Exterior of the Holy SepulchreExterior of the Holy Sepulchre
The letter of Rufus conveyed the intelligence of Josephus's preservation, and his captivity in the Roman camp, and Zadok hastened to communicate it to the chief men of the city. The news spread rapidly through Jerusalem, and as rapidly the sorrow that had been felt and shown on account of his supposed death was changed into the fiercest indignation at his thus consenting to survive his heroic countrymen. Some called him a dastardly coward, who had feared to meet an honourable death, while others execrated his name as a traitor; and a fierce desire to wreak their vengeance on the apostate was now added to the other motives for resistance to the Romans. They longed to see Vespasian's standards approach their walls, in the full conviction that no power would resist the fury of their sally on the foe, and that all their calamities and reverses would be obliterated in the blood of their enemies.
But Vespasian did not yet give them the opportunity which they so madly desired. What were his motives for not pursuing his victorious way to Jerusalem at that time is uncertain; but so it was, that he turned aside and left the rebels in the capital to exercise their fury on themselves, and thus to weaken their own powers. The Roman general visited Agrippa at Cæsarea, on the sea-coast, and then passed to Cæsarea Philippi in the north of Galilee, where he allowed his army to rest and refresh themselves for twenty days.
He then proceeded to quell the symptoms of insurrection which had been displayed in Tiberias and Tarichea, two cities on the Lake of Genesareth that belonged to King Agrippa, but seemed little disposed to unite with him in his attachment to the Roman party. Tiberias soon surrendered, but a body of insurgents left the city, and took refuge in Tarichea, which had been carefully fortified by Josephus. The Roman army pitched their camp beneath the walls, and commenced their preparations for a siege; and while their works were advancing, a reinforcement of young recruits arrived from Rome, and joined the legions already assembled. Among these recruits was Marcellus, who was received with the warmest affection by his father, and through his interest was soon enrolled among the troops under the special command of Titus. Before he was allowed to take his place among his future comrades, an oath was administered to him, according to the military custom of the Romans, with every circumstance of solemnity. He was required to swear that he would never desert his standard, that he would submit his own will to the commands of his leaders, and that he would sacrifice his life for the safety of the emperor or the empire. This ceremony being performed, his arms were presented to him, and he became one of the redoubted band of cavalry so nobly led by the gallant Titus. The arms of attack and defence of the cavalry consisted of a coat of mail, and light boots and helmet; an oblong shield was fastened on the left arm, while the right hand carried a long javelin, and a sharp broadsword hung from the girdle. The foot soldiers were very differently accoutred, having an open helmet with a lofty crest, a breastplate of iron, and greaves of the same metal on their legs. A shield or buckler, four feet long and two feet and a-half wide, was carried on the left arm, and was capable of covering the whole person, when the troops knelt to receive the charge of their enemies. It was composed of a frame of light wood, on which was stretched a bull's-hide, and strengthened with plates of brass. Their offensive arms were powerful and various, consisting of a light spear for thrusting, and also pilium, or ponderous javelin, six feet long, and terminating in a steel point of the length of eighteen inches. This was thrown from a distance of ten or twelve yards; and such were its force and weight when cast by the practised hand of a veteran legionary, that neither shield nor corslet could resist it. After the pilium had been thrown, the soldier drew his short, double-edged sword, and rushed forward to the closer and yet more deadly conflict that was carried on hand to hand.
For a few days the operations of the besieging army continued undisturbed, and Marcellus was not called to prove his own courage and discipline, or the temper of his polished and unsullied arms. He therefore employed this brief period of leisure in rambling along the shores of the beautiful lake, as far as he could do so with safety. It was a lovely spot, and even to a common observer could not fail to be full of interest. The blue waters stretched before him, calm and transparent beneath the warm beams of an eastern sun, and the shores were crowded with rich and populous towns, whose terraced roofs and lofty towers were seen rising above the luxuriant groves and orchards that clothed the whole of that fertile district. The graceful palm, the dark olive, and the spreading fig-tree fringed the very margin of the lake, and were reflected on its smooth surface as on a mirror; while every port was animated with vessels preparing to assist the Taricheans in the defence of their city, or in case of a defeat to carry them off to the other side of the lake. A great part of the town was washed by the waters, and thus protected from the assault of the Romans, and a strong wall was carried round on every other side. Close to this wall the camp of Vespasian was pitched, and the white tents and glittering banners glanced gaily in the sunshine. Marcellus wandered in the shade of a grove of palms, and looked with admiration and emotion on the scene before him; but it was not the natural beauty of the landscape which chiefly excited his feelings, nor was it the animating view of military preparations or the thoughts of military glory that now filled the heart of the young soldier. No, his soul was absorbed in thoughts of days gone by, and his imagination pictured to him the scenes that had once been witnessed on the shores of that now tranquil lake. His fancy once again peopled the grove in which he stood with a multitude of Galilean peasants and rude fishermen, with men, women, and children, all hushed in silence, and listening with deep attention to the words of one individual who stood in the midst of them, and on whom every eye was turned. No rays of visible glory shone round the head of the speaker—no heavenly light illuminated his features—his form was as that of other men; and yet, oh how different! There was a calm majesty in his person, and an expression of godlike mercy and compassion in his mild and dignified countenance, that separated him immeasurably from all the human beings that surrounded him. And from his lips proceeded such gracious, such piercing words of instruction, of reproof, of love, and of pity, that Marcellus awoke from his deep reverie, exclaiming, "Truly never man spoke like this man! O blessed Jesus! would that I had seen thy day on earth, and had lived a humble fisherman on these shores, that I might have heard thy voice, and followed thy steps, and ministered to thee and died with thee!"
So thought and so felt the ardent young convert; and so have thought and felt many a sincere Christian, while recalling to his mind the days when his Saviour walked upon the earth, and marvelling at the unbelief and hardness of heart, and faithless conduct of those who beheld his miracles and heard his instructions; yes, even of those chosen few who were privileged to be his followers and his friends. But "let him that thinketh he standeth, take heed lest he fall." Had we been brought up in the errors and prejudices of the Jews in those days, we too might have rejected and disbelieved the Messiah in his poverty and humility; and let us beware that with all the light of the Gospel, and all the advantages of a Christian education, we do not practically reject the Saviour, and in our lives deny him. Let us ask of him strength to cleave to him through all temptations and all trials, and faith to believe in him, though as yet we see not his face; remembering his own words of encouragement, "Blessed are they who have not seen, and yet have believed."
Marcellus lingered long in the shady grove. Before he left Rome he had been presented by his beloved teacher, Clement, with a small copy of the Gospel of St. Matthew; and this treasure he always carried about him, and eagerly sought every opportunity of studying it, when he could do so unobserved. He now drew it forth, and unrolled the long and narrow strip of parchment on which it was inscribed. It was written in Hebrew, but his long residence in Jerusalem, and his constant intercourse with the family of Zadok, had made him familiar with that language, and he read with interest and delight until the shades of evening warned him to return to his father's tent.
