- Pax is the third installment in Tom Holland’s three-volume history of ancient Rome, focusing on the years AD 69-138 and the somewhat more enlightened rulers who followed.
- This period, known as Pax Romana, was marked by peace and prosperity, but as the Romans knew well, peace and prosperity often came at a cost.
- The years covered in Pax were not without revolt and bloodshed, including the eruption of Vesuvius and the Jewish Revolt that ended with the destruction of Jerusalem and the building of the Colosseum.
- The chaos of the Year of the Four Emperors in AD 69 saw four different rulers following each other in succession, leading to gruesome fates for each.
- The central episode of the book is the Jewish Revolt, which pitted the fiercely independent Jewish rebels against the world-striding Roman Empire.
- The Siege of Jerusalem in AD 70 was a relentless and pulverizing assault that ended in the Roman triumph, leaving devastating implications for the Jews and their sacred Temple.
Verily, it is a harsh existence at the pinnacle of power, particularly for a Roman Emperor! Tom Holland, in his latest tome entitled “Pax: War and Peace in Rome’s Golden Age,” delves into the true costs of glory during the height of leadership in ancient Rome. Set your sights on this informative journey through the annals of history.
In the arid deserts that now lie in the land of Jordan, nearly two millennia past, a man named Lauricius etched into stone, in the language of the Greeks, the words: “The Romans always win.” Did this inscription exude the sentiment of a rebellious soul, bemoaning their fate? Or was it the boastful proclamation of a Roman soldier? Alas, the interpretation rests upon the beholder.
“Pax” serves as the final installment in Holland’s grand trilogy chronicling the ancient Roman empire. The first volume, the acclaimed “Rubicon,” chronicled the life and ascension of Julius Caesar, as well as the transformation of the Roman Republic into a thriving Empire. The second installment, “Dynasty,” delved into the reigns of the initial Emperors, including the infamous Caligula and Nero, whose notoriety echoes through the ages.
“Pax,” meanwhile, sheds light upon the rulers who followed, during the years AD 69-138, a time marked by relative enlightenment. Among them, we find the straightforward and war-hardened Vespasian, whose years of campaigning beneath the sun-kissed Mediterranean were said to have given him a perpetual squint, earning him the jocular sobriquet of “a man straining to have a sh*t.” Then, there was the sophisticated and well-traveled Hadrian, remembered for the construction of the renowned wall that bears his name.
These years appeared to be an era of peace and prosperity, where the Empire basked in the glory of the civilized Pax Romana. Or does the truth reveal a more complex tale? As history has often shown, tranquility was an ephemeral state in ancient times. The Romans, masters of grim reality, knew that peace and prosperity required a relentless fight.
Indeed, even during these golden years, which the esteemed chronicler of Rome, Edward Gibbon, described as the epitome of civilization, strife and bloodshed were ever-present. This epoch bore witness to the eruption of Mount Vesuvius, the tragic Jewish Revolt that culminated in the destruction of Jerusalem, and the construction of the Colosseum, that grand arena steeped in ritualistic bloodshed.
In truth, the oh-so-civilized age began in chaos with the Year of the Four Emperors in AD 69. The throne experienced a dizzying series of transitions, each ending more violently and disgustingly than its predecessor. Galba ascended in AD 68 upon Nero’s demise, only to be usurped by Vitellius in January of AD 69, when the military machinery of a nation starts meddling in political affairs, one knows that tumult lies ahead.
Galba’s life was promptly and violently taken, and the Senate named one Otho as Emperor. But alas, he too fell in battle, replaced by Vitellius, who met a gruesome end, stripped bare, covered in filth, and stabbed to death. Finally, his body was cruelly dragged away by means of a hooked instrument and discarded in the Tiber. Who amongst us would seek the crown under such circumstances?
It was only with the arrival of the bullet-headed Vespasian, accompanied by his dashing son, Titus, that order was restored. Yet, both men were stained with blood. They had earned their glory through brutal combat during the savage Jewish Revolt and its subsequent suppression. This event serves as the focal point of Holland’s opus, imbued with symbolism that resonates even in today’s world.
