Antiquities of the Jews, Book 16
Herod Accuses His Sons Before Caesar
What happened during Antipater’s absence increased the honor to which he had been raised and his evident superiority over his brothers. He had made a great figure in Rome, because Herod had sent letters recommending him to all his friends there. His only grief was that he was not at home and had no proper opportunities to keep slandering his brothers; and his chief fear was that his father might change his mind and of his own accord become more considerate toward Mariamne’s sons. With this in mind he did not let up in his purpose, but kept sending from Rome any stories he hoped would grieve and irritate his father against his brothers, under the pretense of deep concern for his father’s safety, but in truth as his malicious mind dictated, to buy a greater hope of the succession, which was already great in itself. He kept this up until he had stirred up such anger in Herod that Herod was already very ill-disposed toward the young men. But Herod still held back from acting on so violent a dislike of them, and so that he might not offend by being either too slack or too rash, he thought it best to sail to Rome and accuse his sons there before Caesar, rather than allow himself any act heinous enough to be suspected of impiety. As he was going up to Rome, he happened to make such haste that he met Caesar at the city of Aquileia. When he came to speak with Caesar, he asked for a time to have this great case heard, in which he thought himself most miserable. He presented his sons there and accused them of their mad conduct and their attempts against him. They were his enemies, he said, and did all they could to show their hatred of their own father; they meant to take his life and so obtain his kingdom in the most savage way. He had power from Caesar to dispose of it, not by necessity but by choice, to whichever son showed him the greatest devotion; but these sons of his were not so much eager to rule as ready, if disappointed of it, to throw away their own lives, if only they might deprive their father of his, so savage and foul a hatred of him had sunk into their souls. He had long borne this misfortune, but was now compelled to lay it before Caesar and to pollute his ears with such words. Yet he himself wanted to know what harshness they had ever suffered from him, or what hardships he had ever laid on them to make them complain of him; and how they could think it just that he should not be master of the kingdom he had gained over a long time and at great danger, and should not be allowed to keep it and leave it to whoever deserved it best. This, with other advantages, he held out as a reward for the devotion of whoever would hereafter imitate the care he had taken of it, so that such a one might win so great a recompense. And it was an impious thing, he said, for them to presume to meddle with it beforehand; for whoever always has the kingdom in view is at the same time counting on his father’s death, since otherwise he cannot come to the throne. As for himself, he had so far given them all he could, all that was fitting for those subject to royal authority and for the sons of a king: whatever finery they wanted, servants, and delicate food; and he had married them into the most illustrious families, the one to his sister’s daughter and Alexander to the daughter of King Archelaus. And, greatest favor of all, though their crimes were so very bad and he had the authority to punish them, he had not used it against them, but had brought them before Caesar, their common benefactor. He had not used the severity he might have used, either as a father impiously abused or as a king treacherously attacked, but had put them on an equal footing with himself in judgment. Even so, he said, all this could not be passed over without punishment, nor could he go on living in the greatest fear. Indeed, it was not even to their own advantage to see the light of the sun after what they had plotted, even if they escaped this time, since they had done the vilest things and would surely suffer the greatest punishments ever known among mankind.
These were the charges Herod pressed with great vehemence against his sons before Caesar. The young men wept and were thrown into confusion both while he was speaking and above all when he finished. In their own consciences they knew they were innocent; but because it was their father who accused them, they realized, as was true, that it was hard for them to defend themselves. Even frank speech did not suit the occasion, if they were to keep refuting with force and vehemence a father who had been misled. So they were at a loss how to speak. Tears followed, and at last a deep groan, for they were afraid that if they said nothing, they would seem to be in this difficulty from a guilty conscience; nor did they have any defense ready, because of their youth and their distress. Yet Caesar, looking at them in their confusion, was well aware that their delay in making a defense came not from consciousness of any great crimes but from inexperience and modesty. Each of those present pitied them too, and they stirred their father, who was now in the grip of genuine feeling.