"Ah," thought he, "if Naomi and Claudia were but with me, here in the scene of the miracles and the preaching of Him whom now they despise, how would I read to them the words of his own mouth, and how would I endeavour to repeat to them all that I heard from my venerable friend at Rome, and to touch their hearts and convince their minds with the narratives, the arguments, and the entreaties that he employed to remove the thick cloud of ignorance and prejudice in which I was enveloped, and to bless me with the light of the Gospel of Christ! Naomi at least worships the one Almighty and true God, though in error and in darkness; but my poor Claudia, she, alas! is yet in idolatry, May the Lord Jehovah give power and strength to the words of her friend, and bring her to the knowledge of Himself, and so prepare her to receive the truths of Christianity! And my father, too, shall he live and die in his idolatry? God forbid! Alas, alas, my dear kind mother is gone beyond the reach of human teaching. She is in that world where no doubts or uncertainties remain; and though she died in ignorance and unbelief, yet surely it was only because the truth was never revealed to her. Her heart was pious and humble; she sought for God, and found him not, because she was surrounded with the gross darkness of idolatry; and surely He who died for all hath wiped away her sins and redeemed her soul, although she knew Him not."
Marcellus had fondly loved his mother, and her death had been embittered to him by the reflection that she died a heathen; and now he sought to assuage his grief by dwelling on the mercy of his God and Saviour, and trusting that as so "little had been given to her, much would not be required." This is a hope which we have reason confidently to indulge; for we are taught that the mercy of the Lord is infinite towards those who act up to the light that is given to them, and thus "having no law, are a law unto themselves."
Full of such reflections, Marcellus entered the camp, and passed along the lines of tents that formed broad and straight streets, thickly peopled with soldiers and the numerous followers of the army. In his father's tent he found Javan, whom he had not seen since his arrival at Tarichea. Though they had lived so much together in the days of their childhood and early youth, the great dissimilarity in their dispositions had prevented them from forming any friendship; and Marcellus could not but recall the numerous instances of unkind and arbitrary conduct that had so warmly roused his indignation against Javan in former days, and produced sharp altercation between them. But now he met him as a prisoner, humbled, though unchanged, and his newly acquired Christian principles taught him to forgive his enemy, and to comfort him in his distress. And then he was the brother of Naomi, though most unworthy to be so nearly connected to one so amiable, and generous, and lovely; and therefore the young Roman met him with an open kindness of manner that somewhat surprised the crafty and suspicious Javan.
It was however his interest to conciliate Marcellus, and he received him with an appearance of cordiality, and entered with him and Rufus into a long and interesting conversation upon their friends in Jerusalem, and the prospects of the capital being soon subjected to a siege, unless the rulers consented to a submission. Captivity had not subdued the spirit of Javan, and all his fierceness broke forth at such a suggestion. Death in its worst form, would, he declared, be far preferable to such a degradation; but while he made the assertion, his hearers remembered how he and his general had so lately consented to purchase their lives at the expense of their liberties, and Rufus could not quite conceal the smile that curled his lip while he listened to such bold professions. Javan saw and understood the smile, and his heart was filled with rage; and he inwardly vowed to be revenged when once more at liberty, and in a situation to encounter his benefactor with arms in his hand.
Marcellus saw but little of him for some time after this meeting, for his time and attention were soon occupied by the active proceedings of the siege. A sudden and vigorous sally was made by the fugitive Tiberians who had taken refuge in the city, upon a point where the military works were rapidly advancing; they dispersed the workmen and destroyed their labours; and when the troops advanced in strong array against them, they fled back and escaped without any loss of life, A large party of them took refuge in the vessels that lay in their port, being unable to reach the gate from whence they had come forth; and then they pushed off into the lake, and cast anchor in a regular line, within reach of the missiles of their enemies, and commenced a battle, which terminated without any decisive effect.
The next day Marcellus was summoned to go forth with six hundred of his comrades to disperse a large body of Galileans, who were assembled in a plain before the city. When Titus, who commanded this troop of horse, arrived within sight of the insurgents, he perceived that their numbers were so immense, that he thought it necessary to demand further succours, and sent a messenger to his father for that purpose; but before the reinforcement could reach him, he resolved to charge the enemy. He made a short and spirited address to his men, and exhorted them not to shrink from encountering the multitude before them, but to advance boldly and secure the victory before their fellow-soldiers arrived to share the glory. He then placed himself at their head and prepared to lead them on, when four hundred horse appeared on the field, sent by Vespasian to strengthen his forces. His men were rather disposed to be angry than to rejoice at this arrival, so eager were they to uphold their character for bravery by meeting the enemy unsupported. Titus led the attack, and at first met with a firm resistance; but the Jews could not stand against the long spears of the cavalry, and overpowered by the weight of the horses and the force of the charge, they fled in confusion towards the city. The cavalry endeavoured to cut off their retreat, and the havoc which they made among the fugitives was dreadful, though numbers of them escaped and rushed in at the gates.
The inhabitants saw that there was no hope of their resisting the foe, and desirous of preserving their lives and property, they proposed a surrender of the town; but the Tiberians and other strangers steadily refused to comply with this desire. The dissension became loud and tumultuous, and Titus hearing the noise and confusion within the walls, cried out to his men to seize the opportunity of making a vigorous attack, while the attention of the besieged was distracted by civil discord. He leaped upon his horse, and dashing into the lake, entered the city where it was undefended by the strong wall that enclosed it on all other sides. Numbers of his troops followed him; and such was the consternation of the besieged at this sudden and unexpected entrance, that they remained as if stupified, and attempted no resistance. The insurgents and many others sought to save themselves by rushing to the lake, but they met the Romans pouring into the city, and were slain before they could regain the streets.
When Titus ascertained that the chiefs of the rebel party were slain, he commanded his soldiers to cease from carnage; but he sent to inform his father that numbers of the inhabitants had escaped in boats, and had pushed out to sea beyond the reach of the archers. Vespasian immediately had several vessels prepared, and embarked a detachment of troops to pursue the fugitives to the middle of the lake. The light boats of the poor Galileans could offer no resistance to the Roman vessels, and they could only row swiftly round them, and endeavour to annoy the legionaries by throwing stones and darts among them, which merely served to irritate their pursuers. The shores were lined with hostile troops; and if they attempted to take refuge in some creek or rocky inlet, they were met by fierce enemies, or followed by the Roman barks, and pierced by their long spears, as they stood above them on their lofty decks. Many of the boats were crushed by the larger vessels, and when the drowning crew rose above the water, they were transfixed by the arrows and lances of their infuriated foes. The surface of the lake, that so lately sparkled in peaceful beauty, was broken with forms of death and struggles of agony; its blue waters were tinged with blood, and for several days a corrupt vapour rose over its whole extent, bearing fearful witness to the multitude of slaughtered human beings that were concealed beneath. The verdant shores were scattered over with disfigured and unburied corpses, swollen and decaying beneath the burning sun; and the Romans themselves loathed to look upon the dreadful work of their own hands. Marcellus was not yet inured to scenes of cruelty and blood; and his heart sickened when he beheld the smiling, and in his eyes sacred, shores of the Galilean sea thus polluted with the remains of such ruthless barbarity.
For the cruelty of this massacre Vespasian may not be charged; but a blot remains upon his name for one action which succeeded it, and never can it be effaced by his glory in after days. Numbers of strangers had been taken captive by the Romans at the conquest of Tarichea, and as they were looked upon as the most determined rebels, they were kept distinct from the other prisoners. A tribunal was erected in the city, and the general proceeded to pass judgment on these offenders against the majesty of Rome. Instigated by some of his officers, he resolved on putting all these unfortunate strangers to death, lest, having no homes, they should wander through the country exciting riot and rebellion. But he feared to execute his barbarous decree in the streets of Tarichea, nor did he choose to expose to the whole city his cruel violation of the promise that had been given to these unfortunate men when they surrendered. He therefore ordered them to retire from the city, but only by the way that led to Tiberias. Hitherto the word of the Romans had been looked upon as inviolable, and the wretched wanderers proceeded forth by the route which was commanded them. But they found the road guarded and blockaded on every side, and they could not proceed beyond the suburbs. Vespasian himself pursued them into the Stadium, and there twelve hundred of the aged and helpless were slain in cold blood; and six thousand, who were considered most fit for work, were reserved to be sent to Nero, and to be employed in labouring at some of his wild schemes; while thirty thousand were sold as slaves, besides a number that were presented to Agrippa.
