CHAPTER XXI.
Marcellus and his father reached the Roman camp in safety on the preceding night, when they escaped from the plan laid by Simon and Javan for their destruction. As they descended the hill that lay between Jerusalem and the Valley of Thorns, the vast encampment lay before them like a fortified city. A large space had been cleared and levelled by the pioneers; and there, in an incredibly short time, the camp was formed according to the usual plan of the Roman army. It was an exact square, and surrounded on every side by a strong rampart about twelve feet high, the top of which was armed with a line of almost impenetrable palisades; and a ditch, twelve feet wide and twelve deep, also ran at the foot of the rampart as a further security. These prodigious works were executed by the soldiers themselves, who were accustomed to use a spade or a pickaxe with almost as much readiness as a sword or spear, and were always kept employed in some useful manner by their commanders when not engaged in the actual duties of warfare. A vacant space of two hundred feet in width was left inside the ramparts, and the tents were pitched in the remaining portion of the vast enclosure. They were arranged so as to form broad and straight streets, and in the centre of the whole rose the lofty and magnificent pavilions of Titus, ornamented with the emblem of the eagle, so sacred in the eyes of every Roman soldier. A strong tower had been already erected at each corner of the camp, and the intervening space withinside the rampart was lined with scorpions, catapultas, balistas, and other ponderous and dreadful engines of destruction. A handsome gate was placed in the rampart on each side of the encampment, sufficiently wide to admit the broad and heavy waggons and military carriages that attended the movements of the army; and also of strong detachments of troops sallying forth with unbroken ranks.
The strictest order and decorum were preserved throughout this populous camp, which were rigidly enforced by the general and his subordinate officers. The soldiers were summoned by the sound of trumpets to their regular meals, and the same signal warned them when it was time to retire to rest, or to arise and begin the business of the day. The clear blast of the evening trumpet was sounding through the camp when Rufus and Marcellus entered the gateway; and ere they reached the quarters of Titus the wide streets were almost deserted, and none remained abroad except those whose duty it was to patrol the different districts, and keep watch while their comrades slept.
The expedition in which Marcellus had that night been engaged was known and permitted by the general, with whom he was a great favourite. Titus had listened with considerable interest to the story of his attachment to the young Jewess, and would willingly have done anything in his power to rescue her from the dangers to which she must soon be exposed; but no open measures could be of any avail, and he could only hope that the scheme of his young friend might be crowned with success. He allowed him to take from the ranks of his own troop such a number of men as he might think sufficient for his purpose, and gave orders that he and his attendants should be permitted to pass unquestioned through the gates of the camp at any hour, either of the day or night. He had sympathized in the disappointment of Marcellus, when on the two preceding evenings he had repaired to the garden in the Valley of Jehosaphat, and returned without any tidings of Naomi; but he encouraged him in his determination to visit the appointed spot on each following night, and wait in patient hope for better success. All that hope was now gone, and Marcellus hastened to his kind commander to communicate to him how all his expectations had been frustrated, and his fears that Naomi might even be subjected to oppression and restraint, in consequence of the discovery which had been made by her brother of his unsuccessful attempt to rescue her from impending evil.
The young soldier and his veteran father were immediately admitted into the presence of Titus, who was busily engaged in looking over plans and maps of Jerusalem and the surrounding country, and revolving in his mind the plans of future proceedings, and the best mode of commencing an attack on the rebellious city. He ceased from his employment on the entrance of his visitors, and heard the account of their meeting with Javan with attentive interest, and sincere commiseration with the mortified feelings of Marcellus. The only consolation which he could offer him was in the prospect of a speedy vengeance on the crafty Jew, and the possibility of saving and rescuing Naomi when the Roman arms should have conquered Zion, and a way should be opened for their entrance within her proud walls. But Marcellus knew that much of danger and suffering might befall his beloved Naomi long ere the courage and obstinacy of the Jews should be subdued, and the eagles glitter on the conquered towers of Jerusalem. He knew the unyielding and determined character of their opponents better even than Titus did, and he anticipated a long and desperate resistance to all their efforts. He shuddered at the idea of Naomi being exposed to all the privations and miseries, all the horrors and excesses of a besieged and vanquished city; and he retired to his own tent for the night, with feelings of anxiety and dread that effectually banished sleep from his eyes.
