[Transcriber's notes: Inconsistent spellings of some words and names are as printed. The source book's list of illustrations did not include the full page illustrations. They have been added to this ebook.]
NAOMI
OR THE
LAST DAYS OF JERUSALEM
BY
MRS. J. B. WEBB
AUTHOR OF "HELEN MORDAUNT"
WITH ILLUSTRATIONS.
LONDON
GEORGE ROUTLEDGE AND SONS
BROADWAY, LUDGATE HILL
GLASGOW, MANCHESTER, AND NEW YORK
BY THE SAME AUTHOR.
HELEN MORDAUNT
OR
THE STANDARD OF LIFE.
WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY JOHN ABSOLON.
PREFACE
TO
THE SEVENTEENTH EDITION.
If when this book was first written the Author could say that the "signs of the times pointed strongly towards the Holy Land and the once glorious city of Jerusalem, and that the eyes of many—both Jews and Gentiles—were turned thither in anxious expectation," how much more emphatically may the same assertion now be made!
The interest felt for God's ancient people, the Jews, has been gradually increasing; and their condition, as a people, has been greatly improved. Many decrees have been passed in their favour in various lands; and in few civilized countries are they now subjected to either persecution or contumely. Moreover, the hearts of multitudes of Christians are awakened to feelings of love and sympathy towards their elder brethren of the Jewish Church: the servants of Christ "think upon the stones of Jerusalem, and it pitieth them to see her in the dust."
All this, combined with many other circumstances to which the attention of the world has been called of late years, leads us to hope that as the threatened judgments of the Lord have been awfully accomplished in the dispersion of his chosen people, his promises for their restoration may ere long be found equally sure. We know that there is a "tribulation—the great one"—yet to be brought on the land of Israel, and on her gathered population; but that will usher in their final glory and redemption. Then the same Almighty power which has turned the fruitful field into a "desolate wilderness," will cause that "wilderness" to "blossom as the rose;" and the same hand that once scattered the Jews over the face of the world, and made them a proverb and a by-word to the Gentile nations, will "bring them again to their own land," and make them the "joy of the whole earth."
While we contemplate the present fallen condition of the children of Israel, and the desolate state in which their "good land"—once "flowing with milk and honey"—is still lying, our minds naturally revert to their former glory, and the unexampled prosperity with which they were blessed: and we ask wherefore they have thus been degraded from their high position? God's word gives the answer—"Because they rebelled against the Lord, and lightly regarded the judgments of the Most High:" and, believing that such considerations may be both interesting and profitable to young readers, the Author ventured—with a full sense of her own incompetence to do justice to the subject—to attempt a narrative, the scene of which is chiefly laid in Jerusalem; and the period it embraces is one of the most eventful and calamitous that has ever been detailed in history. It may be thought that the circumstances of horror and bloodshed have been dwelt on with too much minuteness; but let it be remembered that all the events here related, and many others far more appalling, did actually take place when God avenged himself on his rebellious people: and let it further be remembered, that these things were intended not only for the chastisement of the Jews, but also for the warning of the Gentiles.
We know, from the declaration of Christ himself, that a greater tribulation is yet to come on the earth. God grant that we may be warned in time, and prepared to meet it! May we be among those blessed servants of the Lord for whom a surer refuge—a more glorious Pella—will be provided in that day, that so we may "escape those things that are coming on the earth, and stand before the Son of Man!"
The Author cannot forbear here expressing her sense of the favour and indulgence with which her attempt to portray "the last days of Jerusalem" has been hitherto received; and her earnest hope that it may have led some of her readers to feel a greater interest in the Jews, and to "pray for the peace of Jerusalem." Let us pray also for their conversion, and their preparation to meet their expected Messiah: for thus shall we be exercising the highest duties of Christian charity, and repaying in the best manner our obligations to those unto whom the promises of God were first made, and "from whom, as concerning the flesh, Christ came."
ILLUSTRATIONS BY BARTLETT.
[Jerusalem from the Mount of Olives]
[NAOMI, AND MARY THE SISTER OF LAZARUS]
[Exterior of the Holy Sepulchre]
[Sculpture on the Arch of Titus]
[SALOME INTERCEDING FOR NAOMI]
[MARY OF BETHANY INTERRUPTED BY JAVAN]
NAOMI
CHAPTER I.
The sun was slowly sinking behind the lofty buildings which crowned the hill of Zion, and its departing beams were glowing on the marble walls and golden pinnacles of the Temple, when young Naomi and her friend Claudia came forth from the dwelling of Zadok the priest, and wandered down the lovely little stream of Siloë. They passed through the Water Gate, and entered a garden of luxuriant fruit-trees, which extended to the margin of the brook Kedron on the east, while its southern boundary was watered by Siloë's rippling waves, which flowed into the Kedron at that spot. Here the two maidens seated themselves, to enjoy the balmy freshness of an evening in an eastern clime, and to gaze upon the glorious city which lay before them, now hushed in silence as the day declined, and the clear blue vault of heaven that stretched without a cloud above their heads.
"Naomi," said Claudia, "how sweetly the peaceful silence of this quiet spot comes over my soul, after the noise and tumult of the day! When my father sent me from the Roman camp, to take refuge with you in your Holy City, I hoped to have found safety and tranquillity, but instead of the calm cheerfulness which reigned within these walls in former years, when I spent so much of my happy childhood with you, I now find nothing but discord and rebellion; and instead of the sweet sounds of the timbrel and pipe, I hear the din of war, the clashing of arms, and the trampling march of soldiers in their military exercises. My spirit sinks when I look forward to the scenes we may yet witness. Our legions will surely turn their march towards Jerusalem, when the conquest of the cities of Galilee is completed; and what can your troops, though brave, hope to do, when opposed to the soldiers of Vespasian? or how will your gates and boasted walls be able to stand against the powerful engines of the Romans?"
"We fear them not, Claudia," replied the high-spirited young Jewess, and her bright black eyes flashed as she spoke; "we fear them not: Never shall our holy and beautiful city be given into the hands of those fierce and cruel idolaters. Forgive me, dear Claudia, but though they are your countrymen, and you have been brought up in their impious religion, I cannot forbear expressing my firm conviction that the God of our fathers will yet preserve us from these Gentiles, nor suffer the house where He has placed his name to be again trampled on and defiled by those who know him not."
"I forgive you, Naomi; indeed, I love to see you when these proud thoughts fill your breast. You look like our majestic goddess Minerva, and only want a panoply of mail to personate her well. My heart is of a different mould to yours; and I admire your spirit, though I cannot emulate it. You should have been born a Roman, and you would have rivalled any of our heroines of old."
"Better far to be a daughter of Israel," replied Naomi. "Better far to be one of God's own people, though now for our sins we are degraded and in sorrow, than to belong to that nation who are employed in the hand of Jehovah to chastise his chosen race! Soon will He, for whom we wait in eager expectation, appear in the clouds in glory, and rescue his children from all those that oppress them. Then shall the people who worship stocks and stones be driven away before the brightness of his coming, and his own adopted children be exalted for ever!"
The colour mounted into the usually pale cheeks of Naomi, as she thus expressed her own enthusiastic feelings, while her eyes were fixed on the darkening sky above her, and her hands upraised, as if even then she awaited the sound of the trumpet, and the vision of the Messiah coming in the air. The expectation of his immediate appearance was, at that period, very widely diffused and strongly felt by the Jews; and it is supposed that this vain hope had greatly encouraged them in their revolt, and obstinate resistance against the power of the Romans. They entertained a firm conviction that their great Deliverer would shortly be manifested to his people, and that although for a time their oppressors had been permitted to triumph over them, yet their destruction as a people would never take place; and that in their hour of greatest extremity their King and Saviour would appear, to re-establish the throne of his father David, and to raise their nation to a glory and prosperity surpassing that of Solomon.
Claudia was impressed by the vehemence of her friend's manner; but she regarded all her hopes as vain delusions, and, after a pause, she replied:
"Naomi, your wild religion blinds and deceives you, and in these visionary expectations you forget the danger of the present time. Instead of indulging in such idle dreams, your wisest course would be, to use all your influence in persuading your father to abandon this city while yet there is time, and throw himself on the clemency of Vespasian. Zadok's character stands high, both among the Romans and his own people, for wisdom, integrity, and courage; and if he were to take so prudent a step, and recommend it to his countrymen, his example would probably be followed by many, if not all; and oh! Naomi, what bloodshed and misery would be averted! Your nation would be restored to peace and security, and plenty would again be seen in those districts which our legions have already reduced to desolation. Had you witnessed all the horrors of war and massacre that I have done, I think even your courage would shrink from drawing such fearful calamities upon your beloved city. My blood curdles when I remember the miseries of which I was an unwilling spectator, while I accompanied my father in Vespasian's camp. Truly I believe the sight of sufferings which she could not relieve, added to the fatigue and constant excitement of our military life, hastened the death of my dear mother. Would that the gods had permitted her and me to remain in Jerusalem when my father was called to join the army! Then I should not thus early have had to weep over her grave: but it was her fate, and I must submit."
The tears rolled down the fair countenance of Claudia as she spoke of her beloved mother, and ineffectually sought consolation for her death in the cold maxims of philosophy, which were all that the heathen system of religion could afford her. Naomi endeavoured, as she had often done before, to awaken in her dark mind the belief in one Almighty God, by whose superintending Providence all events are governed; but her friend was too firmly convinced of the truth of her own religion to be thus easily shaken, or induced to listen to the despised doctrines of a Jew; she therefore hastily resumed the subject of the war, and, in spite of Naomi's indignant replies, continued to urge upon her the necessity of submission to the overwhelming and resistless power of Rome.
"Claudia," said Naomi at length, rising from her mossy seat, and extending her hand towards the lofty walls and towers of the city, now dark in the shades of evening; "Claudia, I would rather, oh! ten thousand times rather perish beneath those sacred walls, if it be the will of Jehovah that the spoiler should again possess them, than live to see my people once more subject to the Roman power. We have nobly shaken it off, and never till we are exterminated will we cease to resist their oppressions, and assert our freedom. You wonder at my enthusiasm, as you call it; but be assured the same spirit animates every son and every daughter of Israel: and when your proud legions advance beneath these impenetrable walls, they will be received with such a welcome as shall prove that in Jerusalem at least the soul of our fathers still survives."