Doubtless multitudes of these unhappy creatures were ruffians and vagabonds, whose object was to excite war and commotion in order that they might escape the due punishment of their crimes; but no considerations of this nature can palliate the cruelty and falsehood of Vespasian.
Many of the Galilean towns laid down their arms and opened their gates to the Romans, dismayed at the fearful example that had been set before them; and only Gamala, Gischala, and Itabyrium, with a few smaller towns, continued to hold out a defiance. Gamala was even considered a stronger fortress than Jotapata; and proud of its situation, the inhabitants refused to submit to the conqueror. But after a long and terrible siege it fell, on the 23rd of September, A.D. 67, and every inhabitant was slain, except two sisters of Philip, Agrippa's general; and they contrived to hide themselves from the cruel visitors. We will not any longer dwell on the horrible scenes of carnage that took place. To escape the swords of the Romans, many hundreds of men threw their wives and children down the precipices, and then dashed after them to swift and certain destruction.
Itabyrium had fallen, and Gischala, Jamnia, and Azotus, alone remained in arms. Terrified by the fate of the neighbouring towns, the inhabitants would have submitted, but a strong faction within the walls, headed by John the son of Levi (better known as John of Gischala), prevented them from capitulating; and Titus was sent against the city at the head of a thousand horse. He saw that he might easily take it by assault, but he was weary of bloodshed, and probably also was aware of the peaceful disposition of the inhabitants, and he offered them terms if they would surrender. The wily John prevented the people from approaching the walls, which were manned by his own party, and he himself replied to the message of Titus. He affected great moderation and perfect acquiescence to the proposed terms; but stated that the day being the sabbath, the Jews could not proceed to comply with them without violating their most sacred laws; and therefore he begged for a delay. Titus complied with this apparently reasonable request, and even withdrew his troops to the town of Cydoessa, at a little distance.
John perceived that his artifice had succeeded; and at midnight he stole out of the city with all his band of armed followers, and a multitude of others, with their families and property, who had resolved on flying to Jerusalem. But soon the strength of the women and children began to fail, and they could follow no longer. The men abandoned them, and proceeded rapidly, leaving those who should have been their first care to perish unheeded and alone. The hard-hearted John urged his men to greater speed; and the miserable women sat down with their little ones to die in darkness and despair, while they listened to the departing footsteps of their cruel husbands and fathers, as the sounds died away in the increasing distance.
Titus appeared at the gates of the city the following day, to claim the performance of the terms that had been agreed upon; and the inhabitants who remained within the walls gladly threw them open, and delivered themselves up with their families into the hands of the conquerors. When he learned the treachery of John, he immediately sent a troop of horse to overtake him, but he had escaped beyond their reach, and they returned to Gischala, bringing with them three thousand women and children, and having slain six thousand of the weary fugitives who had slackened their pace, and were separated from their selfish leader and his robber band. The conduct of Titus was marked with clemency and moderation towards the captured city: he merely threw down a portion of the wall, and left a garrison in the place to keep possession. Shortly after the surrender of Gischala, Jamnia and Azotus also followed its example, and received Roman garrisons; when the season being advanced, Vespasian closed the campaign, and retired to Cæsarea with his army.
Sculpture on the Arch of TitusSculpture on the Arch of Titus
The subjugation of Galilee had hitherto employed the whole of Vespasian's army; and such had been the courage and obstinacy displayed by the Jews, that it had cost the Romans much labour and pains to subdue the rebellious province. The leaders of the nation in Jerusalem had sent no forces to assist their Galilean brethren, nor had they used any other means for the relief of the besieged places. All their time and all their strength were wasted in violent civil dissensions, and furious struggles for power and authority in the metropolis. Perhaps also they hoped that the patience of the Romans would be exhausted, by the long continuance of the war in Galilee, and by the time and labour that were required to reduce one rebellious town after another; and that they would at length depart, and leave Jerusalem to its assumed independence. But far better would it have been if they had employed the time that was allowed them in preparing for the part which they ultimately had to perform; and if instead of admitting John of Gischala and his unprincipled followers into the city, they had sought to compose the dissensions that already existed, and to unite under one chief, for the general protection and safety.
But the fame of John had reached their ears, and the fact that he had been the rival and the enemy of the now despised Josephus, only raised him in the estimation of the people. As soon as it was known that he was approaching the city, multitudes flocked out to meet and welcome him. The exhausted and breathless condition of the men and their horses too plainly told that they had travelled far and fast; but the deceitful John assured the inquiring populace that they had not fled from necessity or fear, but that they were unwilling to spend their strength and courage in the cause of meaner towns, and had come to shed their blood in the defence of the capital. This reply, however, did not satisfy all who heard it; and, from the evident confusion and discomfiture of the fugitives, and the dreadful details of massacre and ruin which they received from some of the men, they felt convinced that they had fled to save their lives from the Roman vengeance, and foreboded the fate that probably awaited themselves. John was a man of subtle and insinuating manner, and he employed his eloquence and his artifice successfully in persuading the people of Jerusalem that the Roman power was already so broken, and their troops so wearied and dispirited, that they would never venture to enter on the siege of such a formidable place as their beloved city.
The young and daring listened and applauded with loud shouts of approbation, but the old men doubted and feared for the future. The party of John was increased by numbers of fresh adherents, and the city became more than ever the scene of discord and violence. One faction was for war, another for peace; and the conflicting opinions distracted the public councils, and divided even private families into fierce and opposing parties. Every individual who had power or wealth sufficient, gathered around himself a band of adherents; and these lawless companies overspread the neighbouring country, insulting, robbing, and murdering the unoffending peasantry, who refused to join them in their crimes and violence. Multitudes of the inhabitants of the villages, believing that they could have nothing worse to fear from the Romans than what they suffered from their own countrymen, fled to the garrison towns; but the Romans either rejoiced in the civil discord and mutual destruction, or considered that they had no concern in their quarrels, and they afforded the sufferers but little protection.
At length a powerful and numerous body of these marauders contrived to get into Jerusalem, and establish themselves permanently in the Holy City. They were not expelled or opposed; for the warlike party hoped by the accession of these bold and daring men, to gain strength for the defence of the metropolis. But they only added to the misery and tumult that already reigned within the walls; and with the multitude of persons who flocked from the neighbouring towns and villages, to take refuge in Jerusalem, they greatly hastened the consumption of provisions, which ought to have been reserved for a time of need, and famine began to be felt among other evils and woes.
The wise and excellent Zadok, with a few of his friends who were not actuated by avarice, ambition, or revenge, strove to stem the torrent of sedition and violence, and preserve order and decorum among the populace. But what could the efforts of a few individuals, however well-directed, effect against the influence of bribery, and passion, and intemperance, and licensed crime? Beyond their own families and immediate dependents, their counsels and warnings were unheeded and despised: and robberies, burglaries, and assassinations took place in the open day in the streets of Jerusalem. The robbers seized on Antipas, a man of royal blood, who had the charge of the public treasures, and cast him into prison. The next victims were Saphias and Levias, two members of the Herodian family, and many others of noble rank shared the same fate.
