well worn stone steps out into the blazing sun to awaiting carts that would take them to the inner city of Rome.
On the bumpy hill road Zeira was jogged into Avraham who complained, “Oof, this wagon ride is as bad as the ride from Ortias to Rome.”
“The country side is picturesque but nothing can compare to the hills of our own blessed land.”
“Oh dear God, will we ever get to see it again in our lifetime?”
Inside the city, a mile from the center they were curtly ordered off the carts. “Hebrew slaves get off, get down and start walking.
Follow the horsemen. You four look strong. You will carry that big gold candelabra.”
“Moshe look there it is the Holy Menorah! And we along with Mordekhai and Avraham are chosen to carry it. Praise God.”
“Look there on the other cart is the Holy Parokhet, the curtain of the Holy of Holies. Oh my God. It has a big slash in it and a large blood stain around the slash!”
At the sight of the slashed bloody Parokhet old Shlomo fainted and had to be caught and revived by younger men near him.
As thousands of Jewish prisoners marched through the center of Rome they were pelted with mud, contents of chamber pots and with rotten fruit and taunted by chants of “HIP - HIP Hooray, Herusalem Ist Perishee” (Jerusalem is destroyed).
While the younger men were gritting their teeth in anger at the chants and pelting, the two elders were telling those near them, “In blood and fire Judah has fallen; in blood and fire Judah will arise again. The day will come when the gates of Esav/Rome will fall and the gates of Jerusalem will rise to stand again, for eternity. The day will yet come that as the prophet Ovadia said, ‘And the house of Yaakov and the house of Yosef will be as searing flames and the house of Esav will be like straw and they will ignite and consume and there will not be a single surviving remnant of Esav, for thus has spoken God.’”
The elders Nahman and Shlomo, still weak from the horrifying days of the final conquest of the Holy City and from the sea voyage, stumbled from exhaustion several times during the march and the younger men around them supported them each time so they would not fall to the ground.
When the grueling horrendously humiliating trek was done they were returned, totally exhausted, to the prison, soiled from the filth that had been thrown at them. No opportunity to wash themselves was to be gotten.
While in the prison they overheard the guards discussing the planned fate of the Hebrews. They were to be slaves and divided into groups. Each group would have a different location as their destiny. Some would stay in the city of Rome proper, some would be sent to other cities in the Roman peninsula, other groups would be sent off to Gaul, Saxony, lands of the Goths and Visigoths, Slavonia, and Spain. Some of them maybe even be sent to Britannia, the large island west of the northwest coast of Gaul. Some of the Hebrews who would be in the city of Rome would be sent to the cruel games that would set them against gladiators or beasts of prey in the coliseum.
After several days in the bowels of the ship the men were aching from cramped quarters, nothing to sleep or sit on other than the wooden floor and sore to see sunlight and breathe open air. Larger groups of commoner prisoners had been put on board the larger but slower and less well armed troop carrier ships. The creaking rocking ship was far from a comfortable ride. The food was barely sufficient to keep them alive.
On the large Roman quadrireme galley along with the Roman soldiers and officers there was a Spanish officer and some of his soldiers. They were there to oversee the treatment of the special prize prisoners who were the “chosen price” of their king. They did not trust the Romans to be careful with these prisoners to have them reach their destination alive and whole.
Moshe, Zeira, Nahman and Shlomo were placed together in the same section of the hold. The rest of which was filled with about sixty other Hebrew prisoners.
“It’s been two weeks in this floating dank dark pest hole. The bread today already had green fur on it.”
“We can’t even take more than three steps in either direction because of these shackles on our wrists and ankles.”
“And due to the stench we cannot study holy matters any more either.”
“My young friends I agree with both of you. For none of us here it is comfortable or even reasonable. Yet must thank God that we are alive, that we are whole in body. Recall a moment the myriads who were so cruelly slaughtered, myriads who while left alive were so severely injured, left cripples who one may not know if they will be able to live, and what miserable lives are before them if they do.”
“You are so right wise Shlomo. You remind me too that back in Yafo port I saw another ship load of prisoners who were being whipped and beaten as they waited to go to their ship and as they were boarding. Many of them were obviously wounded as well.”
“Yes, Zeira, young prince, they are common folk of our people. They will have to be rowing the galley they are taken in as well.”
“Wise Nahman or Shlomo, what will be done with them? Do you know?”
“They are destined to be slaves to the Romans, or victims for gladiators or for their predator beasts in their coliseum. May God have mercy on their souls.”