"May the gods preserve us from beholding the conflict!" answered Claudia, with a shudder, as she rose to accompany her friend towards their home: "I should regret then that I had persuaded my father to send me here, after my poor mother's death, instead of to Cæsarea, as he proposed; but my heart was with you, Naomi, and I felt that in your company, and that of your gentle mother, I should find comfort in my sorrow. My father's strong regard and high esteem for Zadok induced him to consent to my returning to your house, as your mother's letter so kindly proposed; and at that time he had no idea that the war would continue so long, or spread from Galilee into Judea. Should Vespasian bring his army against Jerusalem—as my father's last letter seemed to announce—he will of course send for me, and place me at Cæsarea, with his friends who dwell there, and from thence I could easily embark for Rome, and join my brother Marcellus. He has been residing in the capital with our uncle Sulpitius ever since we left Jerusalem two years ago; and he writes me glowing descriptions of the splendour and magnificence of the imperial city. You know we were both so young when we came from our native land to Judea, that we had forgotten all her glory and beauty. Marcellus tells me that he is very soon to be enrolled among the emperor's troops, and then he will probably be sent into this country, if the war is not concluded. Now I shall rejoice to see my dear, kind brother again; and you too, Naomi, will not you welcome him? You were always the greatest friends; and every letter he writes is full of inquiries and kind messages to you. But, alas! I forget myself. If Marcellus comes to Judea, it will probably be as the enemy of your land and people; and this cruel war will separate those who have been brought up together, and loved each other as brother and sister from childhood."
Naomi was saved the embarrassment of a reply by their reaching her father's house; and she was glad of the circumstance, for the theme interested her feelings more than she wished Claudia to discover. Rufus the centurion had resided for many years at Jerusalem, holding a command in the imperial army, and his band composing part of the guards stationed in the city. Mutual obligations, and a respect for each other's character, had created a sincere friendship between him and Naomi's father Zadok, who, though he was a priest, and devotedly attached to the Jewish faith, was not blind to the generous and excellent qualities which distinguished the Roman soldier. Their families had constant intercourse, and their children grew up together in habits of familiar friendship. Naomi and Claudia regarded each other as sisters; nor did the difference of their religion or the contrast in their dispositions ever cause a disagreement between them. Marcellus was their constant companion, and their protector in their rambles among the verdant hills, and luxurious meadows and gardens which surrounded the city; and the mutual attachment which grew up between him and Naomi was remarked and smiled at by their parents while they were yet children. But as they advanced in years, it caused some uneasiness to Zadok and his amiable wife Salome, who could not allow themselves to contemplate the possibility of a union between their beloved daughter and an idolater. Nor was such an intention ever entertained by Naomi her soul was peculiarly susceptible to feelings of piety, and she worshipped the God of her fathers with a sincerity and fervency of devotion which was not common in the days of degeneracy and hypocrisy in which she lived. Idolatry she regarded with unfeigned abhorrence; and while she loved her Roman friends with all the natural warmth of an affectionate heart, she grieved for their profane and impious creed, and many were the attempts she made to convince them of its folly. Hitherto her efforts had been entirely unavailing, and she could gain no further concession from her young companions than an acknowledgment that Jehovah, the God of Israel, might certainly be a Deity; but they looked upon him merely as one of that host of deities in whom their religion taught them to believe, and by no means superior to their own false gods. This being the case, Naomi would have preferred death to a connexion with a Gentile idolater; and she persuaded herself that her attachment to Marcellus was nothing more than friendship.
When, however, Rufus and his family were called away from Jerusalem, and his son was sent to Rome to perfect his military education, she felt a void in her heart which convinced her that she had allowed too much of her happiness to depend on Marcellus, and she resolutely determined to check every thought and extinguish every hope that was connected with him. At the time of which we are now speaking he had been absent for two years; and her praiseworthy efforts had been so far successful that she had recovered her spirits, and entered into all her duties and occupations with interest and animation. She was gifted with a strong mind, and a proud, independent spirit, which enabled her to command her feelings to a great degree; and even her mother, who was usually her confident in all her joys and sorrows, believed that she had entirely forgotten the brave and amiable young Roman.
The return of her friend Claudia, to seek protection in Zadok's house, when the death of her own mother rendered it impossible for her to remain with Rufus in the camp, a source of great delight to Naomi; but it revived many recollections which she had long been endeavouring to banish from her mind, and she found herself listening with pleasure to Claudia's often-repeated praises of her brother, and the kind messages which his letters contained to herself; but she never spoke of him except as the friend of her childhood, whom, in all probability, she should never see again.
Perhaps the contrast between Marcellus and her own brother Javan had exalted the good qualities of the former in her eyes. Javan, even as a child, had manifested a cruel and unhumbled disposition; and his domineering spirit had been the frequent cause of disputes between him and Marcellus, who invariably took the part of the oppressed, and defended those whom Javan would have annoyed or injured. The affection which Naomi entertained for Marcellus excited his jealousy and indignation; and he often upbraided her with her friendship for idolaters, and used very opprobrious language to the young Roman himself, which, but for the interposition of their sisters, would have ended perhaps in fierce and fatal contests.
As Javan arrived at years of manhood, this unamiable temper rather increased than lessened; and it was greatly aggravated by the spirit of fanaticism which took possession of his soul, and rendered his religion a motive to fierce and arrogant conduct, instead of having the effect of softening his heart, and leading him to such holy and gentle and charitable dispositions as are most acceptable to the God of love and mercy. His father Zadok was of the sect of the Pharisees, and was therefore a strict and rigid observer of the ceremonial law,—not only of every point which was enjoined by the lawgiver Moses, but also of all those customs which were derived from the traditions of the Elders. He did not, however, fall into the grievous error which was so severely rebuked by our blessed Saviour; he did not, like so many of his self-righteous brethren, "wash merely the outside of the cup and platter, while inwardly their hearts were full of extortion and violence;" neither did he "make broad his phylacteries, and enlarge the borders of his garments," merely "to be seen of men." It is true that such erroneous motives did to a certain degree influence his conduct, but he was nevertheless a man of sincere piety and devotion; and his prayers in secret were not less frequent and regular than the public acts of worship which, according to the custom of the priests and Pharisees, be performed in the streets and marketplaces.
Javan emulated, and even surpassed his excellent father in a scrupulous adherence to the minutest points of ceremony. He performed the many ablutions prescribed by law and tradition: and even paid tithe of the mint and cummin, and other herbs, which grew almost spontaneously in his father's fertile garden: but unhappily he had none of the real piety which distinguished Zadok; and the violence of his temper and haughtiness of his disposition were a source of constant sorrow to his gentle mother.
Salome was of a spirit far different to that of any of the other members of her family: mild, timid, and dependent, she was guided in everything by her husband; and as his office in the priesthood necessarily kept him much from home, she found herself unequal to controlling the spirits of either Javan or Naomi; and her mistaken indulgence was the cause of much that was to be regretted in the character of each of her children. The affectionate disposition of Naomi, and the natural candour and rectitude of her mind, preserved her from being as much injured as her wayward brother was, by the undue liberty which they enjoyed during their childhood and early youth. She was devotedly attached to her mother; and from her she derived those lessons of piety and fervent charity, which were remarkable in her character, though the energy of her soul carried her far beyond Salome in enthusiastic feeling and active performance of duty. She was the pride and delight of both her parents; and probably the preference which they felt and could hardly conceal for her, produced an evil tendency in the heart of Javan; who, feeling that he was less beloved than his sister, instead of endeavouring to imitate her dutiful and affectionate behaviour, became sullen and morose, and shunned the society of his family. Naomi made every effort to recover his affection, though with little success. She wove for him the broadest and most beautiful fringes, to adorn the borders of his festal garment according to the commandment of the Lord to Moses, and fixed upon the fringe a ribbon of the brightest blue.[[1]] And she employed the skill she had acquired from her father (and which she possessed in a far higher degree than the generality of Jewish females), in writing upon slips of white parchment choice sentences from the law, to compose the phylacteries that he wore on his forehead and on his wrist—a custom which the Jews derived from the direction to make the commandments of God "a sign upon their hand, and a memorial between their eyes."[[2]] Unhappily it had become perverted from its original meaning, and had sunk into a mere superstitious form; and many, especially of the Pharisees, were contented to carry the law of the Lord upon their persons and their garments, while it entered not into their hearts. When Javan came home in a sullen mood, Naomi would take her harp, and sing to him one of the songs of the royal Psalmist; and her sweet voice had frequently the same effect on her brother that the young shepherd's had on Saul—the evil spirit would depart from him. But it was not the psalm of penitence or praise that he loved best to hear; it was the tone of exultation and triumph, or the prophecy of vengeance, that breathes forth in some of the inspired songs of David, which met with corresponding emotions in the breast of the fiery young Jew, and recalled his spirit from its own passions and resentments, to a contemplation of the promised restoration and glory of his nation, and the signal punishment of all their foes.
[[1]] Numbers xv. 38.
[[2]] Exodus xiii. 9.
It was a frequent practice of Zadok, and several other of the most learned of his fraternity, to meet together for the express purpose of studying those parts of the Scriptures which so clearly set forth the future prosperity of the Jews and the reign of the Messiah: and endeavouring to calculate from the various dates which refer to that blessed period, whether the appearance of their King and Saviour might be speedily looked for, according to the popular expectation. At these meetings Javan always attended; and his ardent and enthusiastic notions and wild conjectures called forth the smiles, and sometimes the reproofs, of the graver and more cool-headed rabbin, though they highly commended his zeal, and the industry with which he pursued the study of the Holy Scriptures. He was already a wonderful proficient in the sacred writings which compose the Old Testament, and had transcribed a large portion of them on the rolls of parchment employed at that time as a substitute for books. Zadok was possessed also of several rare and precious manuscripts, which contained the traditions of the Elders, and were regarded by the scribes and Pharisees as of equal, or even superior authority to the inspired Scriptures, and in any disputed case were appealed to in preference to the word of God himself. These were also carefully studied and highly reverenced by his bigoted son, who aspired one day to become an authorised and distinguished expounder of the oral or traditionary law, and to attain the highly-desired title of Rabbi or teacher.