The people saw and feared; but so long as they were themselves unmolested, they took no measures to stay the growing evils. Emboldened by their present impunity, the ruffians proceeded to greater atrocities, and unwilling either to release their prisoners, or to keep them any longer captive, they sent ten of their party with drawn swords into the prison, who speedily massacred the unfortunate captives. At length they dared to invade the sacred temple, and insult the majesty of Heaven with their impieties: the very holy of holies was entered and polluted by the feet of the murderers; and then the indignation of the populace broke forth. Ananus, the eldest of the chief priests, was the acknowledged leader of the party opposed to the robbers. He was a man of wisdom and moderation, but he now incited the people to resistance; and the band of Zealots fled to the temple, which they made their head-quarters, and turned into a garrison. That holy and beautiful house of God, the object of the fondest veneration and pride to all the inhabitants of Jerusalem, was now the scene of warlike preparation and boisterous intemperance; and instead of hymns of prayer and praise, and the harmony of musical instruments, its marble and gilded walls re-echoed with the shouts and songs of the drunkards, or the clash of arms.
The Zealots even presumed to elect a high-priest by lot, and proclaimed the deposition of Matthias, who had a rightful claim to that dignity. The people rose unanimously at this sacrilegious act; and even those of the priests who had hitherto sought to preserve peace, now exhorted them to throw off the yoke of the Zealots. Zadok joined with Ananus and Joseph, and others, and both in public and private harangued the infuriated populace.
An assembly was convened, and Ananus, in a long and eloquent speech, pointed out to his hearers the state of degradation to which they had allowed themselves to be reduced, far more disgraceful than if they had submitted to the power of the Romans; and as he spoke, he turned his tearful eyes towards the violated temple, and reproached the people with abandoning it into the hands of robbers. He was listened to with deep attention, and at the close of his harangue the crowd around him demanded to be led instantly to the rescue of the temple. The spies of the Zealot party who were among the multitude, gave them instant intelligence of the feeling which was excited against them, and while Ananus and Zadok were ordering their forces, a band of these robbers fell upon them. The battle raged with fury; numbers were slain on both sides, and their bodies carried off. Those of the Zealots who fell were borne back to the temple, and the polished marble pavement was stained and polluted with their blood. The populace pressed on, and drove the Zealots back into the temple, following them within the sacred walls with furious cries. The robbers passed the outer court, and secured the gates of the next enclosure against their pursuers; and Ananus would not allow his followers to press their advantage, and assault the gates, for he feared to commit violence in so holy a spot, or to take his people into that court which was yet polluted with slaughter and crime. He therefore retired, leaving six thousand men in the cloisters, to keep guard and watch the motions of the robbers.
The subtle John of Gischala had hitherto professed to support the cause of Ananus, but all the while he maintained a correspondence with the adverse party; and to prevent his double dealing from being suspected, he made such vehement protestations of fidelity to Ananus, and so readily took an oath of obedience and devotion, that the priests and their party were entirely deceived, and admitted him into their most secret councils, and even deputed him to go to the temple, and endeavour to bring their enemies to terms.
The traitor undertook the mission; but no sooner was he within the temple walls, than he threw off the mask, and addressed the robber crew as if he had taken an oath to support them, and not to oppose them. He told them that he had incurred serious dangers in the endeavour to befriend them; that schemes were now being concerted for delivering the city up to the Romans: and that their destruction was inevitable, as Ananus had resolved to get into the temple, either under the pretence of performing worship, or else by main force; and he warned them that if they did not obtain some succour speedily, they would be at the mercy of the enraged populace. The leaders of the Zealots were Eleazer, the old enemy of Ananus, and Zacharias, the son of Phalea. They readily believed that vengeance would be taken on them by the opposing party; and instantly adopting the crafty suggestions of John, they despatched swift messengers to the Idumeans, to demand their assistance.
These fierce and uncivilized people were incorporated with the Jews as one nation; but they retained the love of adventure which belonged to their Arab blood, and the application of the Zealots was received with wild cries of joy. They hastily assembled, and formed themselves into a regular army of twenty thousand men, under the command of James and John the sons of Lofas, Simon the son of Cathlas, and Phineas the son of Clusothas, This numerous and powerful body advanced immediately towards Jerusalem, proclaiming that they were marching to the relief of the capital.
Suddenly they appeared beneath the walls and demanded admittance. The gates were closed, and Jesus, one of the chief priests, was deputed by Ananus to expostulate with them. He proposed to them either to join with the inhabitants in punishing those who caused the present tumult, or to enter without arms and mediate between the contending parties; or else to depart again to their own homes, and leave Jerusalem to finish its own internal war. All these propositions were rudely refused by the Idumeans; and Simon the son of Cathlas, replied, that they came to protect the patriotic party against those who wished to sell them to the Romans, and they were resolved to accomplish this design. His words were received with loud shouts by the Idumeans, and Jesus returned to Ananus, discouraged and apprehensive.
Simon encamped before the gates, and thus the party of Ananus found themselves besieged by two separate forces. The Zealots could not communicate with their new allies, for they were closely shut up in the temple; and the Idumeans could gain no access to them. Their camp was inconvenient, and in an exposed situation; and many of them repented of their hasty march for as night drew on a fearful tempest gathered over the city, and broke with such violence as to strike terror into all who heard it; and every heart trembled in the conviction that it was a dreadful omen of coming destruction and woe. The rain fell in torrents, and was accompanied by terrific thunder and lightning, while the earth shook with the frequent vibrations of an earthquake. The Idumeans were exposed to the violence of the storm, with but little shelter, except their own broad shields, which they locked together over their heads, and thus obtained some protection from the heavy rain; while the Zealots looked forth from their elevated situation in the temple, anxious for the fate of their new allies, and eagerly sought some opportunity of rendering them assistance. Some of the most daring among them proposed to sally forth amid the darkness and tumult of the storm, force their way to the gates, and open them to admit their friends; trusting by the suddenness and fury of their assault, to overpower and scatter the guards who were placed in the outer court. But the more prudent objected strongly to this desperate measure, as they knew that the guards were more numerous than their own party, and also that the city walls and gates were closely watched, to prevent a surprise from the Idumeans. It was likewise the nightly custom of Ananus to pass up and down continually, and see that the sentinels were all at their posts, and he was now expected every moment.
On this one dreadful night, this necessary precaution was omitted. Perhaps Ananus trusted to the strength of the guard, which had been doubled since the arrival of the Idumeans; or perhaps from the violence of the tempest, he felt assured that no attack would be attempted at that time. Whatever were his motives, assuredly they were overruled by an all-directing Providence, and made instrumental in bringing about the destruction and massacre which were permitted that night for the chastisement of a rebellious people. The darkness was profound; the storm raged fearfully; and many of the guard stole away for rest and shelter. This negligence was discovered by the watchful Zealots; and seizing on the sacred instruments of the temple, they proceeded to wrench off the hinges of one of the gates, and thus to open to themselves a way into the streets. The whistling and roaring of the wind, and the loud claps of thunder, drowned the noise of their operations, and a strong party of them reached the walls of the city undiscovered. They immediately applied their saws and crowbars to the gate, near which the Idumeans were encamped, and quickly tore it open.
The Idumeans at first suspected that this was some artifice of Ananus, to draw them on to destruction and they retreated in terror; but soon the Zealots approached, and reassured them, offering to conduct them to victory and revenge; and had they instantly made an attack on the city, nothing could have prevented a fearful and general slaughter. But their guides persuaded them first to hasten to the temple, and rescue the remainder of their party ere the guard should be aroused; for if those who watched the gates were once secured, and the whole band of Zealots released, they were assured that the conquest of the city would soon be accomplished amid the darkness and confusion of night.
