Naomi

by Mrs. J. B. Webb

CHAPTER VII.

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.

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 Tomb