Little did Maccabeus foresee that the powerful heathen nation, whose alliance he sought, would at a future period prove a more dangerous foe to his country than Babylon, Egypt, or Syria! Little did he foresee that Jerusalem would be trodden down by the Romans, her warriors slain, her people scattered through the earth—that through Rome she should behold her brave sons in fetters, her beautiful temple in flames! As little could he imagine that the crime for which the city of David should be given up to this fearful fate would be that of rejecting and murdering the Messiah, whose coming he, with all the faithful of Israel, awaited with hope and desire!
Before his ambassadors returned from Rome, Judas Maccabeus, by a soldier’s death, had closed his glorious career.
Demetrius the king, hearing of the defeat and death of Nicanor, sent Bacchides a second time, accompanied by the traitor Alcimus, to avenge his general, and destroy Judas and his band of heroes.
On the approach of the hostile force, a panic seemed to have seized upon the Jews, hitherto so full of faith and of courage. They remembered not the lesson which had been taught them by so many glorious triumphs, that victory is not always to the mighty, nor the battle to the strong. Silently they dispersed on every side, till their leader, deserted in his need, found that but eight hundred men remained beside him to encounter the Syrian hosts!
Sore troubled and distressed in mind at the defection of those in whose fidelity he had confided—those whom he had so often led to victory, the lion spirit of the Jewish hero still roused itself to meet the danger. “Let us arise and go up against our enemies,” he cried, “if peradventure we may be able to fight with them!”
But of that success of which he doubted, his followers despaired, and urgently counselled flight. Judas, so long accustomed to conquer, indignantly refused to turn his back upon the foe.
“God forbid that I should flee from them!” he exclaimed; “if our time be come, let us die manfully for our brethren, and let us not stain our honour!”
From morning till night raged the battle. Judas charging the right wing of the enemy with irresistible impetuosity, carried all before him, and was hot in pursuit when the left wing came up to its aid. This changed the face of the conflict. Surrounded, hemmed in by masses of the foe, but bravely fighting on to the last, Judas Maccabeus, the heroic leader, fell, and the few faithful followers who survived the bloody struggle were compelled to retreat.
The body of the hero was carried by Jonathan and Simon, his brothers, to the family sepulchre at Modin. Great were the lamentations and sorrow through Judea, as from town to town and village to village spread the tidings of the death of its prince. Many and bitter were the tears shed for the fall of Judas Maccabeus, and long was he mourned in the land for which his brave blood had been shed.