Meanwhile the Zealots in the temple were anxiously awaiting the result of their enterprise; and when they found that the Idumeans were entering the sacred enclosure, they boldly came forth and joined them, and then altogether falling on the guard, many of whom were buried in a profound sleep, they commenced a fearful slaughter. The guard at first gathered themselves together, and made head against their assailants; but when they found that the Idumeans were among their foes, they were convinced that the city was betrayed, and the greater part of them threw down their arms in a sudden panic. A few of the youngest and most courageous still maintained the conflict, and supported the attack of the Idumeans, while some of the older men escaped, and fled shrieking down the streets, awaking and alarming the slumbering inhabitants with an announcement of the dreadful calamity. They were answered by the screams and cries of women and children, sounding shrilly through the storm; while the wild shouts of the Idumeans and the Zealots came fearfully from the heights of Mount Moriah, and murky clouds gave forth their awful flashes and pealing thunders. No mercy was shown by the Idumeans to any of the guard who fell into their hands. In vain they appealed to the sanctity of the holy temple for protection; even its most sacred precincts were deluged with blood; and in despair many of the terrified men threw themselves headlong from the lofty rock on which the temple stood, and were dashed to pieces in the deep abyss below.
DEATH OF ANANUS.DEATH OF ANANUS.
The whole of the outer court was strewed with the dead and dying; and when daylight broke on this awful scene of carnage, eight thousand five hundred bodies were found heaped on this one spot.
But the pure light of day did not put an end to the deeds of darkness and of blood that disgraced it. The ruffian band broke into the city, slaying and pillaging on every side. Ananus—the wise, the patriotic Ananus, on whom rested the hopes of all the rational and well-disposed inhabitants—and Jesus the son of Gamala, were seized and put to death, and their bodies trampled under the feet of their murderers, who reproached them with being traitors to the nation. To such a height did they carry their barbarity, as to cast forth the mangled remains of these priestly men to be devoured by dogs and birds of prey, in defiance of the superstitious veneration which had ever been entertained by the Jews towards the bodies of the dead. Had Ananus lived, doubtless the affairs of Jerusalem might have terminated more favourably; but her time was come, and it pleased God to remove all obstacles to the fulfilment of his righteous decree. With the venerable Ananus expired all hopes of peace with the Romans, and all prospect of tranquillity in the city; and the Jewish historian dates the utter ruin of Jerusalem from the death of this deeply-regretted man.
Having exercised their cruelty on these distinguished persons, the Idumeans raged with uncontrollable fury among the rest of the inhabitants, and slew multitudes of the meaner sort like so many wild beasts; but the young men and the nobles they cast into prison, in the hope that they might be induced to join their party. Not one complied with their wishes, and though scourged and tortured they yet resolutely endured, until their tormentors put an end to their sufferings by death.
During the bloody scenes of this terrific night, of which we have given but a faint sketch, the family of Zadok were agitated by the deepest anxiety. A few days previous to the arrival of the Idumeans, Naomi had left the city with her uncle Amaziah, and his wife Judith, to reside for a short time with them in a beautiful country-house which they possessed near the village of Bethany. Her return was expected on that fatal day, when a host of barbarous enemies so suddenly and unexpectedly appeared before the walls of Jerusalem. The gates were immediately closed and strictly guarded, and orders were issued that no person should, on any pretence, be allowed either to pass in or out of the city. Zadok was hastily summoned to assist the council of Ananus; and in trembling anxiety did Salome, and Claudia, and the aged Deborah, remain seated on the housetop, looking out over the dense multitude of Idumeans beneath the walls, and straining their eyes in the direction in which they expected Naomi and her friends to approach. What might be their fate if they came within sight of the barbarous invaders?—and from the hollow situation in which the Idumeans were encamped, they could not be perceived by those descending the Mount of Olives, until they might be so near them as to render escape impossible.
In this emergency, what course could be pursued, and how would it be practicable to send intelligence to Amaziah of the alarming state of the city! Salome at length resolved to go herself to Ananus, and entreat his aid and counsel. The present state of suspense was not to be borne, and any danger was preferable to the chance of her lovely and beloved daughter falling into the hands of the barbarians. The dreadful thought inspired even the timid Salome with courage; and covering herself with a thick veil, she descended from the flat roof of her dwelling, and went forth into the crowded and tumultuous streets, followed by several armed servants, and accompanied by the faithful Deborah, who could not be persuaded to remain behind.
The way by which Salome had to pass to the house of Ananus was thronged with men, many of them armed, and all in a state of great excitement. The adverse parties which tore the city with their dissensions were not united by the common danger that now threatened them, and loud and angry were the voices that fell on the ears of the trembling Salome as she hastily pursued her way through the crowd, and expected every moment to be assailed by the rude hands of robbery and violence. Happily the minds of all men were so much occupied with the dangers that then menaced the city, that Salome and her little group of attendants passed unnoticed, and reached the lofty portico in front of dwelling of Ananus in safety. The marble stops were crowded with priests and elders, and the chief men of the city, who were hurrying to and fro, to execute the orders of Ananus, or to join in the deliberations that were going forward in the council-chamber. Salome was at first unheeded, and sought in vain to obtain admittance to the chief-priest; but at length she raised her veil to look around among the throng for some one with whom she was acquainted, and who would conduct her to Ananus. The first countenance that met her gaze was that of Zadok, who started with surprise and alarm at beholding his gentle and timid wife so far from her home, and exposed to the tumult and disorder of the excited populace.
He hastily approached her, and inquired what could have led her forth at such a time. And when Salome felt that she was leaning on the arm of her intrepid and high-minded husband her confidence returned, and she quickly told him the object that had brought her thither, and had made her almost forget her own danger in anxiety for the safety of Naomi. In the hurry and occupation of the last few hours, it had not occurred to Zadok that his daughter had appointed that day for her return to the city, and thus might be exposed to the peril of falling into the power of the Idumeans. But now his whole soul was filled with apprehension on her account; and, accompanied by Salome, he hastily entered the council-chamber, and entreated that he might be permitted to go out of the city by one of the gates the furthest removed from the Idumean camp, and endeavour to make his way by secret paths to the house of Amaziah, in the hope that he might be in time to warn him of the danger of approaching the city.
Ananus hesitated; he was most unwilling to be deprived of the council and the assistance of Zadok at a period of so much danger and anxiety; and he also dreaded his falling into the hands of the enemy, who would show no mercy to one who was well known to be his friend and adviser. But the perilous situation of Naomi and her relations moved him, and he demanded whether no other person of courage and fidelity could be found who would go on the errand, and who could be better spared than Zadok, in case it should be found impossible to return into the city. The mission was a dangerous one, and who could be found ready to undertake it? Zadok again requested that he might himself go forth, and promised at all risks to attempt a speedy return. At that moment Theophilus, the son of Amaziah, entered the apartment, and begged permission instantly to depart from the city and seek his father. He had been to the house of Zadok, and there Claudia had informed him of Salome's fears, and her errand to Ananus, and he had hurried after her to offer himself as the messenger.
Ananus gave his consent, and Salome saw the brave youth depart, with a feeling of joy that her husband was not exposed to the perils of the enterprise. Zadok then himself conducted her home, and immediately returned to the council; while his wife and Claudia again took their station among the flowering shrubs with which the roof was thickly planted, and from whence, unobserved by the crowds beneath them, they could perceive the movements of the multitudes both within and without the walls, and watch for the distant figure of Theophilus when he should pass over the highest part of the road to Bethany.