The signal for rising and engaging in active employment was welcome to him; and after the first and most solemn occupations of the day had engaged his attention in the retirement of his tent, he gladly went forth among his comrades, and tried to forget his own personal anxieties in the zealous performance of those duties which fell to his lot in the discipline of the camp. It was the custom in the Roman army for all the soldiers to repair in the morning to the centurions of their respective bands, and offer to them a respectful salutation. The centurions paid the same compliment to the tribunes, and they in their turn waited on the general or commanding officer, to proffer their services, and receive from him the watchword for the day, and the orders which they were to deliver to their inferior officers. These forms were attentively observed in the camp of Titus, and the tribune who presided over that part of the army to which the equestrian troop was attached, was commanded to prepare six hundred horsemen for an expedition to reconnoitre the wall of the city that morning. He was also desired to inform Marcellus that his attendance was required in the general's tent. He gladly obeyed the summons, for he hoped to be allowed to take a part in the intended movement; and any occupation of that kind was preferable to passing his time idly in the camp, and indulging his own painful reflections.
THE ESCAPE OF TITUS.
He was not disappointed, for Titus immediately communicated to him his plans, and desired him to be in readiness to accompany him, as his personal attendant, in an hour's time. They sallied forth at the hour appointed, a gallant band of horsemen, splendidly mounted and equipped, and soon appeared on the summit of the heights that looked on the walls of Jerusalem. As they wound down the last declivities that sloped at the foot of the walls they gazed in astonishment at the turbulent city. Not a man appeared upon the battlements—not a sound of preparation for resistance or attack was heard; even the gates seemed to be deserted, and that scene of violence to be hushed in perfect peace and repose. Titus led his squadron to the right, and passing the angle of the wall which was guarded by the Women's Tower, to the north-east of the city, he filed off towards the Tower of Psephina, which occupied an important situation on the north-west side, near the upper fountain. Suddenly the gates behind him were thrown open, and a vast multitude rushed tumultuously forth, and threw themselves upon the troop of cavalry. Some succeeded in passing the squadron, and placed themselves across the road by which it was advancing, and others burst violently through their ranks and separated their enemies into two parties. Titus was cut off from the remainder of his troop, with Marcellus and a few other brave followers. He could not advance, for the ground before him was divided into orchards and gardens, fenced round with walls and deep ditches, besides broad watercourses that reached to the walls of the city. To retreat was almost as impossible, for thousands of his assailants crowded between him and his troops, to intercept his movements in that direction. Titus saw that the only chance of escape lay in a desperate effort of strength and courage. He called loudly to his men to keep close to him, and with Marcellus at his side he urged forward his noble steed and charged fiercely on those who opposed him. Hundreds of javelins and arrows were discharged at him, and every effort was made to obstruct his passage and secure his person; but though he wore neither helmet nor breastplate,—for he had not anticipated that he was going forth to battle,—yet he did not receive a single wound, but passed through the cloud of missiles unharmed. With his sword he cleared a passage before him, while his well-trained charger crushed beneath his feet the wounded enemies who fell around. Marcellus bravely seconded him, and thus did they cleave their way through the dense mass that surrounded them and shouted for their destruction. The undaunted courage of Titus and his young companion excited the admiring wonder of the Jews. They exhorted one another to rush forward and secure the inestimable prize that seemed within their reach; yet still they shrank away from the rapid strokes of his bloody sword and the irresistible force of his fiery steed, as he slowly and steadily made his way through the crowd. His band of devoted followers formed around him as well as they could, and with a trifling loss the party at length reached the Valley of Thorns, and escaped from their pursuers. Two only were missing from this brave company—one had been surrounded, and with his horse pierced with countless arrows and javelins—the other dismounted incautiously, and was instantly overpowered and slain, and his horse led away in triumph into the city.
The exultation and joy of the Jews at this event were unbounded. It is true but a small advantage had been gained, yet they regarded it as the happy presage of future victory. Titus himself, the noble and all-conquering Titus, had been forced to fly, and nothing now seemed too great for their hopes and expectations. The news ran through the city with the speed of lightning, and the superstitious inhabitants hailed it as a token that the Lord would give them the victory, and that His arm would now be stretched out to save them. Javan shared the general enthusiasm, and with his pious father gave thanks to the God of Israel for this token of his favour and protection; and Simon thought it politic to encourage the same feeling among his troops. In his own cold calculating heart he trusted more to the strength of his army than to the invisible arm of Jehovah; but he knew that the Jews, however sunk in sin, and regardless of the laws of the God and their fathers, yet looked on themselves as his own peculiar people, whom he would save and defend from all those who sought their ruin. Therefore he joined with Zadok and his ardent son in openly ascribing the late signal success to the special interposition of their Heavenly Father, and in exhorting his men to courage and perseverance, under the assurance that the Divine aid would attend all their efforts, and enable them to baffle every attempt of their foes to deprive them of their freedom or their inheritance.