But when they saw that a kindly feeling had arisen both in him and in Caesar, and that everyone else either shed tears or at least grieved with them, one of them, whose name was Alexander, called out to his father and set about answering his accusation: “Father, your goodwill toward us is plain even in this very trial. If you had meant us any harm, you would not have brought us here before the common savior of all; for you had the power, both as king and as father, to punish the guilty. But by bringing us to Rome in this way and making Caesar himself a witness of what is done, you show that you intend to save us. No one who means to kill a man brings him to the temples and the altars. Yet our position is worse still, for we cannot bear to live any longer if it is believed that we have wronged such a father. Indeed, it might be worse for us to live under the suspicion that we have wronged him than to die free of such guilt. If our open defense is accepted as true, we will be happy, both in appeasing you and in escaping the danger we are in; but if this slander prevails, it is more than enough for us to have seen the sun today. And why should we see it, if this suspicion is fixed on us? Now it is easy to say of young men that they want to reign, and to add that this evil springs from the fate of our unhappy mother. That is quite enough to produce our present misfortune out of the former one. But consider carefully whether such an accusation does not fit all young men alike and could not be said of any of them. For nothing can prevent a reigning king who has children, whose mother is dead, from suspecting all his sons of plotting against him; but a suspicion is not enough to prove so impious an act. Let anyone say whether we have actually and brazenly attempted anything of the kind by which deeds otherwise incredible are usually made believable. Can anyone prove that poison has been prepared, or a conspiracy with our companions, or the bribing of servants, or letters written against you? And yet there is none of these things that has not at times been alleged by way of slander when it was never done; for a royal family at odds with itself is a terrible thing, and what you call the reward of devotion often becomes, among very wicked men, a ground for hopes that make them leave no kind of mischief untried. No one charges us with any wicked act. As for slanders by hearsay, how can anyone put an end to them who will not hear what we have to say? Have we spoken too freely? Yes, but not against you, for that would be unjust, but against those who never keep quiet about anything said to them. Has either of us mourned our mother? Yes, not because she is dead, but because even in death she was spoken ill of by those who had no right to do so. Do we desire the power we know our father holds? For what reason should we? If we already have royal honors, as we do, would we not be laboring in vain? And if we did not have them, are we not in hope of them? Or suppose we had killed you, could we expect to obtain your kingdom, when neither the earth would let us tread on it nor the sea let us sail on it after such a deed? Indeed, the religion of all your subjects and the piety of the whole nation would have forbidden men who had killed their father to take the government or to enter that most holy temple which you built. But suppose we had made light of the other dangers: can any murderer go unpunished while Caesar is alive? We are your sons, and not so impious or so thoughtless as that, though perhaps more unfortunate than suits you. But if you find no grounds for complaint and no treacherous plots, what sufficient evidence do you have to make such wickedness on our part believable? Our mother is dead, it is true; but what happened to her might teach us caution, not incite us to wickedness. We are willing to say more in our defense, but deeds never done do not admit of argument. Indeed, we will make this agreement with you, and that before Caesar, the master of all, who is now mediator between us. If you, Father, can bring yourself, on the evidence of the truth, to have a mind free of suspicion about us, let us live, though even then we will live unhappily, for to be accused of great crimes, even falsely, is a terrible thing. But if you still have any fear left, continue in your pious life, and we will settle accounts with ourselves. Our life is not so dear to us that we would wish to keep it if it tends to harm our father who gave it to us.”
When Alexander had spoken in this way, Caesar, who had not believed so gross a slander even before, was still more moved. He looked intently at Herod and saw that he was somewhat confounded. Those present were anxious for the young men, and the talk that spread through the court made the king hated. For the very incredibility of the slander, and pity for the young men’s flower of youth and beauty of body, pleaded for help for them, all the more because Alexander had made their defense with skill and good sense. The young men’s own bearing changed too: though they still wept and kept their eyes on the ground in dejection, a better hope began to show in them. And the king, who had thought his accusation reasonable from what he had been persuaded of, now needed some excuse himself, since he had nothing with which to convict them. But Caesar, after some delay, said that although the young men were entirely innocent of what they were slandered for, they had still been at fault in not conducting themselves toward their father so as to prevent the suspicion that had spread about them. He also urged Herod to lay all such suspicions aside and be reconciled to his sons, for it was not right to give any credit to such reports about his own children. Repentance on both sides, he said, might still heal the breaches between them and improve their goodwill toward one another, so that each side, excusing the rashness of its suspicions, might resolve to show the other greater affection than before. After giving them this advice, Caesar beckoned to the young men. As they were about to fall down to plead with their father, Herod raised them up himself and embraced them, weeping as they were, and took each of them in his arms in turn, until there was no one present, free or slave, who was not deeply moved by what they saw.
Then they thanked Caesar and went away together, and Antipater went with them, hypocritically pretending to rejoice at the reconciliation. In the last days they spent with Caesar, Herod made him a present of three hundred talents, as Caesar was then putting on shows and distributing gifts to the people of Rome. Caesar gave Herod half the revenue of the copper mines in Cyprus, entrusted the management of the other half to him, and honored him in other ways with hospitality and lodging. As for his own kingdom, Caesar left it in Herod’s power to appoint whichever of his sons he pleased as his successor, or to divide it among them all, so that the dignity might come to each of them. And when Herod was inclined to make such a settlement at once, Caesar said he would not allow him to give up, while he was alive, his power over his kingdom or over his sons.
After this Herod returned to Judea. During his absence no small part of his territory around Trachonitis had revolted, but the commanders he had left there had defeated the rebels and forced them back into submission. As Herod was sailing with his sons and had come opposite Cilicia, to the island of Elaeusa, which has now changed its name to Sebaste, he met Archelaus, king of Cappadocia. Archelaus received him kindly, glad that he was reconciled to his sons and that the accusation against Alexander, who had married his daughter, was at an end. They exchanged such presents as befitted kings. From there Herod came to Judea and to the temple, where he made a speech to the people about what had been done on this journey. He spoke to them about Caesar’s kindness to him, and about as many of the details of what he had done as he thought it to his advantage for others to know. At last he turned his speech to admonishing his sons. He urged those who lived at court, and the people at large, to harmony, and told them that his sons were to reign after him: Antipater first, and then Alexander and Aristobulus, the sons of Mariamne. But for the present he wanted them all to look to him and regard him as king and master of all, since he was not yet hindered by old age but was at the time of life when he must be most skilled in governing; nor was he lacking in the other arts of management that would enable him to govern the kingdom well and to rule his children too. He further told the officials under him and the soldiers that if they looked to him alone, they would lead peaceful lives and make one another happy. When he had said this, he dismissed the assembly. The speech pleased most of those who heard it, but not all; for the rivalry among his sons and the hopes he had given them stirred up thoughts and desires for change among them.