“And we? What is this that I heard from the Centurion captain that we will be sent to Spain?”
“From what I understand the king of Spain gave his troops and war machines to the service of the Caesar with his demanded price being that the elite of Jerusalem’s populace be his prisoners. That is probably why a Spanish General and his aides are on this ship with us.
We are to be taken to Rome. There shown off in a triumph parade, and immediately after we will be sent to Spain. Whether by land or sea I have no idea. Though most likely by sea. This being so for besides the distance by land being great, there are mountain ranges between the state of Rome and Gaul, and again between Gaul and Spain.”
“General Hidalgos Ruiz de Catalan, I think we should pay attention to the food of our prisoners.”
“Why Garcia, is it that much more of a disaster than what we are getting to eat?”
“Likely sir. You see, they are refusing to eat even the small portions of meat offered to them and none of the gruel or soups.”
“Find me a translator and I will speak to one of their elders.”
“Yes sir.”
The general and his lieutenant along with the translator were led to the prisoners’ quarters. General Ruiz barked an order to one of the Roman soldiers who escorted them, “Bring a stool for me and for the old man so that I may speak with easily.”
When the two stools were brought he sat on one and signed to the old Hebrew to sit as well.
“Elder one fear not of our conversation. I wish to speak with you for the good of your people here with us. What is your name?”
“My holy parents of blessed memory granted me the name Nahman at my circumcision and this name has gone with me all my life.”
“How old are you?”
“With the creators kind grace I am 95 years of age.”
“Is this a joke? Who on earth gets to live so long? My grandfather who was renowned for his strength and longevity among our people only reached age 68.”
“Please do not be angry sir general. But among our people we have several who reach ages of 80 and more. With gracious God’s mercy my holy father was 107 when he passed from this material world to the spiritual world, and his father lived 114.”
“Amazing. Such advanced age must indeed be respected. My grandfather taught me that I will never go wrong honoring and giving respect to the old, especially if I ever meet someone older than the age he would live to. Tell me please why your people are refusing to eat what these damned Romans are giving you?”
“To put in briefly, our religious laws prohibit us to eat certain things, and only permits us to eat cooked food that is cooked or baked by one of us. The bread that we eat a little bit of, we eat only because it is baked in mass for the masses and without any fats or oils. Even so this permit to do eat it is solely because of the dearth of what else to keep us alive.”
“Nahman the elder, I understand and admire your people holding to your restrictions but here now you are all starving. Hunger is painful, weakening”
“General, as long as there is enough to remain alive and it is, with the Lord’s loving grace for a limited time, we make the effort for the sake of HIS holy name.”
“I have just begun to meet your people and I am already amazed, truly amazed. Elder, I wish to learn more about your people and your ways. Are you willing to when we can speak more in comfort to tell me more?”
“As you wish sir.”
The general stood and walked away back to his quarters. As he left he ordered that the two stools remain among the Hebrews and that the translator should tell them that they were left behind for the two elders.
Two days later the ship stopped in Crete to get supplies. The general now returned to the quarters of the Hebrews with the translator and told old Nahman.
“Elder we have docked at a port to get supplies. I want you or a younger man who is able to come with me to tell what foods we can bring for your people.”
“Kind general your offer is gracious, yet I am incapable of carrying such things for all these people.”
“Carry, who said you will carry anything? We have crew for that. I want you people in decent condition when we reach my country.”
“Thank you sir. In that case I will come with you and please we shall take along my nephew, Moshe.”
“Good, agreed.”
He then gave orders to the guards to let Nahman and Moshe go up with him and go with him to the ship chandlers’ market.
“Nahman, Moshe, for now we will get things your people can eat uncooked. When prepare we prepare to leave Rome for Spain on our ships you will tell me what needs be done so that you people will some cooked food too. Now let’s go to the market. Garcia, Oryazun come with us.”
An hour later they were back with baskets full of fruits and vegetables, enough to last the next several days before reaching Rome.
A week later in their part of the hold Zeira was saying….
“I hope that we get to Rome we will have a few days on dry land to rest our stomachs before the second sea trip.”
“I hear a shout from up on the deck. What are they saying?”
Someone nearer to the stairs replied, “The watcher has announced that he sees land, the harbor of Ortias I believe he said.”
“Thank God this stage is soon over.”
“I think that when we finally reach our destination I will never want to see a ship or the sea again.”
“I heard the impact of the ship to the pier.”
“They are tying it fast now, good this awful ride is over.”