The day closed in, and darkness covered the scene with even greater suddenness than usual, for thick clouds had gathered over the sky, and the sun went down into a red and lurid horizon. Soon the rain fell heavily, and Salome and her young companion were forced to leave the housetop and take refuge in their apartment, where they passed the whole of that tremendous night in fear and watchfulness, listening to the warring elements without, and trembling when, amid the fury of the tempest, they heard the savage shouts of the Idumeans and the nearer cries of the fugitives from the temple.
Zadok had not returned to his home that night; at the close of the evening he had sent a messenger to inform his wife that the deliberations were still continued, but that before midnight he purposed going the rounds of the guard with Ananus, and would afterwards hasten back to his family. Midnight came, but then the storm raged furiously, and Salome hoped that Zadok was safe in the house of Ananus. As the hours passed slowly on, the terrors of that night increased, and Salome knew from the tumult and the shouts, that some fierce commotion was going on in the city. Her fears were strongly excited for Zadok, who being with Ananus, and well known to be a powerful supporter of his party, would be exposed to the vengeance of the Zealots, if they had broken forth from the temple.
Fervently did she implore the Divine protection to shield him from harm, while Claudia and Deborah joined their prayers to hers; and amid all their fears and anxiety, they could not but rejoice that Naomi at least was removed from this scene of terror, and, as they hoped, yet enjoying a temporary peace in her uncle's house.
When the day began to dawn, they looked forth into the street, and though their dwelling was near the walls, and situated at a considerable distance from the principal thoroughfares, where the work of carnage had been chiefly performed, yet numbers of human bodies were scattered on the ground—the mangled remains of those who had fled to this secluded part of the city for refuge, but had been pursued and murdered by their savage enemies. No living beings were to be seen in the desolate street, except a few lean and hungry dogs which had crept out to tear and devour the yet warm carcases that promised them an ample meal; but the din of war and cries of agony and fear resounded from the temple and the higher parts of the city. Salome's heart sickened, and she turned away: might not her noble, her beloved husband, be already as one of these lifeless corpses? In agony of mind she wept, and poured out her soul before the Lord.
Her attention was recalled by a loud exclamation of joy from Claudia. "Oh, Salome," she cried, "here is Theophilus. He is approaching the house, and doubtless he brings tidings of our dear Naomi." The affectionate girl ran swiftly down to the court; and unbarring the heavy gate that opened into the street, she even ventured several paces beyond the threshold in her eagerness to know the fate of her friend. Theophilus assured her that Naomi was safe; and then having carefully secured the gate, he followed her to the vestibule, where Salome met them, and there hastily told them the particulars of his expedition. He had narrowly escaped being taken by some scattered parties of the Idumeans, and had only saved himself by his swiftness in running, and his intimate knowledge of the paths through the groves and orchards by which he had to pass. He had happily succeeded in eluding his pursuers, but only just in time to prevent the cavalcade of Amaziah and his family from ascending the hill on the eastern side, and appearing in full view of the Idumean sentinels. His father had received no intelligence of the arrival of their army, and was returning with Judith and Naomi to the city, as he had appointed. On hearing the disastrous news, however, he immediately turned back, and hastened again to the house from which he had come. There he placed his wife and Naomi, in as great security as the circumstances would permit, and left all his servants well armed under the direction of his faithful steward Josiah, to protect them from any wandering bands of robbers, or Idumeans. Amaziah had then accompanied Theophilus back to the city, and in the darkness and tumult of the storm, which had become violent by the time they reached the walls, they had escaped the observation of the Idumeans, and passed safely to their own house. There they had remained until the shouts of the Zealots and their allies had aroused them to a knowledge of the distracted state of Jerusalem, and called them from the shelter of their home, to mingle in the tumult, and give their aid in opposing the massacres and pillage that were going forward.
Their efforts to reach Ananus had been in vain, for they found his dwelling entirely surrounded by a dense crowd of infuriated Zealots, crying loudly for his blood; and Amaziah had therefore again retired to his home, with a few of his friends, to seek some means of succouring the chief-priest and restoring order to the city; "While I," continued Theophilus, "have hastened to you, Salome, to satisfy your mind of the safety of your daughter, and to inquire whether my uncle is with you, for my father earnestly desires to confer with him."
"Alas!" cried Salome, "Zadok has not appeared at home during the whole of this dreadful night. He was with Ananus when the storm commenced, and I have remained in the agony of suspense ever since. I know not whether he yet lives, or whether the ruffians who now rage through the city have destroyed the noblest, the wisest, the most virtuous man who dwelt within its walls. Oh, Theophilus! he is your father's only brother!—will you not endeavour to save him? or will you not at least seek for some intelligence of his fate, and let me know the worst? If he is slain—oh!—save his sacred form from the insults of the murderers. Bear it to me, and let me once more behold, though lifeless, that countenance which is dearer to me than all on earth beside. Take with you all the men of our household; we have many faithful servants, and they are well provided with arms. They will risk their lives to save their master, or to rescue his honoured remains from the sacrilegious hands of the Zealots. Go, summon the domestics, and sally forth. Lose not a moment, and the blessing of a breaking heart shall be with you."
Theophilus was deeply moved by the grief of Salome, and the danger of his uncle. He had seen the house of Ananus beset by the Zealots, and he knew that Zadok would find no mercy from them. He did not however add to the fears of Salome by expressing his own; but hastily complied with her entreaties, and set out, attended by all the servants except two or three, whom he charged to guard the gate, and on no account to open it until his return.
His absence was long. To Salome it appeared endless; and more than once she and Claudia ventured to the housetop and looked along the street, in the hope of seeing him return. Once the sound of coming footsteps made her heart beat violently, and she gazed out in hope and in fear; but it was only a party of wretched women and children flying down the street, and soon appeared their pursuers, with drawn swords reeking with blood, and gained rapidly on the miserable fugitives. Salome and Claudia retreated with a cry of horror. They saw not the massacre, but the shrieks that rose upon their ears told them but too plainly that the work of death was done. The ruffians turned towards their dwelling, and they heard them loudly demanding an entrance, and even striking at the gate with their swords. But it was too strong for their efforts, and they were already almost satiated with plunder and carnage. They retreated, and the trembling inmates heard them pass along the street, which echoed with their wild shouts and impious songs.
All Salome's resolutions and endurance were exhausted. Her naturally timid spirit had been roused to unusual excitement and energy; but these feelings had subsided, and she sank into a state of exhaustion, and almost of stupor. Had Zadok been by her side, she would have felt some confidence, but his absence and her apprehensions for his safety were more than she could bear. Even if Naomi had been with her she would have been some support. Her sanguine temper and courageous spirit would have suggested fresh hope and inspired fresh confidence; but Claudia was unable to administer comfort which she did not feel, or to combat terrors that filled her own breast also.
Meanwhile Theophilus and his band of armed servants hurried along the streets towards the house of Ananus. Every dwelling which they passed appeared to be deserted; for where the inhabitants had not either been slain, or fled to some cave or hiding-place for refuge, they had carefully closed and barricadoed every gate and entrance to their houses, and remained concealed within, expecting the arrival of the Zealots and Idumeans, to rob, to murder, and to destroy. The pavements were strewed with human bodies, and stained with gore: it seemed a "city of the dead;" but the peacefulness of death was not there—the tumult had not ceased. The murderers had only gone further in quest of other victims, and richer plunder; and the sounds of conflict and slaughter were audible in the distance.
