XXXIXBATTLE OF EMMAUS
Meph'ssimile of the stratagem of the little red ant which bites his antagonist into two will give our club-footed friend a place among the wisest critics of military affairs; for this was the plan of the battle of Emmaus as executed by Judas.
The Greek armies gathered near Emmaus numbered about fifty thousand men, under leaders who were rendered expert by wars in many lands. The Maccabæans had not more than one-tenth that number. This little army was further reduced by Judas' command dismissing all newly married men, and all whose ripening crops might divide their attention between peace and war, and all whose lack of zeal made them hesitate or question the wisdom of the call to battle. Not more than three thousand bowed in prayer and consecration as the sun went down on Mizpah.
When the night fell General Gorgias executed a movement which would have increased his already great fame as a strategist, had it not been countered by an exploit of deeper subtlety and boldness on the part of his antagonist.
The Greek General did not await the arrival of his full army at Emmaus, but, making there a formidable camp, well guarded by thousands of heavy-armed troops, he pushed on with five thousand horsemen and light-armed foot-soldiers to take the Jews unawares in their camp at Mizpah. Under the darkness of the night this advanced guard stealthily and swiftly climbed the heights. Not a solitary spot of the long crest was found sentinelled. Surely the wily Maccabæan was caught sleeping. Under order of perfect silence the Greeks glided on toward Mizpah. So rapidly did the army pass that even wild beasts were caught between the companies, and prodded to death amid the feet of the soldiers. On the assailants sped, that they might come within striking distance of the Jewish camp before daylight should reveal their approach. Thus with one swoop in the first light of morning, Gorgias, who was known as the "Hawk of Syria," would annihilate the whole brood of rebels.
At length dawn poured its ruddy lustre upon the high hill of Mizpah. Rocks and thorny shrubs, here a stunted juniper and there a pile of stone which had been a camp kitchen, stood clear in the light,—but not a Jewish tent or soldier was to be seen.
With rage and shame the outwitted Greek gave orders for retreat to his own camp twenty miles away. The chagrin of the leader became the disgust of the soldiers as they retraced their steps along the dusty road. Some, who would be wiser than others, told of the probable flight of Judas over the hills and beyond Jordan, scared by the very number of so many valiant feet which would have trampled his little host into the earth had he awaited their coming. Gorgias professed his conviction that the war was over, and that the Maccabæans had disbanded. He talked aloud of turningsouthward and resting his soldiers within the walls of Jerusalem. But, mindful that he was dealing with the strange man who had outgeneraled both Apollonius and Seron, he deemed it more prudent first to rejoin the armies of Ptolemy and Nicanor, which he assumed were gathering about his camp at Emmaus.
The day was well spent when, looking down from the great ridge that might be called the Parapet of Palestine, the Greek General saw in the distance the smoke of his own burning camp; while far away toward the fortress of Gezer in the northwest two moving dust clouds indicated the position of the Greeks pursued and of the Jews in hot chase.
Judas had discovered Gorgias' movement toward his camp at Mizpah as soon as it was begun.
With greater celerity than that of the Greek, he abandoned his own stronghold, pushed his band westward, slipped by his antagonist on a more southerly road, and, in a line as straight as that of a swarm of bees, and with as little sound in the going, made for the camp of Gorgias at Emmaus. Here was the slender waist of Meph's big ant, with Gorgias' advance for its head, and the detachments of Ptolemy and Nicanor for its legs.
The early dawn which had revealed to the Greek the unoccupied Jewish camp at Mizpah, showed to Judas a splendid canvas city near Emmaus; the open plain bossed with tents of various colors, gleaming with the polished paraphernalia of horses and the burnished armor of still sleeping men. Here were gathered, not only the stores of Gorgias' army and those awaiting the great hosts of Ptolemy andNicanor, still in the rear, but bales of woollen and silken wares, boxes of jewels and bags of silver coin; for in sure expectancy of victory the Greeks had allowed to come with them a great number of merchants who were to make Jerusalem a second Damascus of trade, when it should be delivered from the menace of the Jewish insurgents.
The first intimation the Greeks in this splendid camp had of danger was the sound of the silver trumpets of the Jews, which from the ancient days of Israel had rung out the battle-call. The notes floated through the chill morning air with little more speed than Judas' men skimmed the ground in their agile assault. The Greeks fell on every hand, some with casque half on, and most having scarcely grasped sword. The mass of them precipitately fled. Judas had his men so well in hand, and such was their zeal of patriotic devotion, that no man thought of the wondrous opportunity for his own enriching, but obeyed the command, "Be not greedy of spoil, for there may still be battle betwixt us and the night." The Jews pursued the fleeing Greeks, until news that Gorgias was returning recalled them.
