We need not question his sincerity, therefore, when he offered his sword to the lords of the Philistines and protested against their mistrust of himself. Nor would the fact that he had been on the side of the Philistine enemy have been prejudicial to his future interests, if he already cherished the hope of being the successor of Saul. It was in Judah, among his own tribesmen, and not in Northern Israel, that the foundations of his kingdom were to be laid; it was only the Jews, consequently, whose good-will it was needful for him to secure. If he already aimed at extending his power over all Israel, a defeated and broken Israel would be more easily won over to him than an Israel proud of its independence and strength, and attached to the house of a sovereign who had led them to victory.[[448]] David’s loyalty to Achish, however, was never put to the test. He and his mercenaries were sent back to Ziklag, and their dismissal from the field of battle was in itself an insult which would serve as a pretext for a quarrel with the Philistines should the need or opportunity for one ever arise. But when they reached their homes, they found there only desolation and ruins. The Bedâwin Amalekites had made a raid upon the undefended town, had burned its buildings and carried away the women and the spoil. There was no longer any Saul to repress their attacks, or to exact vengeance for their incursions.
Mutiny broke out among the mercenaries. They accused David of having torn them from their families, thus leaving Ziklag to the mercy of the foe. He was the cause of the disaster, and they began to talk of stoning him to death. The priest Abiathar came, however, to his rescue, and announced through the ephod the word of Yahveh that the robbers should be overtaken and the spoil recovered. At once, therefore, the pursuit commenced. The Bedâwin tracks were followed in such haste that when the desert was reached, only four hundred out of the whole band of six hundred had strength enough to proceed. Then an Egyptian was found who had been a slave among the Amalekites, and having fallen ill on their retreat from Palestine had been left to die upon the road. The departure of the Philistine army had exposed the Negeb to the attack of the Bedâwin, and they had not been slow to take advantage of it.[[449]] Only three days had elapsed since they had passed the spot where the slave was found, and he offered himself a willing guide to the Hebrews in their quest of his former masters. The Amalekite tents were soon reached, and the nomads were found feasting on the abundant plunder they had gained and dancing in fancied security. Suddenly at twilight the Hebrews fell upon them, and an indiscriminate slaughter took place. The massacre went on for twenty-four hours, and none of the Amalekites escaped except about four hundred young men, who succeeded in mounting their camels and flying beyond pursuit. All the spoil they had carried off fell into the hands of their conquerors, including the two wives of David himself. The flocks and herds were given to David: the rest of the plunder was divided among his followers, the two hundred men who had been left on the road being allowed, after some dispute, to share it equally with their fellows.[[450]]
David, with characteristic foresight, sent portions of the spoil that had been allotted to him as a ‘present’ to ‘the elders of Judah’ in the chief towns of the tribe. The Jerahmeelites and Kenites were not forgotten, nor the Calebites of Hebron. Some of the plunder was sent as far south as Hormah and Zephath, as well as to Aroer and Ramoth of the south. Reuben and Simeon had now ceased to exist as separate tribes, Simeon having been absorbed into Judah while such cities of Reuben as still remained Israelite had been occupied by ‘the elders of Judah.’[[451]]
David’s object in sending the presents was cloaked under the pretext that they were made to those who had befriended him in the days of his wandering. But the pretext was more than transparent. His wanderings had never extended to Hormah or Aroer, or even to ‘the cities of the Jerahmeelites.’ A crown was already within measurable distance of the Jewish chieftain: his soldier’s eye had seen that the Israelitish army was no match for that of the Philistines, and the priests who were with him were assured that Yahveh had forsaken Saul, and would work no miracle in his favour. The Philistines were once more dominant in the south, and a victory at Gilboa would make that domination secure. David possessed the confidence of Achish, and as the vassal of the Philistines he could count on their support were he to make himself the king of Judah. All that was needed was the good-will of the Jewish elders, and this his victory over the Amalekites gave him the means of purchasing.
On the other hand, were the Philistines to be defeated, and the Hebrew army, contrary to all probability, to be victorious, David’s position would be in nowise affected. He would still be safe among the Philistines, out of reach of Saul, and at the head of a formidable band of mercenary troops. The pretext for sending the presents could be urged with some show of reason: they were merely a return to the friends who had aided him in the time of his necessity. Now, as ever, David could indignantly disclaim any intention of plotting against the ‘anointed of the Lord.’
While David was thus looking after his own interests, events were fighting for him in the north. The Israelites at Gilboa were utterly defeated, and all Israel lay helpless at the feet of the heathen. Saul was slain along with his three elder sons; only a minor, Esh-Baal, was left, who was carried for safety to the eastern side of the Jordan. Israel was without either a king or a leader; even its army was lost. For a time the mercenaries of David were the only armed force that still remained among the tribes of Israel.
Saul had fallen on his own sword. Wounded by an arrow, he had prayed his armour-bearer to slay him lest he should fall still living into the hands of his foes. But his armour-bearer refused to commit the act of sacrilege, and the king slew himself. His body, like those of his sons, was stripped and hung in derision from the walls of Beth-shan. But the inhabitants of Jabesh of Gilead could not forget that Saul had once saved them from the Ammonite, and they went by night and carried away the ghastly trophies of Philistine victory; the bodies were first burnt, then the ashes were buried under a tree at Jabesh, and a fast of seven days was held for the dead.
The Philistines do not seem to have crossed the Jordan. They contented themselves with occupying the country west of it, and garrisoning the cities from which the Israelites had fled. The monarchy had fallen, and the house of Israel appeared to have fallen with it. From Dan to Beersheba the Philistine was supreme.
Deliverance came from the south, from the latest born of the Israelitish tribes. The mixed Israelite, Edomite, and Kenite population, which had there been slowly forming into a united community, now found a common head and leader in the son of Jesse. David, too, was of mixed descent. His great-grandmother had been the Moabitess Ruth, and on his father’s side he was partly of Calebite origin.[[452]] Mixed races have always shown themselves the most vigorous and the most fitted to rule, and the history of the Israelitish monarchy is no exception to the general law. A purely Israelitish dynasty had failed, as it was destined to do again after the revolt of the Ten Tribes; it needed the genius and tact of the Jewish David to establish the monarchy on a lasting basis and defend it against all enemies.
The news of the death of the king of Israel was brought to David by an Amalekite. He had robbed the corpse of its crown and golden bracelets which he laid at the feet of the Jewish chief. In the hope of a reward he had come in hot haste and pretended that he had dealt the final blow which delivered David from his enemy, and opened to him the way to a throne.[[453]] But he met with an unexpected reception. The story of the disaster aroused in David his slumbering patriotism, his affection for Jonathan, and his old reverence for Saul. Now that he had nothing any longer to fear from the Hebrew king, and everything to gain by his death, he could allow his impulse and emotions to have free play. He turned in anger upon the messenger, demanding of him how he—a stranger and an Amalekite—had dared to lift up his hand against the anointed of Yahveh. Then he ordered his followers to cut down the luckless Bedâwi, whose blood, as he told him, was upon his own head. After their recent experience the nomad thief was likely to have but a short shrift at the hands of the mercenaries.