Zadok returned to his home that evening full of bright hopes and holy confidence, and he endeavoured to inspire Salome and his daughter with the same feelings, but in vain. Naomi ever remembered the sad prophetic words once uttered by her Lord and Saviour, and she knew that the ruin of Jerusalem was drawing nigh. Salome too had learnt from her to believe that not one jot or tittle of what he had pronounced should ever pass away unfulfilled; and her own naturally timid and desponding disposition had made her more readily assent to the truth of his declarations of punishment and woe, than to his promises of pardon and acceptance. She could easily believe that her nation should be brought low and her beautiful city destroyed, for the wickedness of them that dwelt therein; but she could not so easily apply to herself the equally clear assurance that those who put their trust in the Lord should be safe under the shadow of his wings—that those who believed in the Son of God should be cleansed from all sin—pardoned, justified, saved, and glorified, without any merit of their own, or any claim on the mercy of an offended God, but a simple reliance on the atonement of his Son Jesus.
Salome's heart was weak, and when Zadok looked to see her pallid countenance lighted up with joy at the account which he gave her of her people's triumph, he was grieved to observe her turn away and weep. Gladly would she have told him all her fears and all her anxieties, but her courage failed her, and she could only show by her dejection that she was insensible to the hopes of temporal glory and prosperity that animated her husband's breast, and unable to reveal to him the eternal hopes that, however dimly and faintly, cheered her own spirit and lightened her earthly sorrows. Zadok attributed her depression of spirits entirely to her present weak state of health, and he gently reproached Naomi for not using better endeavours to amuse her mother's mind, and at the same time regretted that he was so much occupied in the discharge of his sacred duties, and in the affairs of the city, as to have but little leisure to devote to his wife. Had he suspected the subject which formed the chief and constant theme of discourse between Salome and his daughter during his absence from home, he would still more deeply have regretted the state of public affairs that had compelled him to leave them so much alone, and expose his beloved wife to a danger which he regarded as far more to be dreaded than any temporal evils.
He had contented himself with the conviction which he entertained of Salome's pious attachment to the religion in which she had been brought up, and her implicit submission to his judgment in all spiritual matters. He also felt assured that her mind was not of that active and inquiring nature that would lead her, like Naomi, to investigate any new opinions or receive the truth of any new doctrines. He knew that she had a great veneration for the rabbi Joazer, and had always considered his opinion as a rule of faith; and when he requested him to watch over her bodily sickness, he also charged him to lose no opportunity of strengthening and establishing her spiritual health. Thus he believed that he had no cause to fear that the heresy he so much dreaded would ever be communicated to her, and he was well satisfied that the devoted affection of Naomi should watch over her, and provide for her every comfort and attention that her present precarious state of health required. Little did this priest of the Most High God understand the power of that faith which he despised. Little did he know of those influences of the Holy Spirit which can change the whole nature of the soul, and infuse a thirst after the truth that nothing else can satisfy. Little did he know of that strength of the Lord Jesus, which is made perfect in our weakness, and which was then silently and gradually working in the soul of Salome, transforming her weakness into strength—her fears into holy confidence—and inspiring her with such an assured hope of pardon and eternal bliss as should at length shine forth resplendent amid the struggles of departing life, and make her triumphant over all that hitherto she had trembled to contemplate.
As yet this power from on high was not perfected in her soul, and she was in bondage to the fears of death and the occasional dread of God's wrath; and notwithstanding all the efforts which Naomi made again and again to chase away her fears and fill her with humble trust in the promised support of her Heavenly Father, and the atonement once offered on the cross to wipe away all her sins, she was subject to frequent temptations and doubts, that clouded her views and marred her peace.
Zadok knew nothing of all her spiritual trials, and he frequently talked to her of the joys that would be her portion, if it pleased the Lord to remove her from this world of care, and the reward that would follow her constant obedience to His laws, and her humble trust in His mercy towards His chosen people. But the ground of his hopes was not that on which Salome had learned to rest, and the humility which she had acquired at the foot of the cross made her shudder at the spirit of self-confidence that tarnished the piety even of the upright Zadok. Night and morning he prayed with her, and repeatedly he read the Scriptures to her: but the form of his supplications, however earnest, now sounded imperfect in her ears, and his comments on the word of inspiration grieved her heart. Oh, could she but have heard him, who was dearer to her than all the world besides, pouring forth the desires of his heart in the name of Jesus of Nazareth—could she have heard him acknowledge the "Man of sorrows" to be Him of whom Moses and the prophets did speak, how joyfully could she have borne every other trial, and even, she thought, have encountered death with a smile, in the assured hope of his following her to those mansions which Christ has prepared for his disciples! And yet she could not at that time command her faltering tongue to declare in whom she believed, and entreat her husband to seek refuge in the ark provided for the day of calamity.