Theophilus reached the splendid dwelling of Ananus. The crowd had abandoned it; and the open gates and scattered wreck of costly furniture told that the work of destruction was completed, and that the venerable priest no longer dwelt in his marble halls. It was evident that a severe contest had been maintained on the grand flight of steps leading to the entrance; for there the dead bodies of the combatants lay heaped together; and beneath the dreadful burden Theophilus beheld the robe of Zadok. It was a garment of fringes, the work of Naomi's hands, and he well remembered to have seen his uncle attired in it when he met him the previous evening in the council-chamber. His worst fears were then realized; and the noble Zadok had fallen, probably in the defence of his friend and chieftain; and all that he could now do for the wretched Salome, would be to carry home the lifeless body of her husband, and thus afford her the melancholy satisfaction of bedewing it with her tears, and rendering to the honoured clay the holy rites of sepulture, so sacred to the heart of a Jew. No sooner did the servants perceive the body of their master, than they broke forth into loud cries of grief and rage, and demanded vengeance with all the vehemence of their national character; but Theophilus commanded them to be silent, and to lose no time in disengaging the corpse from its present situation, and bearing it away; for he feared that their outcries might attract the attention of the Idumeans, who were prowling all over the city, and that their object might then be frustrated. Hastily the men obeyed him; and having removed the mangled carcases that lay heavily above the body of Zadok, they raised it from the ground, and carried it into the vestibule, that they might procure a couch on which to transport it home.
They were startled on entering by a rustling sound, as of some person escaping from the vestibule; and on following the steps of the fugitive, they overtook one of the domestics of Ananus, who had escaped the notice of the murderers, and was anxiously watching for an opportunity to flee from the palace unobserved, when he saw a party of armed men enter the house, and concluded that they belonged to the Zealot party. The eight of Theophilus, who was well known to him, restored his courage; and he immediately directed his attendants where to procure a couch, on which the body was immediately laid, and a richly embroidered curtain, which had been dropped by the plunderers, was thrown over it. The servants placed their long spears beneath the couch, and in this manner carried it forth into the street and proceeded, with the greatest possible expedition towards their home. They were within a few paces of the gate, when a party of drunken Idumeans sallied out of a neighbouring house loaded with spoil, and placing themselves before the melancholy cavalcade, demanded what they were thus secretly carrying away? On being informed that it was merely the body of a friend, they tauntingly replied, that dead bodies were now too plentiful to be worth so much trouble, and insisted on uncovering the corpse. To avoid a struggle, Theophilus raised the lower end of the covering, and when the ruffians saw that it was really a human body, they uttered a shout of derision, and one of them wantonly cast a javelin at the corpse, which pierced the arm, and the blood flowed profusely over the damask curtain. The Idumeans knew not the rank of Theophilus, nor were they aware that it was the body of Zadok, the friend of Ananus, that was being carried to its rest, otherwise they would probably have attempted to wrest it from the attendants; but satisfied with insulting it, they went on their way to seek more profitable adventures.
At the voice of Theophilus, the servants left on guard unclosed the massy gates, and uttered a cry of despair when they beheld the bier. The cry reached Salome's ears, and roused her to animation. She rose to rush forward and ascertain the cause, but her trembling limbs refused to support her, and she sank again into her seat, with a feeble sign to Claudia to hasten to the court. Claudia flew along the gallery, and met the procession at the entrance of the hall. The whole sad truth rushed upon her mind, and in deep grief she returned to her afflicted friend. Pale and speechless she appeared before Salome, and when she met her inquiring gaze, she replied only by a burst of tears. Salome saw that all hope was over, and a deep swoon deprived her for a time of the consciousness of her bereavement.
When at length she recovered, she desired instantly to be led to the spot where her husband was laid; and leaning on Claudia and her faithful Deborah, she entered the hall. In the centre of the marble pavement stood the funeral couch, yet covered with embroidered drapery. With a desperate effort Salome approached, and raising the drapery, she sunk upon her knees with a passionate exclamation of despair, to gaze upon the beloved but motionless countenance. Oh what words shall tell her feelings when she heard a struggling sigh from Zadok's lips, and saw those eyes which she believed to be closed for ever, slowly open, and fix upon her face a look of wonder and of love! She thought her brain was wandering, and covered her eyes that she might not cheat her heart with vain delusions. But then the voice of Zadok came upon her ear as if it had been the voice of an angel, and though weak and faltering, she could not doubt those tones. The ecstasy, the gratitude, the wonder, that filled and overpowered her heart, may not be described by any human pen. Those who know what it is to recover once again a being dearer far to them than their own life, alone can know what Salome felt.
Restoratives were quickly procured, and in a short time Zadok was sufficiently recovered to relate the events which had occurred, previous to the time when he was struck to the earth by a heavy blow from the butt of a broken spear; and ere his senses returned, he must have been buried beneath the bodies that rapidly fell around him. Ananus had that night, as we have seen, omitted to go his usual rounds to inspect the guard, but had continued in deep consultation with the counsellors until long after midnight. Their deliberations were at length interrupted by a sudden and violent uproar, and on going to the entrance to discover the cause, they saw by the light of torches, that the street was filled with armed men. A shout, as if from a host of demons, greeted the appearance of the priests and elders, and a furious rush was made by the Zealots up the flight of steps, on the summit of which they were standing. Vain was it to address them; and vain would it have been to fly. A struggle for life or death was maintained a few moments, but overpowered by numbers, they quickly fell. Zadok knew not the fate of Ananus: it was in warding off a blow aimed at the head of his chief that he had been struck to the earth, and remained insensible to the conclusion of the tragic scene.
The servant of Ananus, who had accompanied Theophilus to Zadok's house, now informed him that the aged priest had been seized and slain, and that with him was murdered Jesus, the son of Gamala. Their bodies were dragged away by the savage troop, and he feared must have been subject to the grossest indignities.
Zadok groaned when he heard that Ananus had fallen. He loved and respected him as a friend; and in him alone had he placed any confidence, as the means of restoring peace to his distracted country. But his present weakness prevented him from taking any active measures, and forced him to think of his own preservation and recovery. The wound which had been so cruelly inflicted by the Idumean, had in fact been the cause of his restoration to life; for the blood had flowed freely, and combined with the rapid motion and fresh air, had removed the stupor consequent on the blow he had received, and which might doubtless have ended in death had not circulation been restored by the javelin of the robber.
It was a very happy circumstance that the fall of Zadok had been seen by many of the Zealots, and that the belief of his death became general, otherwise his well-known character would have exposed him and his family to destruction. And as his weakness compelled him, though most unwillingly, to remain idle within his own walls, no inquiries were made about him; and his house was left unmolested, except by wandering bands of robbers, who found the gates too strong for their efforts. Amaziah, who had passed that night of horror in active exertions to assist the unoffending inhabitants, repaired to his brother's house, when he found he could no longer be of service in the contest, and that the Zealots were complete masters of the city. He had heard and believed that Zadok was slain, and his joy was great at finding his brother alive, when he had only hoped to be a support and protection to his widow. He only remained a few days with his brother, and then returned to his anxious wife, leaving Theophilus as a comfort to Salome and Claudia.
For many days the massacre continued, until at length the Zealots were weary of such indiscriminate slaughter, and affected to set up the forms of justice. They composed a Sanhedrim of seventy of the populace, and before this court they arraigned Zacharias, the son of Baruch, a man of worth and high character, and with no fault but that of being rich and patriotic. The Zealots thirsted for his wealth and his blood; and they accused him of holding correspondence with the Romans.
