For the Temple: A Tale of the Fall of Jerusalem

by G. A. Henty

"My friends," he said, "listen to me, if but for the last time. We, at least, have nothing to reproach ourselves with. We have fought for the Temple, to the last; and if we failed to save it, it is because it was the will of God that it should perish. At any rate, our duty is done. God has not given us our lives, and preserved them through so many fights, that we should throw them away. It is our duty, now, to save our lives, if we can. Now that the Temple has fallen, we are called upon to do no more fighting.

"Let the bands of John of Gischala, and Simon, fight to the last. They are as wild beasts, inclosed in the snare of the hunter; and they merit a thousand deaths, for it is they who have brought Jerusalem to this pass, they who have robbed and murdered the population, they who have destroyed the granaries which would have enabled the city to exist for years, they who refused the terms by which the Temple might have been saved, they who have caused its destruction in spite of the efforts of Titus to preserve it. They are the authors of all this ruin and woe. They have lived as wild beasts, so let them die!

"But there is no reason why we should die with them, for their guilt is not upon our heads. We have done our duty in fighting for the Temple, and have robbed and injured none. Therefore, I say, let us save our lives."

"Would you surrender to the Romans?" one of the band asked, indignantly. "Do you, whom we have followed, counsel us to become traitors?"

"It is not treachery to surrender, when one can no longer resist," John said, quietly. "But I am not thinking of surrendering. I am thinking of passing out of the city, into the country around.

"But first, let us eat. I see you look surprised but, although the store we brought hither is long since exhausted, there is still a last reserve. I bought it, with all the money that I had with me, from one of Simon's men, upon the day when we came hither from the lower town. He had gained it, doubtless, in wanton robbery for, at that time, the fighting men had plenty of food; but as it was his, I bought it, thinking that the time might come when one meal might mean life to many of us. I have never touched it, but it remains where I hid it, in my chamber. I will fetch it, now."

John ascended to his chamber, and brought down a bag containing about fifteen pounds of flour.

"Let us make bread of this," he said. "It will give us each a good meal, now; and there will be enough left to provide food for each, during the first day's journey."

The exhausted men seemed inspired with new life, at the sight of the food. No thought of asking how they were to pass through the Roman lines occurred to them. The idea of satisfying their hunger overpowered all other feelings.

The door was closed to keep out intruders. Dough was made, and a fire kindled with pieces of wood dry as tinder, so that no smoke should attract the eye of those who were constantly on the lookout for such a sign that some family were engaged in cooking. The flat dough cakes were placed over the glowing embers, the whole having been divided into twenty-four portions. Some of the men would hardly wait until their portions were baked; but John urged upon them that, were they to eat it in a half-cooked state, the consequences might be very serious, after their prolonged fast. Still, none of them could resist breaking off little pieces, to stay their craving.