For the Temple: A Tale of the Fall of Jerusalem

by G. A. Henty

Giving orders to his men to lay aside their arms, and calling Jonas to accompany him, John without hesitation turned to accompany Simon. The latter had hardly expected him to accept his invitation, and the readiness with which he did so at once pleased and gratified him. It was a proof of fearlessness, and a testimony to John's belief in his faith and honor. John of Gischala, treacherous himself, would not have placed himself in his power, whatever the guarantee he gave for his safety; while he himself would not have confided himself to John of Gischala, though the latter had sworn to his safety with his hand on the altar.

John, himself, was struck with the rugged grandeur of Simon's appearance. He was far above the stature of ordinary men, and of immense strength; and there was, nevertheless, an ease and lightness in his carriage which showed that he was no less active than strong. His face was leonine in expression. His long hair fell back from his forehead, his eyebrows were heavy, his eyes were gray and clear; with a fierce and savage expression when his brows met in a frown, and his lips were firmly set; but at other times frank, open, and straightforward in their look. The mouth was set and determined, without being hard; and a pleasant smile, at times, lit up his features. He was a man capable of strong affections, and generous impulses.

He was cruel, at times; but it was an age of cruelty; and Titus himself, who is held up as a magnanimous general, was guilty of far more hideous cruelties than any committed by Simon. Had the latter been master of Jerusalem from the first, and had not the granaries been destroyed in the civil war, the legions of Titus would never have achieved the conquest of the city.

Ascending the steep slope of the valley, they passed through the gate in the first wall and, turning to the right, entered the Palace of Herod, which was at once a royal dwelling, and a fortress of tremendous strength. Much as John's thoughts were otherwise occupied, he could not help being struck by the magnificence and splendor of this noble building; but he said nothing as Simon strode along through the forum, passed out beyond the palace itself, entered the strong and lofty tower of Phasaelus, and ascended to its summit.

An involuntary exclamation burst from John, as he gained the platform. From the point on which he stood, he commanded a view of the whole city, and of the country round. Far below, at his feet, lay the crowded streets of the inner town; between which and the outer wall the ground was thickly occupied by houses of the better class, standing half-embowered in trees. Close beside him rose the stately towers of Hippicus and Mariamne. Behind him was the Palace of Herod, standing on the ground once occupied by the Castle of David. On the east the Palace of Agrippa partly obscured the view of the Temple; but a portion of the building could be seen, standing on its platform on the summit of Mount Moriah. To its left, and connected with it by two lines of cloisters, was the castle of Antonia while, still further along, was the fort known as Acra. Behind the Palace of Herod, and its superb gardens, were scattered the palaces and mansions of the wealthy Jews and strangers which, with their gardens, occupied the whole of the upper part of Mount Zion. On the lower slope of Mount Moriah, lying between the Valley of Jehoshaphat and that of the Tyropoeon, was a densely-populated suburb known as the New Town. Westward, beyond the Tower of Hippicus, lay the valley of Hinnom, with the Dragon Pool glistening in the sun while, at a distance of four or five miles, to the southward could be seen the village of Bethlehem. The whole country outside the walls was a garden, with countless villas, mansions, and groves of trees.

For some minutes, John looked round in admiration of the scene, while Simon stood with his eyes fixed upon the road crossing Mount Scopus. Suddenly he uttered an exclamation, and John joined him, and looked in the direction in which he was gazing. The white line of the road was darkened by a moving mass, sparkling as the sun shone on arms and armor.

"They come, at last," Simon said and, as he spoke, cries of wailing and lamentation were heard from the walls, far below them.

The four years that had elapsed, since danger first threatened Jerusalem, had deepened the impression in the minds of the Jews that the enemy would not be permitted to approach the Holy City. It was true that their faith had been sorely shaken, by many strange prodigies. A strange light had shone about the altar and the Temple, and it was said that voices had been heard from the Holy of Holies, saying, "Let us depart hence." The Beautiful Gate of the Temple, which required the strength of twenty men to close it, had opened of its own accord. War chariots and armies had been seen contending in the clouds; and for months a great comet, in shape like a flaming sword, had hung over the city. Still men had hoped, and the cry from the watchers that the Roman army was in sight struck dismay among the inhabitants. There were still many without the walls. Some of these rushed wildly into the gates, and entered the city; while the wiser fled away to the hills, and made their way to their homes.

Titus, as he reached the brow of Mount Scopus, reined in his horse and looked for some time, in silence, at the great and magnificent city which extended before him; and there can be little doubt that he would fain have spared it, had it been possible. Even a Roman could not gaze on the massive beauty of the Temple, unmoved. It was the most famous religious edifice in the world. From all parts, pilgrims flocked to it; and kings made offerings to it. It was believed by the Jews to be the special seat of their deity; and the Romans, partly from policy, partly from superstition, paid respect and reverence to the gods of all the nations they subdued, and annual offerings had been sent by Rome to the Temple.

Titus may well have wished to spare the city the ruin and misery of a siege, to preserve the Temple intact, and to hand over to King Agrippa, uninjured, his palace and capital. In all the wide dominions of Rome, there was not a city which approached Jerusalem in beauty and grandeur; and Titus must have felt that whatever honor would accrue to him, from its conquest, would be dearly purchased by the linking of his name, to all time, as the destroyer of so magnificent a city. Similar emotions were felt by the group of officers who rode with Titus, and who reined up their horses as he did so. With them, the military point of view was doubtless the most prominent; and as they saw, from their lofty vantage ground, how the deep valleys of Hinnom and Jehoshaphat girt the city in on either side, and how stately and strong were the walls and towers, they may well have felt how mighty was the task which they had before them.