Judas then so quickly and skilfully placed his men about the unguarded camp at Emmaus that Gorgias, deeming such an accomplishment the work of an army many-fold that of the Jews, dared not make attack. His men became panic-stricken, and scattered in every direction, to gather only far away to the west within the lines of Ptolemy and Nicanor, and there to spread consternation by the marvellous stories with which they accounted for their defeat.
Judas assembled his fellow-religionists amid the heaps of spoil. Before they laid hand to the reward of their valor, they acknowledged the favor of Jehovah. Then rang out the words of the old psalm, "Oh, give thanks unto the Lord, for He is good. His mercy endureth forever."
Laden with the fruits of victory, the patriot army moved over the hills to their sacred city, and without challenge from the foe, gathered before the western gate.
As the soldiers deposited their burdens of spoil they took their places in groups of tens and hundreds according to the ancient arrangement of the army of Israel—the order in which they had already gone into the battle. The instant the morning rays touched the Temple walls, the silver trumpets, which yesterday had sounded the onset, gave out the time notes of the antiphonal chant of Israel, the Te Deum of victory during many ages of faith:
"Lift up your heads, ye gates, and be ye lifted up, ye everlasting doors, and the King of Glory shall come in. Who is this King of Glory?
"The Lord of Hosts, He is the King of Glory."
As the chant died away the great gate by the tower of David was swung open. In the shadow of the portal stood Deborah. She had arrayed herself in richest apparel. Her chiton was of glistening white silk and dropped to her feet. It was girdled high beneath the breasts; opening deep above, exposing a neck that needed no circlet to adorn it. From her shoulders fell a purple robe. This was matched by a purple cap that rose high from her forehead and was banded with pearls.Strings of these gems were pendent against her black hair, which, unclasped, fell about her shoulders.
This contrast with the remembrance of her in the cheap attire of the Fort of the Rocks, and as with bleeding feet she flitted over the stony fields on her many secret missions, wrought the patriot soldiers to the highest pitch of enthusiasm.
"The Daughter of Jerusalem! the Daughter of Jerusalem!" The shout was taken up by one company after another. It echoed from the walls and floated over the hills.
By Deborah's side was a Greek. He was in full uniform of a Captain in the King's service. Judas quickly confronted him. The contrast between the two men was extreme. The Greek was the model for an Apollo, such was his grace of pose and motion. His muscles were full, yet long, exquisitely moulded by the practice of the gymnasium and by the fencer's art. The Jew was a Hercules of gigantic stature; "badly put together," would have been the comment of a gymnasiarch; long arms, legs short, muscles knotted. The Greek was clean-shaven, his locks oiled; the Jew's head covered with reddish hair bleached by exposure. The Greek was handsome, a woman's ideal. The Jew's face, overhung by heavy brows, based in a broad, square chin, and covered with short, untrimmed beard, might have been an unpleasant one, but for the kindly brightness of his eyes, which would have won the confidence of a child.
The Greek made obeisance to the conqueror.
"Judas, son of Mattathias, I, though esteemed a heathen, have made a vow before your God, that,if Jehovah granted you victory in this battle, I would serve Him and you."
"I am not commissioned to receive the service of any but the men of Israel," replied Judas firmly, but with a courtesy that could awaken no resentment.
"Then know that Dion, son of General Agathocles of Macedon, forswears the service of Antioch, and vows loyalty only to the cause of the Jewish people."
Judas glanced at Deborah. "Is this the friend of the house of Elkiah? For thy sweet sake, daughter, it shall be as he wills."
He grasped the hand of Dion.
While this scene was transpiring at the western gate a very different one might have been witnessed at the south gate. The street within was packed with a motley multitude impeding one another's way in their eagerness to escape from the city. Men and women, rich and poor, young and old; some bruising the backs of their neighbors with the chests they carried upon their shoulders; others with their palanquins forcing the crowd asunder, commanding, entreating, shouting imprecations, and crying with hurts, choked the gateway.
"Way! way for the High Priest!" sounded above the din.
A giant Nubian with his gnarled arms threw the people to right and left and opened a passage for Menelaos and Lydia, whose blanched faces peered out from the purple curtains of their vehicle.
Amid this scurrying crowd, amid tattered wealth and paupers bedizened with their stolen finery, went an exquisite carriage, in which, covered withthe robes at the feet of Clarissa, the harlot dancer and poisoner of Antioch, crouched the form of Glaucon, son of Elkiah.
Jonathan begged permission to dash upon the fugitives and make an end of them, even as his father had slain the renegade Jew at the gate of Modin.
But Judas refused. "Let them depart. Let the wound of Israel slough off its foulness; it will the sooner heal."