fortress of antonia, jerusalem
(called pilate's house).
t was early morning, not yet seven o'clock. Yet Pontius Pilate, the Roman Governor of Judæa, was astir. For the Paschal Feast of the Jews was fast approaching, and having heard rumours of strange things going on amongst them, he anticipated some serious disturbance. He was, therefore, in no pleasant humour, and his dark brow was contracted, his teeth were firmly set, and in his stern and somewhat fierce eyes was a look of mingled anger, scorn, and disgust.
How weary he was of these perpetual riots! How he despised the conquered Jews and their pretensions of religion, while their actions were mean and vile. They professed a sanctity superior to that of any nation upon earth. And yet he knew that every day they indulged in flagrant sins, and were influenced by motives that others would scorn to yield to. Oh! if he dared but show them what he thought of them and their hollow professions. But he must restrain his feelings. Several times already, in his impatience of their ways, he had given vent to his wrath in actions that, he knew too well, would not bear the examination of his master, the emperor of Rome.
The Roman emperors, bad as some of them were, liked to know that all their provinces were well governed, that the people had no just cause of complaint; and that their customs, religions, and prejudices were respected. And they would punish severely any governor who, by misrule, brought dishonour on the name of Rome.
Pilate knew that he had wilfully trampled upon the religious prejudices of the Jews, and that when they had risen up against him he had massacred them by the thousand. He remembered how he had once brought some Roman eagles from Cæsarea to Jerusalem, where no heathen ensign could be suffered; how he had also placed there some gilt votive shields, dedicated to the Emperor Tiberius; and how, to bring water from the pools of Solomon into the city, he had taken money from the sacred treasury. He remembered, too, how, when the Jews had rebelled against these proceedings, he had sent disguised soldiers amongst them, to stab them with daggers concealed beneath their garments; how he had once massacred 3,000 of them, and how at another festal season, 20,000 dead bodies had strewed the courts of the Temple. And up before his mind there came also the recollection of how, at one of their feasts, he had killed some Galilæans, and mingled their blood with that of their sacrifices upon the altar; and how he had also attacked the Samaritans, as they worshipped upon Mount Gerizim.
Yes, he had given the Jews just cause of complaint; and if he vexed them further, they might report him to Rome, and have him banished or put to death. So he would have to be careful how he treated them for the future.
The knowledge of this in nowise calmed his perturbed spirit. And as he wondered how, in case of another riot, he should manage to curb his wrathful and impatient disgust, he paced uneasily the Hall of Judgment.
This was an apartment in a splendid edifice—which was known as the fortress of Antonia—in which he resided when at Jerusalem, an old palace of Herod the Great. Its floors were of agate and lazuli. The ceilings of its gilded roofs were of cedar painted with vermilion. The bema, on which he sat to administer justice, was probably the golden throne of Archelaus. In front of the Hall of Judgment was a costly pavement of variously coloured marble, called by the Jews Gabbatha. Yet amid all this splendour he was but ill at ease.
And now suddenly the Roman procurator stopped and listened. Hooting and yelling, there were the wild cries of a dreaded mob, as he had anticipated. Yes, it was even so. They had begun early enough, those Jews. What could it be all about?
Nearer and nearer came the ominous sounds. He went to the door of his apartment, and looked out. There, coming across the bridge that spanned the Tyropœon Valley, was an infuriated crowd, venting their spleen upon some poor victim, whom they were evidently bringing to him. His arms were fast bound to His side. A rope was round His neck. And they were dragging Him along, as if He were some wild beast that they had caught in the act of making ravages amongst them.