Zacharias boldly defended himself from their charges, and despairing of saving his life, he ridiculed his accusers, and set them at defiance, and even reproached them with their iniquity and injustice. The Zealots drew their swords, but ere they used them, they called on the judges to condemn the innocent victim. The Sanhedrim unanimously acquitted the prisoner, and declared that they would die with him rather than condemn him to death.
Then the fury of the Zealots broke forth, and two of them rushing forward, struck Zacharias dead, as he stood undaunted in the court of the holy temple. They then dragged the body along the pavement, and cast it into the abyss below. They beat the judges with their swords, and drove them out of the court with every indignity.
The Idumeans, now satiated with plunder and revenge, began to repent of the bloody work in which they were engaged, and declared that they had come to Jerusalem to defend the city against the Romans, and not to share in murder and rapine; and they announced their intention of abandoning the Zealots to themselves. Before they departed, however, they opened all the prisons, and released two thousand of the people, who immediately fled away and joined Simon the son of Gioras. The populace, relieved of the presence of the Idumeans, began to resume their confidence, and many ventured out in open daylight, to gather up the bodies of their friends for burial, or to cast over them a little earth where they lay, to protect them from the birds of prey and ravenous dogs. But the Zealots did not lay aside their power or their cruelty, with the departure of their allies; they continued their lawless iniquities, and every day fresh victims fell.
The state of the city was well known to Vespasian, and his friends besought him to march to the capital, and at once put an end to the war. But he preferred leaving it to its own inward distractions, which he was convinced would soon bring it to utter weakness; and he was encouraged in this opinion by the multitude of deserters who every day flocked to his camp; though some of these afterwards returned to Jerusalem of their own accord, that they might die in the holy city, so great was their attachment to the hallowed spot.
During all this confusion, John of Gischala pursued his ambitious schemes; and at length all the real authority and power was centred in him. The Zealots now formed two parties; one surrounded John as a despotic chief, the other composed a lawless democracy; and both vied with each other in cruelty and oppression towards the people. To add to the miseries of war, tyranny, and sedition, the Sicarii or Assassins, who had obtained possession of the fortress of Massada near the Dead Sea, now sallied out and surprised Engaddi, during the night of the passover (A.D. 68), and slew about seven hundred persons. Other bands collected in the neighbouring regions, and the whole country was filled with confusion and rapine.
Absalom's TombAbsalom's Tomb
Far different to the scenes we have just described were those which Naomi was called to witness; and had not her mind been harassed with anxiety for her beloved parents and her young friend Claudia, she would have considered the days which she passed with her relatives, in their beautiful country residence, as the happiest of her life. It was not that the scenery around her was lovely, and the air was fresh and pure, in the elevated spot on which the house was situated; nor was it because Amaziah and Judith had always loved her as a daughter, and now treated her with the most affectionate kindness, that Naomi felt it was a blessed privilege to be under their peaceful roof. On the first evening of her arrival with her relatives at their country-house, Judith had proposed to her that they should walk to Bethany; and to the surprise of Naomi, they no sooner entered the village than her aunt proceeded to the cottage where Mary dwelt.
The aged Christian was alone; but solitude was not sad to her, for the bright prospects of futurity, and the blessed remembrances of the past, shed a heavenly light over her lonely and humble abode. She rose to meet her visitors with a smile of cheerful welcome; and Naomi was startled and almost terrified when she saluted her, in the hearing of her aunt, with her accustomed benediction, "The blessing of our Lord and Saviour be upon you, my child."
Judith saw what was passing in her mind, and hastened to remove her apprehensions. She took her hand, and said, "I have brought you here, my dear Naomi, that in the presence of our venerable friend I may acknowledge to you that I also am an unworthy disciple of that Lord and Saviour whose name you have been taught to worship. She who has been the blessed instrument of bringing you to the knowledge of the truth, was also the means of removing the dark cloud of error and prejudice that hung over my mind and that of Amaziah. Many years have elapsed since the happy change took place; but our safety required that it should be kept secret; and as so much of our time has been passed in the country, our renunciation of the religion of our forefathers was not discovered. Often have I wished and prayed that the time might come when I could be permitted to instruct you, Naomi, in the truths of Christianity; but I felt that I should be abusing the confidence reposed in me by your parents if I attempted to do so without their knowledge and consent. The very strong prejudice which your excellent father entertains against the disciples of Jesus, made it hopeless for me to expect that consent; and I could only offer up my fervent prayers, that in his own good time the Lord would call you to the knowledge of himself. My prayers have been answered, and you may imagine my feelings of joy and gratitude when Mary informed me that you had confessed your sincere faith in the Son of God."
Naomi's astonishment was only equalled by her delight at finding that her beloved relatives were also united to her in the bonds of one faith, and one hope in Christ.
"Now," she exclaimed, "I shall feel that I am not alone and divided from all I love on earth. Oh that my father and my mother, and my poor misguided brother would also believe in the Redeemer, and find that rest to their souls which I never knew, until I was convinced that in him my sins were blotted out, and that by his death my salvation was purchased. And all this I owe to you, my excellent—my beloved teacher. I saw that amid poverty, and persecution, and infirmity, you were happier than the wealthiest, the proudest of the self-righteous Jews with whom I was acquainted; and I felt sure that nothing but a true faith could produce the heavenly calm that reigned over your soul. And when I heard of the love and pity, the wisdom and power of Him in whom you put your trust, I could no longer wonder at your joy and peace; and thankfully I acknowledge, that, in a humble degree, the same faith and the same hope now animate my soul."
Long and interesting was the conversation of these Christian friends; and Judith informed her niece of the particulars of her own and her husband's conversion to Christianity, and their admission by baptism into the church of Christ at Jerusalem. Theophilus had also sincerely embraced the same religion, and had received the sacred rite several years since. Naomi was surprised to find how numerous had been the company of Christians in Jerusalem; until the period when James, the brother of the Lord, and the first bishop of that city, was murdered.
"Since that unhappy event, which you, Naomi, must well remember," added Judith, "the church has been dispersed and persecuted; and those of its members who have remained in Jerusalem have feared to appear so openly as they ventured to do during the life of that upright and excellent man."
"I do remember his death," replied Naomi, "and I also well remember my father's indignation at the cruel manner in which he was slain. Though he looked upon James the Just as a mistaken and deluded man, and despised his religion, yet I have often heard both him and his friends say that he well deserved the title which was bestowed on him of 'the fortress of the people,' for that he commanded the love and admiration of the whole city, from his divine temper, and his meekness and humility. My father even once declared, since the troubles of our nation commenced, that he considered the barbarous murder of that righteous and venerable man as a principal means of bringing the wrath and the chastisements of God upon the city. He was present when James was led to the top of the temple-wall, and placed there in sight of the collected multitude below, in the hope that he would declare to them his conviction that Jesus of Nazareth was not the long-promised Messiah; and he shared in the general disappointment when, instead of doing as was expected, the venerable saint lifted up his voice, and loudly proclaimed that Jesus was the Son of God. But my father did not join in the cry to hurl him from the wall—he would have saved his life, if possible; but the infuriated populace cast him down the precipice. I have seen the tears in Zadok's eyes, when he has described to us the old man rising on his knees after the fall, in which he miraculously escaped being killed, and with uplifted hands praying for mercy on his persecutors. Oh! how hard must have been the hearts of those who could behold him thus, and not be moved to pity, but stoned him as he knelt! If he were living now, with what different feelings should I regard him from those which I entertained when, as a child, I learned to call him Nazarene, as a term of reproach, though even then I never saw his holy countenance without an emotion of awe and veneration!"