The evening passed away in the usual unsatisfactory manner; and the following day brought with it events that occupied Zadok's attention even more than before, and engrossed even more of his time.
Titus had returned to his camp in the Valley of Thorns, greatly exasperated at the unexpected attack which had been made on him, and determined to lose no time in commencing the siege of the offending city. During the night he was joined by one of the legions which he had left at Emmaus, and orders were immediately issued for the removal of the camp to a place called Scopus, within a mile from the outer wall, and so situated as to afford a fine view of the city, and of the level plain which extended to the base of the fortifications.
At break of day the business of removing the army and all its ponderous equipments commenced, and was performed with all that astonishing expedition and order that distinguished every movement of the well-trained Roman armies. Orders had been given the night before for the men to be in readiness; and soon after the sun rose, all the tents were taken down and packed in the waggons, with the rest of the heavy baggage. Then the first signal-trumpet blew, and at its sound the troops all fell into their ranks, each carrying their arms, their kitchen furniture, and their instruments for constructing fortifications. The second trumpet sounded, and instantly fire was set to temporary bulwarks and towers that had surrounded the encampment, and quickly they formed a blazing mass of ruin. The third and last signal sounded loud and long, and then the herald, who stood by the side of Titus, raised his voice, and demanded whether the troops were prepared for battle; and he was answered by a cheerful and universal shout of assent. Three times he repeated the same demand, and each time the deafening shout of the armed multitude replied to him, while the hands of the troops were raised on high to express their readiness and zeal.
The word of command was given, and that glorious array of invincible men marched simultaneously forward. Alas! that such a goodly assembly should be moving in all their pride and pomp towards the slaughter of millions of their fellow-creatures, and the destruction of the noblest and most sacred city that ever adorned the earth! The army advanced in the usual order of march: the allies led the way attended by the company of pioneers, and then the baggage of the officers, escorted by a strong guard. Titus himself followed with a select guard of spearmen and the cavalry belonging to the legions. The military engines, strongly guarded, formed the next detachment; and to these succeeded the sacred standards, attended by the trumpeters; then the legionaries in their phalanx, ten deep; the slaves with the baggage; and, last of all, the mercenary troops, with a strong rear-guard to keep order.
The equipment of this fine army was as admirable as the order and discipline that marked its movement. Nothing vain or superfluous was to be seen in the dress or ornaments of either the men or their officers; while at the same time it was evident that the Romans knew the value of a certain degree of show, and endeavoured to produce an imposing effect upon their adversaries. The accoutrements of the officers were superb and costly: their helmets, cuirasses, and swords were inlaid with silver and gold, and their beautiful and spirited steeds were richly caparisoned; while the common soldiers prided themselves on their well-polished shields and helmets. The numerous gilded banners which attended the army, in addition to the glittering eagles, increased the brilliance of the scene; and the whole of that numerous army looked rather as if they were attired and equipped for a public feast, than as if carnage and desolation were their only objects.
The Romans formed a second encampment near Scopus, two legions being in front, and a third at some distance in the rear; and while they were erecting their walls and towers of defence, the tenth legion, which had taken its route by Jericho, also arrived, and received immediate orders to pitch their tents at the foot of the Mount of Olives, facing the lofty temple walls and pinnacles.
Each of the leaders of the rival factions in the city beheld the hostile camps forming under their walls. Eleazar looked from the summit of the temple, John from the porticoes of the outer courts, and Simon from the heights of Zion; and for the first time they all became aware that their only chance of safety lay in a united effort to repel their formidable enemies. They entered into negociations of peace; and at length agreed to lay aside their mutual animosities, and combine their now divided forces for a simultaneous attack on the common foe. Zadok and Javan hailed this tardy reconciliation as a second omen that the Lord was on their side, and that he had inclined these fierce and hitherto implacable enemies to forget their personal hatred, and only contend with a valiant emulation who should be foremost in rushing on their assailants. Joyfully did the son of Zadok obey the call to arms, and hasten to join his leader. He was at his father's house when the summons reached him. He had returned to his home in search of a part of his armour for the expected sally; and Salome heard with trembling fear the call for her son to join his comrades. She gave him a mother's parting blessing; and when he was gone from her sight, she passed the anxious hours that succeeded in fervent prayers for his safety. How earnestly did she beseech her Heavenly Father to spare his life, and not suffer him to be hurried into eternity while his soul was a prey to evil passions and baneful prejudices! Naomi united in her mother's supplications; and while they were thus engaged, a fierce and bloody scene was going forward in the Valley of Jehosaphat.