Into this family, the character of whose members we have attempted to describe, Claudia, the heathen maiden, was removed from the camp of the Roman army, and domesticated as a daughter. It may perhaps excite surprise that her father, being himself an idolater, should permit her thus to associate with Jews; but the fact was that Rufus was an idolater because he had been brought up as such, and not because he believed the worship of Jupiter or Mars to be more rational than that of Jehovah. His active military life had diverted his attention from such subjects; and provided he acted uprightly in all the relations of life, according to the dictates of his own conscience and the laws of the empire, he did not hold it to be a matter of much importance to what divinity he paid the greatest adoration. He did not wish his daughter to become a Jew; nor did he think it probable that she would be inclined to embrace a religion which appeared to him so burdensome and ridiculous; and therefore he did not oppose her urgent request to return to Jerusalem, on the death of her mother, and seek protection in a family whom he so highly respected and valued.
Jerusalem from the Mount of Olives
CHAPTER II.
The day following that on which the conversation we have related took place, was one of great rejoicing in Jerusalem. The noise of military preparation ceased, and the tumults and conflicts which at that period so Constantly disturbed the peace of the Holy City were for a short time suspended. It was the Feast of Pentecost, the day on which the first-fruits were presented as a burnt-offering to the Lord, and when the children of Israel celebrated the completion of their plentiful harvest, and "rejoiced before the Lord their God, with their sons and their daughters and their servants, and the Levites and the strangers that were within their gates." This was one of the three great national festivals which were observed every year by the Jews, according to the commandment of God, when all the men were enjoined to assemble from the towns and villages of Judea, and to appear before the Lord in his temple. The disturbed state of the country, and the necessary absence of many of the Jews who had joined the rebel forces of Galilee, or were engaged in preparing for the expected attack of their own cities, rendered the assemblage less numerous than in the time of peace and security; and yet the streets were thronged. The sound of musical instruments was heard in every quarter, and many were the troops of young men and maidens who were seen going up to the temple in the measured and graceful steps of their solemn dances, while they chanted hymns with their melodious voices, and accompanied their songs with the harp and the psaltery.
Danger and dissension, and the discord of contending factions appeared to be forgotten, and to the eye of a stranger all was peace and joy. The heart of Naomi exulted while she joined in the dance with her young companions, and among all the youthful throng her step was the lightest and her voice the sweetest; at least they appeared so, in the partial judgment of her mother and her friend, who followed in the concourse that moved towards the glorious and magnificent temple. Claudia took no part in the ceremony; but she could not look unmoved on that countless multitude of worshippers, assembled as with one heart to celebrate the praises of their Deity, and to offer on his altar the first-fruits of the bounteous harvest which had just been gathered in. The exquisite beauty and richness of the building, which was conspicuous from every part of the city and the surrounding country, have been frequently described, and must be familiar to every reader. It rose high above the whole city, and united the strength of a citadel with the splendour of a sacred edifice.
We are told that the plain on which it was erected, and which occupied the whole summit of the hill, had been greatly enlarged since the time of Solomon, and now consisted of a square of a furlong on each side. The steep sides of the rock were faced with stones of an enormous size, some of them being seventy feet long; and we may suppose that it was to these huge blocks so wonderfully placed, and so accurately fitted together, that the disciples called the attention of their Master, when, as they stood over against the temple, they exclaimed in pride and admiration, "Behold what manner of stones and what buildings are here!" The awful denunciation which he then uttered—"There shall not be left here one stone upon another that shall not be thrown down"—was now rapidly approaching to its fulfilment, and the hard-hearted and deluded inhabitants of that devoted city knew it not, nor sought to avert the impending judgment by humiliation and prayer. Doubtless had they even then returned, and sought the Lord, and humbled themselves, like Nineveh in her day of threatened destruction, they might, like Nineveh, have been heard and pardoned, and saved. But the pride and impenitence of the Jews were unexampled, and awful was to be their punishment. They would not be gathered under the wings of their merciful and forgiving Saviour, and lo! their "city was left unto them desolate." The "eagles" were even now "gathering together" to devour them, and they were feasting and rejoicing, and insulting their Maker and Governor, by offering to Him sacrifices while their hands were stained with blood, and uttering praises to His name while their hearts were full of cursing, and deceit, and lies. Amidst the general corruption, there were yet, however, a few faithful sons of Abraham remaining, though not enough to save the city; and Zadok was of this number. He stood by the altar, to receive from the hands of the people the baskets which contained their offerings, and to hear the declaration and confession which were appointed to be uttered on this occasion;[[1]] and no covetous or unholy thoughts crossed his breast. He was absorbed in the feelings of gratitude, and hope, and adoration which the ceremony was so well calculated to excite; and his dignified form and noble countenance well became the splendid robes in which as an officiating priest he was attired. Salome looked upon him with love and veneration; and the proud heart of his daughter swelled with a pardonable emotion, as with her young companions she passed before him, and met the affectionate eye of her father. Naomi loved both her parents most ardently; but she looked up to Zadok as to a being of superior nature, whose will to her was law, and whose slightest word could control all her wild thoughts and wayward fancies. "Ah," said she to her mother as she returned to her side beneath the pillared cloisters, when she had completed the circuit of the court in the solemn procession, "if my father were but High Priest, or a chief of one of the parties in Jerusalem, all would yet be well. His wisdom, and courage, and virtue would surely reconcile all the disputes which now cause such tumult, and threaten such danger to our beloved city; and should the Romans dare to bring their legions against our walls, with Zadok for our defender and the leader of our troops, how soon would they be discomfited and driven away! I almost wish to see their boasted armies approach, for then would all the rival factions unite to oppose them, and we should see my father go forth in the power and protection of the Lord, with the holy band of priests, to encounter the foe. And then, O my mother! we should behold Messiah coming in the glory of Heaven to finish the conflict, and to restore to our city and beautiful temple the majesty and power which once dwelt here. I look round this gorgeous building, and I see marble pillars and pinnacles of gold, and carved roofs, and crowded ornaments of precious materials. But where is the presence of God, which once abode visibly among his people, to sanctify them, and to separate them from all others? It has departed from us, and therefore, 'do the heathen so furiously rage together' against us. But it will return—surely His presence will speedily return to us, in the person of the Messiah, and we shall yet see Jerusalem exalted, to be the glory of the whole earth!"
[[1]] Deut. xxvi. 5.
"God grant it, Naomi," replied her less sanguine mother; "but I confess I cannot utter my prayers in this temple, without some awful forebodings that ere long the worship may be interrupted, and even that fire and sword may lay waste our beautiful, our rich, our joyous city. I fear that we may yet have to sink far lower than we are now fallen, and endure to drink far deeper of the cup of the Lord's vengeance before the sin of our race shall be purged away, and the 'Desire of all nations shall appear to re-establish the kingdom of his father David.'"
"O mother, why are you so fearful, and why do you suffer such thoughts to fill your mind? Can it ever be that Jehovah will allow the Gentiles to triumph over his chosen race, and trample on His courts and altars?"
"We know, Naomi, that the heathen nations of old were permitted to conquer and desolate our city and our temple; and now, when I see the state of impiety and rebellion against the Lord into which my countrymen are fallen, I cannot but look for a repetition of the same awful judgments which have already been poured upon this once favoured land. Have you forgotten the terrible sights and sounds that, two years ago, at the breaking out of this fatal war occasioned so much consternation and fear? That dreadful sword of flame which hung, for twelve long months, over the city; that fierce and sudden light which, at the feast of unleavened bread, broke forth about the altar and temple; and how the brazen gate on the eastern side of this sacred building flew open of its own accord, and was closed with so much difficulty by the united force of the guard? Many of our friends looked on this as a token that God would open to us the gate of blessing; but Zadok said not so. He was present at the fearful event, and he came home sad, and with his countenance fallen; for he dreaded that it might be a sign that the temple was no longer secure, and that ere long the gate of the holy place might be thrown open to the enemy."
"But," interrupted Naomi, "my father surely has no such apprehensions now! I hear him speaking encouragement to all around him, and his spirit inspires every one who hears him with hope and confidence."
"Yes, my love, your father is animated by his own courage and his trust in God. The impression which was made upon his mind by the events of which I am speaking has subsided. No calamities immediately succeeded these warnings, and, like most of his brethren, he now considers that the danger has passed away. But I have not the same conviction; I never can forget those signs from heaven, or believe that they did not forebode evils yet to come. You stood with me upon our house-top when, before sunset, that awful vision of chariots and horsemen appeared in the heavens, and encompassed the city in their wild and rapid course; and you heard your father tell how at Pentecost, when he, with the other priests then on duty, were entering the temple by night, they heard strange rushing sounds, and a movement within, and then a mighty voice, as of a multitude, crying, 'Let us depart hence!' O my child, from that hour I have felt that the Lord has deserted us, and his holy angels no longer keep watch over this sacred building, to guard it from every foe. And look! Naomi, yonder, through the crowd, is passing that terrible and mysterious man who has haunted our city, like an evil spirit, ever since the war began, and indeed while we were yet in peace and prosperity. No threats, no punishments have been able to silence him; and now, when we are met together to hold a feast to the Lord, and celebrate his goodness, the son, of Ananus comes to blight our joy, and shed a gloom over every countenance."
As she spoke, this strange and terrific being passed through the midst of the assembled throng, who shrunk from him as from one whose presence brought a curse. He entered the vacant space which surrounded the spot where the priests were officiating, and raising his bare and haggard arms on high, he exclaimed in a voice so loud and piercing as to be heard by all who filled those spacious courts, "A voice from the east!—a voice from the west!—a voice from the four winds!—a voice against Jerusalem, and against the temple!—a voice against the bridegrooms and the brides!—a voice against the whole people!"—and then he moved across the court, and disappeared among the crowd on the opposite side. A shudder ran through the whole assembly; every voice was hushed, and every eye was turned to follow this prophet of evil. None raise a hand to arrest his course, for all now feared him, and knew that, though when he first appeared in Jerusalem, and uttered his warning cry, he had been scourged until the bones were seen through the flesh, yet that he had never either shrieked or groaned for pain, but still had raised his sad and faltering voice, and cried at every blow, "Woe, woe to Jerusalem!" He was looked upon as a maniac, and now wandered undisturbed through the city, night and day as he traversed the narrow streets still crying, "Woe to Jerusalem!" And at the return of every festival, when crowds were gathered together, and mirth and joy were abroad, his gaunt and melancholy form was sure to be seen gliding slowly through the multitude, and his ominous voice was heard still uttering no other words.