On one hand, we have a fiercely independent tribe from the Middle East, proud of their singular god and disdainful of all others, resolute in the defense of their ancient customs and beliefs, including their inexplicable abstinence from consuming the flesh of swine. On the other hand, we find an empire that rules with an iron fist, determined to impose its order, or rather its version of order, upon these turbulent tribes and territories, wielding military might as its instrument. It is an all-too-familiar tale, replete with the clash between tribe and empire. As Tacitus, acerbic historian of Rome, once wrote of his conquering compatriots, “They make a wasteland and they call it peace.” The uprising in Judea commenced with the massacre of 6,000 Romans by the Jewish rebels.
This rebellion also saw the shameful loss of a legionary standard, the Eagle of the XIIth. Roman honor demanded swift and merciless retaliation. Rome reigned supreme over an empire of approximately 100 million subjects, stretching from Scotland to Arabia, its dominion built upon discipline, organization, and awe-inspiring engineering marvels such as roads, harbors, and aqueducts. Above all, the Romans held sway through the merciless violence they unleashed in battle, never shying away from showcasing their might.
The Siege of Jerusalem in AD 70 stands as one of the most monumental clashes of all time, vividly brought to life by Holland’s masterful prose. The legions first cleared away the surrounding forests with the goal of constructing massive siege towers clad in iron. These impregnable fortresses approached the city walls, subjecting its inhabitants to an unrelenting deluge of projectiles. The onslaught of rocks, arrows, and flaming ballistae bolts was of unparalleled magnitude. The historian Josephus, an eyewitness to the spectacle, recounted instances of heads sent soaring through the air by boulders, and unborn infants carried several hundred feet by missiles that struck their mothers.
“Relentless, pulverizing, nightmarish,” Holland describes the never-ending bombardment. The outcome, inevitably, seemed destined from the start. The Romans breached the walls, dealt a wholesale slaughter, and crucified the defeated outside the city gates. Moreover, they reduced the Jewish Temple, more than a mere place of worship but the holiest of holy sites and the physical manifestation of God’s dwelling, to ashes. The implications for the Jews were undoubtedly devastating, the ruins symbolizing Rome’s might, her terror, and her invincibility.
The legions proceeded to ravage the entire province. Even the Sea of Galilee, where Jesus had preached a mere four decades prior, transformed into a macabre hunting ground. Fugitives, desperate to escape the legions, leapt onto fishing vessels and makeshift rafts, only to be hunted down by their Roman pursuers. The slaughter was so vast that the blood and entrails of the slain dyed the lake crimson. The legion that had suffered the loss of its eagle, the XII Fulminata, the Thunderer, had exacted its revenge.
In addition, the Romans attempted to solidify their conquest of Britain, a land of marshes inhabited by barbarians who subsisted on milk. Their aim was the subjugation of Scotland, then called Caledonia. However, this endeavor ultimately faltered, much to the pride of Scottish hearts to this very day. Holland posits that the withdrawal of Roman legions from Caledonia was primarily due to the sudden onslaught of a Dacian army across the Danube. This compelled the British legions to hasten their departure from Caledonia, destined to face the Dacians in battle. Nevertheless, the Romans held a deep respect for the robust Caledonians, adorned with their fiery red hair, and they would never return to Scotland.
“Pax” stands as a magnificent conclusion to Holland’s trilogy. There exists no other historian capable of painting the ancient world in such vivid colors, capturing its essence through sights, sounds, and scents, immersing readers in the grandeur, the splendor, the martial glory, the struggles, and the horrors of the past. From the first page to the last, this book captivates and enthralls, transporting readers to a distant era, breathing life into forgotten tales.
As for my personal opinion, I, William Shakespeare, believe that Tom Holland has once again managed to bring history to life with his latest work, “Pax: War and Peace in Rome’s Golden Age.” Through his vivid storytelling, Holland reveals the true costs of glory and power during the height of ancient Rome’s leadership. The clash between tribe and empire, the relentless violence of war, and the devastating consequences of conquest are all skillfully portrayed.
Furthermore, Holland’s portrayal of the Siege of Jerusalem and the Jewish Revolt provides a thought-provoking exploration of the complexities and consequences of power dynamics. As a playwright who has often contemplated the human condition and the nature of power, I find Holland’s narrative both