The hatch creaked open; sunlight peeked through the opening, and a Roman sailor holding a lantern accompanied by soldiers climbed down the steep ramp.
“Up accursed Hebrews. On your feet. Soldiers release their shackles from the stays. Get going you lazy princelings. Do you imagine we have all day to cleanse our ship of you vermin?”
Walking, and all the more climbing the ramp was indeed difficult after two weeks cramped in the hold. Zeira helped Nahman up the stairs, yet old Shlomo slipped and only by Moshe’s quickness to catch him and help him get upright and keep going was he saved from a whipping.
“Ahhh, sunlight fresh air. Thank good God.”
“Stop chattering and move foul Hebrew.”
Zeira replied in Hebrew so that the Roman sailor would not understand. “Tihiyeh kemo menorat tikra, talui vebo’er” (you should be like a ceiling lamp, hang and burn.)
“Shut up and move! Get off my ship.”
After the debarking in Ortias and a wagon ride to Rome they spent three days in a prison in the outskirts of the city. It too was dark, murky, and filthy. The food was not much better than on the ship. The rats were larger and vicious. The prisoners took turns sleeping to protect each other from the rats that would bite the sleeping prisoners if not chased off.
As in the ship, men and women were in the same rooms. Yet here too, much to the Romans’ amazement, no improper behavior occurred.
The jailers discussed the matter in surprise. “Are they human or half angels?”
“Oh probably too depressed and exhausted from the sea trip.”
“I heard from the boson that even on the ship even the first few days they were the same. It’s not normal.”
“Whoever said those Hebrews are normal?”
“Maybe if we put …” Heavy footsteps were heard coming down the stone stairway to the level of the dungeon. The crude discussion with its lude intentions was cut short by the arrival of a courier.
“Quick jailer, open the doors to the Hebrews’ cells. The wagons to take them to the Triumph March are here.”
They were all unceremoniously hurried up forty well worn stone steps out into the blazing sun to awaiting carts that would take them to the inner city of Rome.
On the bumpy hill road Zeira was jogged into Avraham who complained, “Oof, this wagon ride is as bad as the ride from Ortias to Rome.”
“The country side is picturesque but nothing can compare to the hills of our own blessed land.”
“Oh dear God, will we ever get to see it again in our lifetime?”
Inside the city, a mile from the center they were curtly ordered off the carts. “Hebrew slaves get off, get down and start walking.
Follow the horsemen. You four look strong. You will carry that big gold candelabra.”
“Moshe look there it is the Holy Menorah! And we along with Mordekhai and Avraham are chosen to carry it. Praise God.”
“Look there on the other cart is the Holy Parokhet, the curtain of the Holy of Holies. Oh my God. It has a big slash in it and a large blood stain around the slash!”
At the sight of the slashed bloody Parokhet old Shlomo fainted and had to be caught and revived by younger men near him.
As thousands of Jewish prisoners marched through the center of Rome they were pelted with mud, contents of chamber pots and with rotten fruit and taunted by chants of “HIP - HIP Hooray, Herusalem Ist Perishee” (Jerusalem is destroyed).
While the younger men were gritting their teeth in anger at the chants and pelting, the two elders were telling those near them, “In blood and fire Judah has fallen; in blood and fire Judah will arise again. The day will come when the gates of Esav/Rome will fall and the gates of Jerusalem will rise to stand again, for eternity. The day will yet come that as the prophet Ovadia said, ‘And the house of Yaakov and the house of Yosef will be as searing flames and the house of Esav will be like straw and they will ignite and consume and there will not be a single surviving remnant of Esav, for thus has spoken God.’”
The elders Nahman and Shlomo, still weak from the horrifying days of the final conquest of the Holy City and from the sea voyage, stumbled from exhaustion several times during the march and the younger men around them supported them each time so they would not fall to the ground.
When the grueling horrendously humiliating trek was done they were returned, totally exhausted, to the prison, soiled from the filth that had been thrown at them. No opportunity to wash themselves was to be gotten.
While in the prison they overheard the guards discussing the planned fate of the Hebrews. They were to be slaves and divided into groups. Each group would have a different location as their destiny. Some would stay in the city of Rome proper, some would be sent to other cities in the Roman peninsula, other groups would be sent off to Gaul, Saxony, lands of the Goths and Visigoths, Slavonia, and Spain. Some of them maybe even be sent to Britannia, the large island west of the northwest coast of Gaul. Some of the Hebrews who would be in the city of Rome would be sent to the cruel games that would set them against gladiators or beasts of prey in the coliseum.