Before the dense crowd which now filled the temple had recovered from the effect which his appearance never failed to excite, he had descended the hill, and was traversing the almost deserted streets; and in the silence which succeeded his departure, his voice could still be heard dying away in the distance in the same melancholy tone. The multitude shortly afterwards dispersed, and the gaiety of the city ceased; for ere the services of the temple were concluded, the chief priests and leaders of the people were hastily summoned to meet in council, and consider a despatch which had just arrived from the commander of the Jewish forces in Galilee. But in order more fully to understand the importance of this despatch, it will be necessary to give a brief sketch of the state of affairs at this time in Judea, and of the events that had occurred since the breaking out of the rebellion, which ended in the total desolation of this unhappy country.
The spirit of insurrection had been abroad for several years, and many attempts had been made to throw off the yoke of the Roman power. The success, however, had been very partial, and could ill repay the expenditure of blood and life which had been incurred in the misguided efforts of the Jews to regain their liberty and independence. They had no foreign allies to assist and strengthen them, for all the other Roman dominions were in peace; and even their own countrymen who were settled in distant provinces took but little interest in the struggles of their native land, or were too much occupied in endeavouring to secure their own safety, to have either leisure or power to aid in the revolt of Judea. Even their nominal king Agrippa, had openly declared for the Roman power; and the Jews had no acknowledged or distinguished leader to guide them, and direct their fierce and obstinate, but undisciplined troops. The attempt was therefore wild, and all but hopeless; and yet we cannot read the account of the cruelties and oppressions which were heaped upon this once blessed race by many of the Roman governors, and wonder that they should spend their life-blood in the effort to shake off the galling and ignominious yoke. The tyranny which was practised upon them by Cuspius Fadus, by Felix, by Festus, and more especially by Florus, had galled their proud spirit beyond endurance; and in the year of our Lord 66, they were in open rebellion against their conquerors.
The bold defiance of this comparatively weak and insignificant province excited the astonishment and even the alarm of the Emperor Nero, and he immediately dispatched Vespasian, one of his greatest generals, to take the command of Syria, and to use the promptest measures for quelling the revolt, before the example of these daring men should be followed by the surrounding provinces. Vespasian sent his son Titus to Alexandria, to bring from thence the fifth and tenth legions; and set out himself without delay for Syria, collecting by the way all the Roman troops, and the tributary forces from the neighbouring kingdoms.
These active measures on the part of the Roman emperor struck terror into many of the rebels, who hastened to offer their submission; but the greater part were determined to resist to the uttermost. A general meeting of the chief men in Jerusalem was summoned in the temple, for the purpose of choosing governors and commanders; and Joseph the son of Gorion, and Ananus the high-priest, were elected as governors in the city; while Joseph the son of Mathias (more commonly known as Josephus the historian) was appointed to the command of Galilee; and other chiefs were entrusted with the defence of the remaining districts and cities. Eleazar, the son of Simon, who had been active in the first movements of the insurrection, had no authority committed to him; but being the commander of the temple guard, he contrived to gain possession of a large portion of the public treasures, and the spoils which had been taken from the Romans at the breaking out of the war. He therefore, by means of this wealth, obtained great power and influence over the people; which, as we shall hereafter perceive, he exerted to no good purpose.
Josephus immediately hastened to his government in Galilee, where it was expected that the struggle would first take place. This country was rich and fertile, and inhabited by a numerous and hardy population of Jews and Syrians intermixed. It was divided into two districts, Upper and Lower Galilee, and Sepphoris was the capital city. The fortification of this important place Josephus entrusted to the celebrated John of Gischala, a crafty and deceitful man, but bold, enterprising, and active; and who afterwards opposed all the measures of the governor, and promoted the spirit of discord which already divided the province, and thus proved an obstacle to the effectual resistance of the common foe. Jotapata, Tiberias, and some deep caves near the lake of Gennesareth were also strongly fortified, besides many other towns and fortresses; and an army of 60,000 foot soldiers was established, besides a considerable body of cavalry. But all the wise and prudent schemes of Josephus were constantly rendered ineffectual by the plots and opposition of John of Gischala, whom he himself had raised to power. He had formerly been a poor and desperate adventurer, and lived by robbery and violence: he by degrees induced others as unprincipled as himself to join him, and formed a numerous banditti, who ravaged the country, committing every kind of outrage; and to this dangerous man was entrusted, in the present emergency, the command of the Galilean capital.
For many months the contest and rivalry between John and Josephus continued, and greatly interrupted the defence of the country; and time and money were wasted in mutual endeavours to gain over the chiefs of Jerusalem to espouse the cause of each party. In the metropolis, the preparations for war and defence were carried on with zeal and energy, and the streets and public places echoed with the clash of arms and the tramp of the soldiers marching to exercise. The prudent and the timid trembled at the prospect of the miseries and desolation to which they foresaw their glorious city and luxuriant fields might be ere long devoted; but the fear in which the peaceable inhabitants were held by the zealots the fanatics, and the assassins, who ruled in the city, silenced every murmur, and checked every sigh for the re-establishment of the dominion of the Romans.
By the command of Ananus, the high-priest, the walls were repaired and strengthened, arms and military engines were manufactured, and provisions and other necessary articles were collected, and stored up in abundance, to be ready in case of a siege. It was not only from the timid and disaffected in the city that Ananus experienced coldness, and had to contend; his power was opposed without the walls by Simon, the son of Gioras, who, at the head of a lawless band of ruffians, overran and pillaged the toparchy of Acrabatene, breaking open the dwellings of the rich, and ill-treating all who endeavoured to put a stop to his deeds of violence and cruelty. The high-priest sent forth a body of troops against him; but the fierce Simon escaped their vengeance, and found safety in the town of Masada, from whence he made incursions into Idumæa.
Thus were the affairs of Judea and Galilee situated when the spring of the year 67 commenced; and Vespasian with his mighty forces appeared at Antioch, and was joined by King Agrippa and his army. On his march toward Ptolemais he was met by an embassy from Sepphoris, with overtures of submission, which, in spite of the opposition of the governor of Galilee, the inhabitants of the capital persisted in making to the invaders; and Vespasian sent them back with a strong reinforcement of troops, under the command of Placidus, to protect the town from the vengeance of the rebel Jews. Josephus made an ineffectual effort to regain possession of the capital; but the attempt only provoked the Romans to greater cruelty, and thousands of the inhabitants of the adjacent country were destroyed by fire and sword, or carried away as captives. At Ptolemais, Titus joined his father with the troops from Alexandria, and the whole army of Vespasian now amounted to 60,000, including cavalry, besides the mixed multitude that followed the camp, many of whom were employed when occasion required.
Josephus saw that it was vain to oppose so formidable an army in the open field, and he sent forth orders for all the inhabitants of the villages to take refuge in the fortified cities. Many were cut off, and slaughtered in the flight; but the greatest part of the population were able to secure their retreat, and found present safety within the walls and bulwarks. The Jewish commander took up his own station at Jotapata, the strongest and most important of all the cities of Galilee; and thither the troops under Placidus were led, in the hope that by a sudden attack the place might be captured, and the governor himself taken prisoner. But Josephus was aware of this intention, and sallied forth to meet the Romans with such impetuosity that they were repulsed, and forced to retreat; and this success inspired the Jews with fresh courage and determination.
Hitherto the main body of the vast army of Vespasian had been inactive; but he was now resolved to lead them forth himself, and crush the rebellious Jews with his resistless force. The foremost troops consisted of the archers and the light-armed allies, who preceded the cavalry and heavy-armed infantry, examining every thicket and wood, to discover whether the enemy were lurking in ambush. After the cavalry came the pioneers, with their spades and pickaxes, to clear away all obstacles which might interrupt the march of the phalanx; the camp-furniture followed, under a strong guard; then the general and his troop of horse, succeeded by the military engines and their attendant engineers. The lieutenant-generals and their inferior officers came next in order and after them the standards, the glittering eagles, which were looked upon as sacred. To every legion one of these was appropriated, and the attachment of the Roman soldiers to these emblems of their national power was almost invincible. It was inspired both by their religion, feelings and their sentiments of honour; and it was looked upon as no less impious than it was disgraceful to forsake the standard in the hour of danger. Next advanced the formidable phalanx, followed by the servants with the private baggage and the mercenary troops; and the procession was closed by a strong guard of both horse and foot. The news of the movement of this host struck terror into the army of Josephus, which was encamped at Garis; and without waiting to encounter the dreaded foe, they dispersed, leaving their general almost in despair: and he was compelled to seek refuge, with the small remnant who adhered to him, in Tiberias.
Gadara was the first city which fell beneath the arms of Vespasian; and he made it a signal example of his vengeance, burning it down to the ground, and destroying all its inhabitants. Consternation was spread abroad, and the retreat of Josephus into Tiberias was looked upon as a proof that even he no longer entertained any hopes of success. But he resolved still to continue his resistance, and sent emissaries to Jerusalem with a strong representation of the necessity of their immediately dispatching a powerful army into Galilee, or of abandoning the cause at once, and submitting to the invaders. It was this important message which reached the metropolis during the celebration of the Feast of Pentecost, and occasioned the sudden dispersion of the assembly. The nature of the communication was speedily noised abroad, and filled the hearts of the timid and peaceable inhabitants with apprehension and anxiety; and even the bravest warriors were somewhat discouraged when they heard how closely Josephus was pressed, and the unfavourable aspect of the affairs in Galilee.
The chief priests and leading men of the city immediately assembled to consult on the best mode of affording assistance to their commander;[[2]] but the factions and dissensions of the different parties were already so violent, that, after a long and angry discussion, the council broke up without coming to any final determination; and it appeared to be tacitly agreed, that those who chose to volunteer on the service might go to the aid of their countrymen in Galilee; but no authorised leader was appointed to conduct them. The spirit of Javan was roused with indignation when he heard that no relief was to be sent to Josephus, and he eagerly declared his intention of setting out for the seat of the war. His example and his fiery exhortations induced many of his young companions to embrace the same resolution; and as soon as the necessary preparations could be made, they departed from the city, accompanied by the messengers who had brought the Jewish commander's despatches. They reached Tiberias in safety, and joined Josephus in time to accompany him to Jotapata, into which city he contrived, with much difficulty, to throw himself and his followers, when he found that the steps of Vespasian were directed towards that place. A deserter informed the Roman general of this event, which added to his eagerness for the capture of the town, as he hoped at the same time to gain possession of his most active enemy; and he instantly dispatched Æbutius and Placidus with a thousand horse, to surround the walls and prevent the possibility of his escape. The following day, being the 15th of May, A.D. 67, Vespasian advanced with his whole army; but the particulars of the long and interesting siege of this important post must be deferred for a time, while we return to Naomi and her friends in Jerusalem.
