Pilate spent most of the trip trying out his Greek on the captain, since this was the predominating language of the eastern Mediterranean. Like most educated Romans, he had mastered Greek before donning the toga of manhood, but there was the usual gap between book and practice. Except for conversations with Procula, orders to his staff, and correspondence with Rome, Pilate would not use Latin again during his tenure as governor. Since he did not know Hebrew or Aramaic, all communication with his subjects would have to be in common, commercial Greek.
Caesarea, the Roman administrative capital of Judea, reflected a dusky gold from the setting sun at the close of the second day of their voyage. Pilate and Procula had been concerned about Caesarea because, like it or not, this would be their home for as long as Tiberius continued him in office. Seeing it the first time was a little like a groom unveiling a bride he had never previously met: one could only accept the inevitable.
As the ship neared the harbor, they were pleasantly startled by the size of the city. This was certainly not the smallest of Rome’s provincial capitals and would, they hoped, offer a certain cosmopolitan way of life that might remind them of Rome. Nature had molded the west coast of Palestine into a very rectilinear shoreline, and there was hardly an indentation in the vast, extended beach to use in building a harbor. Undaunted, Herod the Great had created one artificially at Caesarea. By driving huge stone pilings into the sea bottom in a semicircular arc in front of the city, he fashioned a great mole which was two hundred feet wide and absolutely impervious to Mediterranean storms. Jutting up from this jetty were towers in which mariners lived while their ships were in port. The great harbor, the captain assured Pilate, compared favorably with the port of Athens itself.
A sharp starboard tack carried the ship through the harbor narrows and between six great stone colossi rising from the ends of the interrupted jetty. A forest of masts and hulls seemed to grow out of the placid turquoise waters of the harbor, which were crisscrossed by a labyrinth of quays. Pilate had heard earlier the comparison between the ports of Caesarea and Athens, but had always written it off as exaggeration. Now he was less inclined to do so.
Caesarea’s skyline seemed extraordinarily impressive to Procula, too grand for what she had heard of Palestine, and she asked the captain about it. He explained that the city was built at one time—a dozen-year period; of predominantly one building material—white stone; in one architectural motif—Hellenistic columnar; and by one man—Herod the Great. With such unitary planning, the result was a civic work of art. Herod had lavished vast sums on Caesarea and named it in honor of his close friend and patron, Caesar Augustus. His temple, resembling a slightly scaled-down version of the immortal Parthenon, crowned a summit overlooking the harbor. Just off the waterfront, they saw a series of government buildings, all gracefully columned in Doric, and, farther off, the unmistakable shapes of an amphitheater as well as a dramatic theater.
When their ship docked, an honor guard blew a trumpet fanfare and then escorted Pilate’s party from the central receiving wharf to the palace of Herod. Procula thought it a bad omen: unquestionably, the retiring governor, Valerius Gratus, should have been at dockside to welcome his successor officially, a matter of common state courtesy. Certainly there were enough curious Syrians and Jews lining the harbor to witness the arrival of their new governor, even though it was getting dark and flickering torches started to appear. Pilate agreed that it was a breach of courtesy, and wondered what excuses Gratus would manufacture.
“I have it, Procula,” he murmured. “Gratus is probably angry that I took so long in arriving. He’s been writing for release ever since the new year, I understand.”
“Maybe that’s it,” she agreed, “yet it’s still no reason for such a snub.”
But at the entrance to the Herodian palace, the wife of Valerius Gratus apologized, “Forgive my husband for not meeting you at the harbor,” said the stately Roman matron, who was much older than Procula, “but he’s been ill with a recurring fever. Today was one of his worst days.”
She showed them to the guest quarters, and her manner was so gracious that they thought the medical excuse might have some validity. The next morning they were sure of it. Gratus greeted them with cordiality and regrets for his indisposition, which verified itself by his pallor and trembling hand.
“This sickness runs in cycles. Give me a short time and I’ll be strong again,” he said. “I must say, Pilate, I’m relieved by your arrival. I’ve put in eleven years here, so I think we exiles are entitled to return whence we came.”
Gratus was a stout, middle-aged figure, balding, gray at the temples, but aging with dignity. Flashing, steel-colored eyes sparked his conversation and seemed to compensate for his ashen skin.
“I wish we’d arrived sooner than this,” Pilate apologized, “but Tiberius showed a good bit of indecision on whether you should be replaced. One parts with good governors only reluctantly.”
“Show that kind of diplomacy, my man, and you should have no trouble with the Jews,” laughed Gratus. “But before anything else, you must tell me all the news of Rome. Out here we get only wisps of gossip and official reports.”
For the next hour or so, Pilate had to reconstruct Rome as he had left it a month earlier. Clearly, Gratus was eager to return.
After wringing the last shred of information out of Pilate, he said, “We have much to accomplish in the short time we’ll be together here. You see, we’re all packed and ready to sail before navigation closes. An Alexandrian ship will pick us up in a few days.”
While his wife showed Procula the dining salons, the kitchen complex, storerooms, bedrooms, and the servants’ quarters, Gratus took his successor on a tour of the atrium, peristyle, and state rooms. Herod’s palace much resembled an elaborate Greco-Roman mansion, Pilate thought, but with such additional items as tropical courtyards, a private bathing pool, and the praetorium or government headquarters at the center of the structure. Then too, a military barracks adjoined the palace to ensure its safety. This would be Pilate’s official residence throughout his tenure as prefect of Judea, and his cultivated tastes found Herod’s beautifully ornamented palace an aesthetic delight.
The tour of Caesarea was equally impressive. Like Alexandria, the city was laid out with streets crossing each other at right angles and major arteries converging on a busy Forum-like public square. Less than forty years old, Caesarea lay almost painfully white in the brilliant Levantine sun, securely ensconced in a semicircular city wall. A huge hippodrome stood just outside the east wall, a consoling sight for the new prefect, since he would not have to surrender his Roman’s penchant for sports and chariot racing. Indeed, Gratus told him that an institution called “Caesar’s Games,” a kind of Palestinian Olympics, was held there every five years. While Jews would not take part in them, the many gentile residents of Caesarea and neighboring cities participated with gusto.
“Herod built all this?” Pilate puzzled. “His name doesn’t enjoy this kind of reputation in Rome. We remember him only as the man who was continually writing Augustus for permission to kill his own sons on suspicion of treason. Wasn’t it the princeps himself who finally said, ‘I’d rather be Herod’s pig than his son’? Pork, at least, isn’t slaughtered for consumption among the Jews.”
“Yes,” replied Gratus, “but that was when Herod was old and a little deranged. The young Herod cut a very dashing figure, with all the exceptional qualities of his father Antipater. By the bloody club of Hercules, that house surely knew when to switch allegiances! They shifted from Pompey to Caesar. After the Ides, they switched from Caesar to Cassius, then from Cassius to Antony. And finally they exchanged Antony for Augustus. Each time the proper substitution; so correct, so well-timed it nearly brings tears to the eye!”