The combined forces of Jerusalem had sallied out by the eastern gates, and rushing along the margin of the Kedron, had fallen with unexpected and irresistible fury upon the tenth legion, then busily occupied in constructing their camp. The soldiers were at work in their intrenchments, and many of them were unarmed. They retreated before the sudden attack of the Jews, and several of them were killed before they could regain their arms. Fresh swarms of their assailants still poured from the city, and in their consternation the Romans yet further multiplied their numbers. Accustomed as they were to fight in battle-array, they knew not how to resist the wild desultory attacks of the Jews, who rushed upon them with a blind impetuosity. Sometimes they turned and faced their pursuers, and succeeded in repulsing them for a moment and slaying the foremost; but such overpowering numbers followed to take their places, that the brave legionaries were on the verge of a total defeat, when Titus, who had heard of their danger, came suddenly to their relief. He was attended by a few picked men, and fell so unexpectedly on the Jews that he drove them up the valley with considerable loss.
The tenth legion now rallied, and united with the troops that followed Titus in pursuing the enemy along the valley; but notwithstanding the disadvantage to which the Jews were exposed, from the steepness and inequality of the ground, they yet had the courage to turn and face their pursuers after they had crossed the brook. In this situation they maintained the battle till noon, when Titus placed a part of his forces at the end of the valley, and sent the rest to occupy a strong position on the heights above, in order to secure the valley. This movement was mistaken by the Jews for a retreat; and a sentinel who had been posted on the walls, made a signal to those within the city that the Romans had fled. Instantly a fresh multitude issued from the gates with the undisciplined fury of wild beasts, and bore down the ranks of their enemies by the impetuosity of their charge. They fled to the mountains, and once more Titus and his chosen band of attendants were left exposed to the attack of the infuriated multitude. He was posted on the declivity of the hill, when he found himself deserted by the main body of his forces; but taking advantage of his commanding situation, he defended himself resolutely, while Marcellus and his comrades endeavoured to ward off the blows that were aimed at him on every side.
One of the Jews, who had distinguished himself throughout the engagement by his intrepid courage, advanced through the crowd of his countrymen to the spot where Titus and his brave company stood like lions holding the inferior animals at bay. With a desperate effort he broke through the Roman band, and aimed a deadly blow at their general. So wild and sudden was his attack, that he would probably have succeeded, at least in wounding Titus, whose attention was directed another way, but for the courage and activity of Marcellus. He saw the descending blow, and quick as thought he sprang between his commander and the fierce Jew, and arrested the weapon ere it reached the destined object. The flashing eyes of the Jewish soldier fell upon him who had thus robbed him of the triumph so nearly won, and Marcellus saw that he was again brought hand to hand in conflict with the brother of Naomi. Revenge was a passion that lurked deep in Javan's heart, and now it rose up to animate him against the young Roman. He forgot his eagerness to rush upon the general, in the hope that now he had found an opportunity of obtaining vengeance for all the injuries that his prejudiced mind laid to the charge of Marcellus.
With a bitter curse on his lips, he turned to aim his sword at the heart of the Christian soldier, and was astonished at the strength and dexterity with which his attack was met by his opponent. Marcellus would not for worlds have slain the brother of his beloved Naomi, and he contented himself with warding off the fierce blows of Javan. Had this single combat been permitted to continue for any length of time, Marcellus must have been driven either to seek the life of his antagonist, or to save his own by a retreat, for Javan was resolved to die or to conquer. But happily they were forced asunder by the rush of combatants on either side, and they met no more in that day's battle.
Those of Titus's troops who had gained the summit of the hill, and saw the enemy come pouring up on either side, and attacking their noble general and his faithful band with determined fury, were struck with horror at the critical situation to which they had abandoned him. By a loud outcry they raised an alarm among the whole legion, and spread the information that Titus was surrounded and in danger of being massacred. Bitterly they reproached one another for their desertion of their brave commander; and with the resolute courage of men ashamed of their conduct, and resolved to make amends for it, they rallied their scattered numbers, faced their pursuers, and by their determined valour at length succeeded in driving them down the hill. Every foot of ground was well contested by the Jews, but they could not long stand against the force of the Romans bearing down upon them from above in a solid phalanx, and they were compelled to retreat, entirely discomfited. Titus remained to establish a strong and efficient line of outposts, and then retired to his camp, and dismissed his wearied men to seek repose after the lengthened struggle which they had been compelled that day to maintain.
Attack of the First Wall