[[2]] History does not inform us that any strong reinforcement was sent into Galilee, or that any notice was taken of the letter of Josephus.
Tombs of the Kings
CHAPTER III.
The seditions within the city, and the threatened dangers without, had not yet interrupted the regular course of life of the inhabitants, who continued to cultivate their gardens and vineyards, though at times their hearts misgave them that they might not be permitted to gather in the fruits. The garden of Zadok, by the brook Kedron, was one of the most luxuriant in all that fertile vale; and the date and pomegranate-trees, the spreading fig-trees, and graceful vines, afforded a delightful shade from the beams of the summer sun, and provided the family of the priest with a plentiful supply of delicious fruits. This garden was the frequent and favourite retreat of Salome and her daughter, who, with Claudia and some of the female domestics, spent much of their time in training and cultivating the vines that clothed the walls, and securing the boughs that ran along the summit by stones tied to the ends, to prevent the weight of the heavy clusters from bringing them to the ground. The melons and cucumbers, which also grew in abundance on the margin of the stream, required much of their care and attention; and when these occupations were finished, they were accustomed to seat themselves in a shady spot, and pursue some of the domestic manufactures which were usually carried on in every Jewish family. In one corner of the extensive garden was placed the handmill, which was daily worked by the female servants to procure the necessary supply of flour for the consumption of the house; and though the work was very laborious and fatiguing, the voices of those engaged in it were always heard singing gaily and harmoniously, to lighten their toil. The cheerful sound was accompanied by the monotonous noise of the grindstone, so often alluded to in Scripture, and by the rippling of the water where the brooks of Siloam and Kedron united their streams. All in this favoured spot spoke of peace and happy security; and therefore Salome loved to leave the noisy and tumultuous city, and spend the hours when Zadok was engaged in his public duties in this calm retreat. Here, surrounded by her maidens, she and Naomi directed them in their occupations of spinning and weaving linen, which they sometimes manufactured of a beautiful fineness, notwithstanding the simple construction of their looms and other implements.
In all her domestic labours, Salome was greatly assisted by the faithful Deborah, who was the chief of the female domestics, and had lived all her life in the family of Zadok. She was now in the decline of life, but still active and cheerful, and entirely devoted to the interest of her master. She had nursed and brought up both Javan and Naomi, and loved them with the most intense affection. It must be owned that her indulgence had in no small degree tended to foster the pride and self-will that were so conspicuous in the character of Javan, and, in a less disagreeable form, in that of his sister also; but her intentions were always good, and she would willingly have laid down her own life at any time, if she could by the sacrifice promote the welfare of her beloved charges. They were both sincerely and gratefully attached to her; and Javan never appeared to so great advantage as when, after a temporary absence, he returned to his home, and bent to receive the embraces and blessings of his venerable nurse. But Naomi was her chief comfort and the delight of her life. Her beauty, her grace, her melodious voice, her amiable and animated disposition, and her zeal for the glory of God and the honour of her nation, were the constant theme of the good old woman's praises, which were frequently lavished, rather injudiciously, in the hearing of Naomi herself; till at length the high-spirited girl almost believed that she was of a superior nature to the rest of her companions, and formed to take the lead among her countrywomen. Salome saw and deplored this great fault in her character, and strove ineffectually to correct it. Her daughter was invariably respectful and affectionate to her and to her father, but the natural pride of her heart was unsubdued. It was to be humbled by means of which Salome never dreamed, and by a power far greater than her maternal exhortations and reproofs.
It chanced one day that Salome had occasion to send Deborah on an errand to the village of Bethany, about two miles distant from Jerusalem; and Claudia being otherwise occupied, Naomi alone accompanied her nurse on the expedition. They left the city by the water-gate, and having crossed the brook Kedron, and passed along the gardens and olive-yards that flourished along its banks, they began slowly to ascend the Mount of Olives. Part of the ascent was steep and fatiguing; and as Deborah leaned on the arm of her active young companion, she recalled to her remembrance the sad time when their pious and glorious King David had also crossed that brook, and mounted by that same ascent, with his head covered and his feet bare, and weeping as he went, a fugitive from his own city, and driven into the wilderness by the cruelty and ambition of his darling son. It must have been a moving sight to behold that once mighty king, now bending beneath the weight of years and bitter sorrows, and shedding tears as he toiled barefoot up the mountain, "while all the people that went with him covered every man his head, weeping as they went up." But tears of greater worth had been shed on that spot, when the "Man of Sorrows" stood on that mount, and beheld the city of Jerusalem, and wept over it, saying, "O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, if thou hadst known, even thou, at least in this thy day, the things that belong unto thy peace!—but now they are hid from thine eyes. For the days shall come upon thee that thine enemies shall cast a trench about thee, and compass thee round, and keep thee in on every side; and they shall lay thee even with the ground, and thy children within thee, and they shall not leave in thee one stone upon another, because thou knowest not the time of thy visitation." This affecting prophecy was unknown by Naomi, and would have been listened to with contempt, as uttered by the despised and crucified Jesus of Nazareth, whose name she had never heard repeated but as that of an impostor and malefactor, the leader of the hated sect of the Nazarenes. She lived, however, to see that very prophecy fulfilled—awfully and literally fulfilled.
Naomi and Deborah had nearly reached the highest part of the road, from whence a most commanding view was to be obtained of the Holy City, when they observed an aged woman sitting by the roadside, and while her eyes were fixed on the city below, the tears were flowing down her venerable cheeks. There was something in her countenance that attracted the attention of Naomi; and the age and apparent infirmities of this solitary mourner excited in her benevolent heart a strong desire to know the cause of her distress, and if possible to alleviate it. The woman was plainly, but respectably dressed, and had no appearance of poverty or bodily suffering, but it seemed that some melancholy reflections in her own mind had drawn forth her tears. On remarking that the eyes of the young Jewess were fixed upon her with intense curiosity, she hastily attempted to rise, as if to avoid further observation; but the staff on which she leaned for support slipped from her trembling hand, and she would have fallen to the ground, if Naomi had not sprung forward and caught her. She thanked her kindly and gratefully, and then resuming her staff, she would have proceeded alone; but as it appeared that she also was bending her steps towards Bethany, Naomi insisted on her leaning on her arm, and promised to take care of her as far as the village, where she and her nurse were going.
Deborah did not quite approve of this proposition, as she saw that the old woman moved very slowly, and she found that if they tarried for her it would be very late before they returned to the city; she therefore reminded her young charge that the day was wearing away, and that her mother would be alarmed if she did not return before sunset. But Naomi was not to be turned from her purpose, whether for good or for evil; and on this occasion she was determined not to abandon the aged stranger, for whom she felt a peculiar and increasing interest. She informed Deborah of her intention, begging her to proceed to Bethany, and execute the commission of her mother, while she would remain with her new friend—for such she already felt her to be—and join her nurse on her return.
Deborah had never opposed her, and she saw no necessity for doing so on the present occasion; though, could she have foreseen the ultimate consequences of that meeting, she would doubtless have considered it her duty to exert an unwonted degree of authority, and check the dangerous friendship that Naomi was about to form. But she anticipated no evil from Naomi's exercising towards this infirm old woman the benevolence and kindness that she always showed for those in suffering or distress; and she therefore hastened forward with an activity that was surprising at her time of life, and left Naomi to exert her endeavours to discover the cause of the tears which had so greatly excited her sympathy.
"Will you tell me," she timidly began, for she almost feared to intrude on the feelings of the venerable stranger,—"will you tell me wherefore you are in grief, good mother? It pains me to see you weep, and I should be so happy if it was in my power to wipe away those tears."
"Bless thee, my child," replied the old woman, with emotion, "these are the kindest words that I have heard addressed to me for many years. I am a solitary being now. All those who loved me best are long ago laid in the grave, and the friends whom I have found in later years have almost all retired to distant and more secure countries. But it was not for this that I wept; my tears were not those of sorrow for my own condition, which I would not change with the happiest and wealthiest in that city; but I wept for those who now dwell there in fancied security, and heed not the ruin that is coming upon them."
"What ruin?" said Naomi; "are you one of those who dread the Roman power, and think that we shall be given into their hands? My mother sometimes gives way to such fears, but it vexes my soul to hear her; for till I see the Gentiles trampling on our holy places I will never believe that they will again be permitted to enter the sacred walls of Jerusalem as conquerors. I should rejoice to hear of the near approach of the Gentile army; for, when all nations are gathered against Jerusalem to battle, then shall the Lord go forth against those nations, as when he fought in the day of battle.[[1]] His feet shall stand in that day upon the Mount of Olives, as our prophet Zechariah has testified; and oh! that I may live to see that glorious day, when Messiah shall at length come upon the earth!"
[[1]] Zechariah xiv. 2-4.
"Messiah is already come," said the stranger, gently and solemnly.
Naomi started, and turned to gaze on the countenance of the speaker. "What!" she exclaimed, in accents of horror, "are you a Nazarene? Are you a believer in that Galilean impostor, who suffered the just recompense of his seditions and deceptions?"
"I am a humble follower of the Holy Jesus, the Son of the Most High God, who suffered for our transgressions, and rose again for our justification," replied the stranger.
Naomi shrunk back, and dropped the arm of the aged Christian, as if she felt the touch of one who professed that detested creed to be pollution, and words of scorn and contempt rose to her lips. But her better feelings repressed these expressions; and a sentiment which she could not comprehend drew her again to the gentle and venerable woman, whom in her prejudiced judgment she despised. Again she offered her support to the stranger, and again it was accepted with grateful courtesy, while a benevolent smile lighted up her naturally serious countenance, as she observed the struggle in her young companion's feelings.
"You have been brought up, my daughter, to look upon us as a deluded and despicable sect, who have justly incurred the scorn and punishment that have so heavily been laid upon us, because we have forsaken the religion of our forefathers, and declared our belief that He, whom our chief priests and elders considered worthy of a cruel death, was indeed the Lord Christ, the long-promised Messiah. But there is a frankness in your manner and countenance that convinces me you only continue in this error because you are ignorant of the grounds of our faith, and have been taught to give credit to the false statements invented to excuse the murder of the Lord of Life, and to conceal the wondrous fact of his resurrection from the dead."
"I know," replied Naomi, "that it is said his disciples carried away his body by night, and then declared that he was risen. But who over saw him alive after his crucifixion?"
"I did," answered the stranger. "My eyes beheld him surrounded by his disciples; my hands touched his sacred and human form; my ears listened to his gracious voice, speaking as never man spake; and my heart believed and was comforted. I was with his sorrowing disciples when, on the day of his resurrection, we assembled to mourn over his death, and our blighted hopes; and in fear and trembling, because of the indignation of the Jews against his followers, we had closed the doors on our sad meeting. And then, while consternation filled every breast, He whom we wept as dead suddenly appeared in the midst of us, and said in his well-known voice, 'Peace be unto you.' Only those who were then present can know the feelings of our hearts at this unexpected apparition. We could not believe that it was he himself in bodily form, for our hearts were hardened, and we remembered not the words which he had spoken unto us, that he must be killed, and rise again the third day; and we thought that it was his spirit. But he showed us his hands and his side, so lately pierced by the nails and the spear of his murderers; and then we were glad, for we knew it was the Lord himself. And at other times I saw him, when he took bread, and did eat it before us, that no doubts might remain in our minds as to the actual resurrection of his body. And last of all I saw him, when he led his disciples out as far as to Bethany, and having exhorted them, and comforted them with the promise of his continual presence, he lifted up his hands and blessed them; and then, while every eye was fixed upon him, he rose slowly into the air, and ascended until a cloud received him out of our sight. Oh! how fervently did we then worship our risen and exalted Saviour! And while we yet looked steadfastly toward heaven, as he went up, two heavenly messengers stood by us in shining garments, and said, 'Why stand ye gazing up into heaven? This same Jesus, which is taken up from you into heaven, shall so come in like manner as you have seen him go into heaven.' Then we knew that he would no more visit the earth in person, until the latter day; and we returned to Jerusalem, full of joy and thanksgiving."
"Your words are wonderful to me," said Naomi. "I cannot think that you are trying to deceive me; and yet I cannot believe that all these strange things did really take place. I ought not, perhaps, to listen to you; and doubtless, my father, who is a priest of the holy temple, would be greatly displeased if he knew that I was holding converse with a Nazarene; and yet I feel an unaccountable interest in what you have been relating, and a strong desire to hear more of the Christian's faith and the Christian's God. Did you often see this Jesus of Nazareth before he was put to death, and did you then believe in him? I know that his disciples declared that he performed many and wonderful miracles; but our elders say that he worked them by the powers of Beelzebub, like the sorcerers of old. Did you ever witness any of these miracles?"
"Yes, my child, I was so highly favoured as to be present when he performed one of his most merciful and glorious miracles; for I am Mary, the sister of that Lazarus of Bethany whom he raised from the dead, and I beheld my brother come forth from the grave, where he had lain for several days, at the Almighty voice of the Son of God!"
"Oh, tell me that wonderful story," cried Naomi. "I have heard that Jesus did once raise a dead man to life, but I did not believe it; or I thought that if it was really true, yet that it was done by the assistance of evil spirits, or at all events that it was only performed at the command, and by the power of Almighty God, bestowed on him for that particular purpose, as it once was on our great prophet Elijah."
"It is true that the Lord Jesus did restore several persons to life, besides healing the sick, cleansing the lepers, giving sight to the blind, and speech to the dumb, and casting devils out of those who were possessed. But in all these miraculous works he differed from the prophets and holy men who have in former days been permitted to perform some similar wonders; for they only acted by the command of God, and had no power of themselves to restore the life, and health, and faculties which God alone can give or take away. But Jesus Christ possessed this power in himself, as the eternal Son of the Most High God; and he employed it according to his own most gracious will, saying to the leper, 'Be thou healed;' to the deaf and dumb, 'Be opened;' to the devils, 'I command thee to come out;' to the lame and the palsied, 'Take up thy bed and walk;' and to the dead, 'I say unto thee, arise'—'Lazarus, come forth!' The wind ceased at his command, and the waves were calm at the sound of his voice; and what was more wondrous still, the hearts of many sinners were changed; and those who had been vile and reprobate became sincere and godly men, living lives of devotion to the honour of God their Saviour, and the good of their fellow-creatures; and at last sealing their faith with their blood, and dying for the sake of Him who had died for them."
The earnestness with which the aged Mary spoke had almost overpowered her, and she stood still and trembled. Naomi, who was profoundly interested in her discourse, and most desirous that she should continue her recital, proposed to her that they should sit down on a grassy bank by the roadside, and there wait the return of Deborah from the village, which was not now far distant; and Mary could proceed thither at leisure, after resting herself from the fatigue of the ascent, and the excitement of speaking on a subject in which her heart was so deeply engaged. She told Naomi that she should wish to proceed a little further on the road before they seated themselves, for that the sacred and interesting spot where her brother had lain in his temporary grave was but a few paces distant; and there, where she herself frequently resorted to meditate on the astonishing event of his resurrection, she would detail to her young friend all the particulars that had marked the transaction.
NAOMI, AND MARY THE SISTER OF LAZARUS.
They accordingly advanced beneath some precipitous rocks that overhung the road on one side, and which were broken by several chasms, extending a considerable depth into the surface. At one of these caves, larger and deeper than the rest, Mary paused, and invited Naomi to descend a few rough steps, that led to a small and rocky area in front of the cavern where the body of Lazarus was laid. Here, in full view of the dark sepulchre, they sat down on a fallen mass of stone, while Mary related to her attentive auditor the scenes that were indelibly impressed on her own memory.
"You will not wonder, my dear young friend," she said, "at the warmth with which I speak of the blessed Jesus, when I tell you of all his mercy and love towards me and my brother and sister. He often retired to Bethany from the noise and crowd of the city, and our house was honoured by being made his home. The light of his countenance shed joy and peace over our dwelling, and his words were as heavenly music, to which we could have listened for ever. Oh! it was a blessed privilege to sit at his feet, and hear his words, and receive the divine instruction that flowed from his gracious lips. It was in the month Tisri,[[2]] a few days after our beloved Master had spent a day in our humble dwelling on his return into the country from attending the feast of tabernacles, that our brother Lazarus fell sick, and we soon perceived that his sickness was mortal. My sister and I were in deep distress; but we remembered the power and love of Jesus, and we delayed not to send a messenger to Bethabara, beyond Jordan, where we knew that he abode at that time. We could not doubt his willingness to succour us in our affliction, for he loved Lazarus, and he loved us also. Therefore we only sent to him, saying, 'Lord, behold he whom thou lovest is sick;' and we were fully convinced that he would instantly return to us and heal our brother. But our messenger had not long been gone when a fearful change took place in Lazarus. The fever increased, the struggles of death came on, and in anguish and despair we saw our only, our beloved brother expire! Did not Jesus know what was passing beneath our humble roof at Bethany? And could not he, who had performed so many miracles, have stayed the hand of death, and restored Lazarus to health with one word of his mouth? Such were the thoughts of our faithless hearts while weeping over the bed of death, and preparing for the hasty burial which is customary and necessary in this climate.
[[2]] The Hebrew month answering to a part of our September and a part of October.
"The place where Jesus then abode was a day's journey from Bethany; and Lazarus was laid in his cold grave almost at the moment when our messenger reached him who we hoped would come and heal him. The following day we expected to see our Lord arrive, if not to restore our brother, yet to comfort our bleeding hearts with his words of grace and love. But the messenger returned alone; and the reply which he brought us only weakened our expiring faith. Jesus had said to him, 'This sickness is not unto death,' and yet Lazarus was in the grave—what could we believe? what could we hope?
"Two more days, long melancholy days, passed away, and we sat mourning in our house, once the abode of happiness, and peace, and brotherly love—now gloomy and silent, save when the cry of the mourners, who sat with us on the ground, burst forth in a wild and sudden wail, and caused our tears to flow afresh. Many of our friends had come from the city to comfort us; but their sympathy brought us no relief, for our brother was dead, and Jesus had forsaken us; and all the consolation that Christians may now feel in the knowledge that Christ has purchased for them life and immortality, was but dimly understood by us. We had an uncertain hope that hereafter we should meet our brother in a happier world, and that Jesus would, with his own blood, wipe away all our sins and all our sorrows for ever. While we sat bowed down with grief, we heard a sound as of a distant multitude. The noise approached, and we soon perceived that Jesus and his disciples were drawing near the town. How anxiously had we watched and waited for that sound during the sad days that preceded our brother's death! But now it came too late—our faithless hearts dared not to indulge a hope that Lazarus should live again. Nevertheless Martha rose hastily, and went forth to meet our Lord, but I did not go with her; I sat still in the house, oppressed with sorrow. Soon she returned to me, and whispered softly, 'The Master is come, and calleth for thee,' and quickly I rose and went unto him; for he was still in the place where Martha met him, outside the town. When I saw his kind and gracious countenance, and thought on all his power and all his love, my grief and disappointed hopes overpowered my feelings of veneration and respect; and falling down at his feet, I exclaimed in the bitterness of my spirit, 'Lord, if thou hadst been here, my brother had not died!' It was a sinful murmur, but the merciful Jesus saw only the sorrow that dictated it, and did not reprove me; nay more, he sympathised in our human sufferings, and when he saw me weeping, and the Jews also weeping which came with me, he groaned aloud, and his countenance was troubled, and he said, 'Where have ye laid him?' We said to him, 'Lord, come and see;' and we led him towards this spot. Jesus wept! Yes, my child, he who had power over earth and heaven, the eternal Son of God, shed tears of sorrow for the death of his friend. He knew that that death would soon be chased away; he knew that at his word the dead would rise and all our grief would be swallowed up in joy, but yet he wept at the sight of human misery and woe. At length we reached the sepulchre; a large stone was placed before that cave which contained the body of Lazarus, and Jesus commanded us to remove it. Still did we not believe his gracious intentions; and my sister remonstrated against the stone being taken away, as she feared that ere that time putrefaction had begun, and that the remains of our dear brother were a prey to the worms. But Jesus gently reminded her of what he had said to her when first she went forth to meet him, saying, 'Said I not unto thee, that if thou wouldest believe, thou shouldest see the glory of God?' Then did hope once more animate our breasts, and in breathless anxiety we watched to see the end. When the heavy stone was taken away, there lay the lifeless corpse wrapped in grave-cloths. Jesus lifted up his eyes, and praised his heavenly Father; and then in a loud voice he cried, 'Lazarus, come forth!' What a thrill passed through the heart of every one of those who stood by, when from that dark cave we saw the dead arise and come forth endued with life! At the command of Jesus we hastily took away the cloths in which his hands and feet and face were bound, and beheld once more the beloved countenance of our brother, beaming with the same tender affection that was ever wont to animate it. I will not attempt to describe to you the joy and gratitude that filled our hearts, or the wonder that struck upon all who had witnessed this miracle. Many henceforth believed in Jesus, and this day was to them the beginning of life and eternal salvation: but some there were who could not be convinced, even by what they had seen, that Jesus was the Christ; and they went and told his deadly enemies the Pharisees, who were jealous of every wonderful work that he performed, and feared that the people should believe on him."
"Oh!" cried Naomi, "is it possible that any could behold such proofs of his power and his goodness, and yet seek to betray him into the hands of those who hated him! I am filled with wonder and amazement at all you have told me; and I am almost tempted to believe that ha was indeed Messiah. But then wherefore was he poor, and despised, and forsaken, and crucified? Wherefore did he not crush all his enemies, and take unto himself his great power, and reign over Judah?"
"I could reply to all those objections, my daughter," replied Mary, "but time will not now permit me. I see your companion coming towards us from the village, and my own strength is exhausted. I cannot recall the feelings of that blessed period of my life without deep emotion; but should we ever meet again, how gladly would I renew the subject, and endeavour to deepen the impression that I see is already made on your young heart."
"Oh that I could meet you often," said Naomi, "and hear more about Jesus of Nazareth. I never felt so deeply interested on any subject, and I cannot endure to think that I may hear of it no more. I almost tremble to propose it, as I know how heavy would be my father's displeasure if I were discovered;—and yet I am resolved to brave it. Will you let me come to your home, when I can do so unsuspected? and will you then let me listen to all that you can tell me? My parents are good and indulgent, and I would not deceive them for any other purpose; but I feel that there is something in your story that concerns my soul, and God will pardon my disobedience, while I am seeking to know his will."
We have said that Naomi was self-willed and impetuous: her feelings were ardent and uncontrolled; and in proportion to the contempt she entertained for the Nazarenes while she was ignorant of the character of Him whom they worshipped, was the admiration she now felt when that character was in some degree displayed to her, and the eagerness of her determination to know more of this gracious and glorious Being. She clasped her hands, and fixed her bright black eyes on Mary's countenance with a look so earnest and imploring, that the aged disciple saw the work of God was begun in her heart, and she doubted not that the work would be completed. She felt it to be a sacred duty to endeavour to snatch this young creature from the errors and prejudices which now obscured her mind, and lead her into the pure light of the Gospel, even though the pious effort was in opposition to the will of her mistaken parents. By the blessing of God, the conversion of their child might be the means of calling them also out of darkness into His marvellous light. She therefore readily consented to receive her young friend whenever she could contrive to visit her, and exhorted her to caution and circumspection, as otherwise danger might befall them both.
"For myself," she added, "it little matters how soon the worn-out thread of my life is severed; but I would not willingly shorten an existence which I may spend in my Master's service, though to depart and be with Christ would be much better. And you, I trust, my child, may have many years before you, in which to honour God, and serve his Son Jesus Christ. I cannot but believe that you will be brought to a knowledge of his name, and be an active and devoted servant of him whom once you hated and despised. Farewell, and may the blessing of the God of Israel be with you, and the grace of his Son Jesus Christ descend upon your heart."
Mary arose, and Naomi took her hand, which she kissed affectionately and respectfully, and then they advanced slowly to meet Deborah, who was hastening towards them with considerable speed.
"I fear," she exclaimed, "that I have kept you very long. I thought you would have entered the village ere this, and would have been tired of waiting for me; but I was detained much longer than I expected: and now we must hurry homewards, or your mother will be alarmed; and Zadok too will be displeased with me for keeping you out so late, if he returns from the evening service to the temple and finds you are not yet at home."
"Is Zadok the priest your father then?" asked Mary, with some anxiety; for she knew the strictness of his character as a Pharisee, and his abhorrence of the Christian name, and she feared that her young friend's dawning faith might be put to a severe trial, and even be extinguished, if Zadok ever obtained knowledge of it.
"Yes," replied Naomi, "I am his daughter, and I glory in saying so; for whose character stands so high as that of Zadok? and who is so kind and so good a father as Zadok? I would that you knew him, Mary."
"God bless you," again said the old woman; and they separated. She slowly bent her steps towards her humble home at Bethany, and lifted up her heart in fervent prayer for the soul of Naomi, who, with her nurse, rapidly descended the mount, crossed the brook, and entering the city, soon reached the abode of Zadok.
Bethany
CHAPTER IV.
From the lofty battlements of Jotapata, Josephus and his officers watched the close and endless files of the Roman army slowly advancing along the straight and level road that led to the city walls, and which had been formed by the pioneers of Vespasian. It was a fearful array of tried and valiant troops, led on by the most celebrated general of the time. The Jews had relied on their inaccessible position, their steep and rugged mountains, and the deep forests that surrounded their fortress, for security. What, therefore, was their astonishment and consternation when they saw the lofty trees falling around them, the rocks removed, the mountains cut through, and Vespasian with his whole army stationed on a hill within a mile of the city! The garrison were terror-struck, and retired behind their walls; while the Romans, though weary with their long march, and unprepared for an immediate assault, employed themselves in drawing a triple line of circumvallation round the city; so that every chance of escape for the cowardly, who might wish to attempt it, was effectually cut off. Finding that retreat was hopeless, the whole garrison recovered their wonted valour, and resolved to hold out to the uttermost, and fight while life remained. Their fierce resistance and stubborn resolution have seldom been equalled.
The following day they boldly left the shelter of their walls, and, pitching their camp before the trenches, advanced to meet the foe; and though galled by the archers and slingers of the Roman army, they made so vigorous a sally, that the assailants were driven down the hill. The battle was continued with desperation, until the darkness of night compelled them to separate, when Josephus led his troops back to their stations. Young Javan and his companions distinguished themselves by their determined bravery, which was not unobserved by the Jewish commander; and henceforth he stationed them near his own person, and employed Javan on many important occasions.
The city was built on the summit of a lofty hill, and on three sides was surrounded by ravines, so deep and rugged as to be quite impassable. It is said that the depth of the chasm was in some parts so profound, that, when looking from the summit of the walls, the eye could not reach the bottom. On these three sides, therefore, Vespasian could not hope to gain an entrance; but, on the north side, the city was more accessible, as the hill sloped gradually down from the walls; and here he resolved to raise a great embankment, from the top of which his men could discharge their missiles into the thickest ranks of the besieged. The whole army laboured at this work, defending themselves from the javelins and arrows of the Jews by a roof of wicker-work that was stretched over the workmen, and was strong enough even to resist the great stones that were hurled down by their enemies. To clear the walls of these assailants, Vespasian brought his military engines to bear on that point; and soon the stones and javelins discharged by the balistæ and catapults, and the yet more fearful balls of fire and flaming arrows, fell among the garrison in showers. The battlements were deserted in that quarter, but the Jews were not disheartened. They descended from the walls, and stole out in small parties on the workmen, destroying their breastworks, and wounding many of those who had laid aside their armour. But notwithstanding all their efforts to prevent it, the embankment was at length completed, and brought almost to a level with the height of their own walls, and their only resource was to raise the battlements so as to command the works of the enemy. To effect this, Josephus ordered strong poles to be fixed on the top of the walls, and on these a sort of curtain was fixed, of the hides of cattle, behind which the soldiers could work in safety; and they succeeded in raising the walls upwards of thirty feet. He also erected several towers, and otherwise strengthened the fortifications, to the astonishment and dismay of the Romans, who had flattered themselves that they should soon be masters of the city.
They knew not yet the courage and obstinacy of the Jews, or the ability and cunning of Josephus and his officers. Numerous were the sallies by which they annoyed their besiegers, sometimes even setting fire to the works they had but just erected, and destroying them. On one of these occasions, Javan led forth a small party of chosen men, and rushing upon the breastworks that concealed the enemy, they succeeded in tearing down a considerable portion, and wounding several Roman soldiers, without themselves receiving any injury; when the centurion who held the command of that band of men, hearing the conflict, hastened to their assistance and quickly restored order. He marshalled his men, and led them forward from the breastworks with so much impetuosity, as entirely to check the assailants; and directing his attack towards the young Jewish leader, Javan recognised his old friend Rufus. The centurion remembered him, and for his father's sake he forbore to press his advantage. He would not take the son of Zadok prisoner, or willingly injure him, though now an enemy; and he allowed him and his followers to escape unhurt to the walls. Javan did not imitate his generous forbearance; but as he fled he turned back, and cast a javelin at his former friend with such strength and fury as to shiver a portion of the armour in which he was encased, and inflict a slight wound in his side.
"Ha!" cried Rufus, "my mercy was ill-bestowed. I see that the same cruel and ungenerous spirit yet lives in that young fanatic. Forward, my brave men, and teach him that it was not because we feared him that we drew back." The Romans swiftly obeyed the word of their commander, and overtook the retreating party as they reached the foot of the wall. The portal from whence they had sallied forth was closed; and ere it could be opened by those within, a fierce struggle had begun. Several of the combatants on either side fell dead, or severely wounded; and Javan received a serious injury in his right arm, that left him defenceless, and exposed to the sword of his antagonist. The Roman who had inflicted the wound was about to strike at him with his short, double-edged blade, and his fierce spirit would have been quenched for ever; but at that moment a party of the garrison who had ascended the walls hurled down a massive stone that struck the uplifted arm of his assailant, and threw him with violence to the ground.
"The Lord strikes for his people!" shouted Javan; and snatching up the sword which had fallen to the earth, he with his left hand plunged it to the heart of his foe. Then turning away, he rushed through the now open door, leaving his party to follow him as they could. Similar skirmishes were often repeated, but they led to no important results; and Vespasian determined at length to blockade the city, and endeavour to reduce it by famine, since all his assaults proved ineffectual. He therefore ordered his troops to remain quiet in their quarters, and await the time when, reduced to starvation, the garrison would either surrender, or fall a more easy conquest to their renewed attacks.
The city contained a large supply of every necessary except water; but there was no spring within the walls, and the small quantity of rain-water that could be obtained was quite inadequate to the wants of the garrison and the rest of the inhabitants. This was measured out in very scanty portions, and after the blockade had been continued for some days, many began to faint beneath the severe privation, added to the fatigue they endured, and the fever that parched up the wounded and the sick. The Romans discovered their distress, and hoped for a speedy surrender; but the wily Josephus resolved to baffle their calculations, and he ordered a number of his men to dip their clothes in water, and then hang them over the walls, so that the moisture ran down; and the besiegers could no longer believe that the garrison were in want of water, when they could waste so much unnecessarily. Vespasian therefore resolved to renew the assault, which was exactly what the Jews desired, for it was better to perish by the sword than to die of thirst or famine.
Notwithstanding the close blockade kept up by the Romans, Josephus still contrived to keep up a communication with his friends without the city, by means of a narrow and rugged path down the bed of a torrent. It was so precipitous and dangerous that the Romans left it unguarded; and by this difficult way the messengers of the Jewish commander crept forth on their hands and knees, covered with skins of animals, and thus bearing letters to other towns, and bringing back many articles of great service to the besieged. But at length this was discovered, and all further exit by this passage was prevented. Josephus now began to despair of success, and even held a council with the chief persons in the city as to the possibility of effecting their own escape. This was discovered by the inhabitants, and they hastened to throw themselves at his feet, imploring him not to abandon them to the Roman vengeance. He was moved with pity at the sight of the terrified multitude of men, women, and children kneeling before him, and consented to relinquish his selfish purpose; and seizing the moment when they were filled with gratitude, he exclaimed. "Now is the time, then; if there is no hope of safety let us exert our utmost courage, and let us at least die nobly, and leave behind us a glorious example!" The most courageous of his soldiers gathered round him, and they rushed forth, carrying fire and sword into the enemy's lines. For three days these fierce sallies were repeated, and kept up a constant state of watchfulness and alarm in the Roman camp.
Vespasian, weary of this desultory warfare, now ordered the battering-ram to be brought against the walls. This tremendous engine was composed of an enormous beam of wood, terminating in the head of a ram, cast in iron; this was hung by ropes from another strong beam, supported by four tall posts. When it was required to exert its terrible force, it was drawn backwards by a number of men, and then driven forward with a shock, against which scarcely any wall could resist. This dreadful machine now slowly advanced against the walls of Jotapata, and the smaller engines commenced a quick discharge of stones and darts, to drive the Jews from the walls. Then began the thundering blows of the battering-ram, and the walls shook to their foundation. A cry rose from the city, for all the inhabitants believed that the Romans were even now entering their streets. Still was Josephus able to parry this new danger. He ordered a great number of bags to be stuffed with chaff, and suspended on the face of the wall, so as to meet and break the force of the ram; and this scheme entirely succeeded, to the great astonishment of the Romans. They however continued to sever the ropes to which the bags were tied, by means of sickles fastened to long poles, and then they recommenced their work of destruction. But the Jews rushed forth from their gates in three bodies, armed with flaming torches and every combustible they could seize. They set fire to the engines and the palisades, and drove back their assailants, who were confounded by the fire and smoke. Among the foremost was the fierce Javan, brandishing a flaming brand in his left hand, and carrying destruction and dismay wherever he turned. All the endeavours of the Romans to save their works were ineffectual; they suffered a great loss of men in the engagement, and all that had cost them such labour and ingenuity to erect was in less than one hour reduced to ashes.
One man among the Jews distinguished himself by an act of desperate courage, that has made his name memorable even to the present time. This was Eleazer, the son of Samæas, a Galilean, who standing on the wall at the time of the furious sally made by Josephus, took up an enormous stone, and hurled it at the head of the battering-ram with such force, that it broke off, and fell to the ground. He then descended from the wall and rushed forth into the midst of the enemy, and seizing on the ram's head, carried it off in triumph. The Romans, filled with indignation, cast at him a shower of darts and arrows, five or six of which entered his body: he nevertheless still bore off his prize, and carried it to the top of the wall, where he undauntedly showed himself and his trophy to the infuriated foe. But the wounds he had received were mortal, and sinking beneath them, he fell from the wall with the head of the ram still grasped in his dying hands. His heroic example animated his comrades with fresh courage, and they succeeded in destroying all the engines, and coverings, and breastworks of the fifth and tenth legions, which, notwithstanding their high reputation for bravery and discipline, had fled, confounded by the fierce desperation of their assailants, and blinded by the smoke and flame.
Still the Romans were not discouraged; and in the dusk of the evening they once more erected their terrible battering-ram against that part of the fortifications that was already shaken by its force; but during this operation one of the besieged cast a javelin from the wall, and pierced the neck of Vespasian. The Romans seeing their general wounded, were greatly discouraged, and his son Titus betrayed the deepest concern and alarm; but his father quickly removed their fears, and reappearing among his troops, those who had fled in dismay returned to their duty with fresh animation, and showed a determination to brave every danger in the hope of revenging the insult offered to their beloved general; and with a unanimous shout of defiance, they rushed upon the wall. The stones, darts, and arrows flew in showers upon the besieged, and many fell beneath the deadly strokes; yet others pressed forward to take their places, and in their turn poured fire and stones and pieces of iron upon the besiegers, who worked beneath their hurdles. The fires that burnt around shed a lurid light on this work of death, and guided the aim of the Jews on the walls; but the Romans were unable to distinguish their enemies above them. Nevertheless they continued to pour forth their missiles; and so vast were the stones that were thrown by the balistæ, and so resistless was their force, that they broke through the thickest ranks of the defenders, and striking against the towers and inner walls, brought down heavy pieces of masonry upon the crowds around. One man who stood between Javan and the Jewish commander had his head torn from his shoulders, and carried away to the distance of three furlongs. That was indeed a fearful night. The terrible and continued noise of the engines, the shouts of the soldiers, the screams of the women and children in the city, the groans of the wounded and dying, and the heavy crash of armour on the wall as the slain fell one upon another, formed a deafening and discordant sound that can hardly be conceived, and which was echoed back from the surrounding mountains; while the blood ran in streams from the walls, and stood in pools around their base. Until the morning watch the walls stood firm; but then they yielded before the battering-ram, and a breach was formed. Vespasian gave his wearied men a short respite before he led them on to storm the breach; then posting a strong body of cavalry entirely covered with armour at the foot of the wall, he commanded the infantry to apply the scaling-ladders. Josephus was not idle within; he stationed the least efficient of the garrison on those parts of the walls that were not immediately threatened; but all the best and bravest he disposed in front of the breach; and in the most perilous situation of all he stationed himself and Javan and four others, with directions to stop their ears against the noise of the legionaries, and receive their darts on their bended knees, with their shields locked together over their heads, until their quivers were exhausted, and then to sally forth and fall upon them with all their collected rage, and fight for their lives and their liberties, and those of their wives and children and aged parents. The women seeing the dreadful preparations on either side, gave themselves up for lost, and one wild dismal cry of anguish and despair burst from the crowded streets; but Josephus dreading the effect of their grief and consternation on the soldiers, ordered them all to be locked up in the houses, and with severe threats commanded them to be still.
Now the trumpets sounded for the charge, and the Romans gave a mighty shout, at the same moment sending upon the besieged such a cloud of arrows and darts that the air was darkened. Josephus's brave companions followed his directions, and stopped their ears to the sound, and defended their bodies from the darts. But as soon as the engines had played, and ere the engineers could renew the charge, they sallied forth upon them resolving to slay or be slain, and were followed by many other parties animated with the same desperate resolution. But the Romans at length drove them back, and succeeded in getting a footing on the wall. Josephus had now recourse to stratagem in this extremity, and ordered a quantity of oil to be heated, which, being quickly prepared, was poured in a boiling state on their assailants, and penetrating through the joints of their armour, burnt through their flesh, and maddened them with agony, so that, being unable to tear off their armour, they turned back and fled away, carrying confusion among their comrades; and many of them fell headlong from the narrow bridges by which they had passed to the walls from their embankment. The Jews also poured boiled fenugreek, a kind of herb, on the planks and bridges by which their enemies ascended, and thus made them so slippery that it was impossible for them to stand upright, and many fell with violence to the ground, and in that situation were struck at by those on the walls.
In the evening, Vespasian was forced to call off his discomfited men, of whom a great number were wounded, besides those who lay dead on the field. The loss of the Jotapateans was considerably less, and they were greatly encouraged by the result of that day. The Romans now commenced raising their mounds to a greater height, and also erected three strong and lofty towers, in which were placed bowmen and slingers to keep up a perpetual annoyance of the garrison; and they in their turn made frequent sallies, with no decisive effect, until, on the forty-seventh day of the siege, the enemy raised their works above the level of the walls, and looked down upon the devoted inhabitants. On that same fatal day, treachery effected what force and valour had so long failed to accomplish. One dastardly man was found mean enough to creep out of the city and desert to Vespasian, and inform him of the weak and distressed state of the garrison and the inhabitants of Jotapata. He urged him to make a sudden attack upon the place during the last watch of the night, when, worn out with fighting and watching, the garrison would be in a profound sleep, and even the sentinels would probably be slumbering also, so weary and faint were they now become. At first Vespasian doubted the traitor's story, and thought it was only a stratagem of Josephus to ensnare him; and this suspicion was strengthened by the fidelity and constancy which had hitherto been displayed by the Jotapateans who had fallen into their hands. One man had even endured the sharpest torments by fire, which had been applied by the Romans to induce him to disclose the secrets of the garrison; and, smiling at their cruel efforts, had afterwards patiently sustained the tortures of crucifixion. Vespasian, however, believed that the consequences to his mighty army could be but trifling, even if he were deceived; he therefore kept the deserter in close custody, and gave orders for attacking the city.
At the hour mentioned by the traitor, his troops advanced silently to the walls, and Titus led a small party of the fifth legion to the summit. Here they instantly slew the sentinels before an alarm could be raised, and then quietly entered the city, followed by Placidus and Sextus Cerialis, with Rufus the centurion, and the men under their command. They seized upon the citadel, and, favoured by a thick mist and the drowsiness of the inhabitants, they were in the very heart of the city before the garrison had been aroused to their danger. The entrance of the whole Roman army then showed them the extent of their misfortune, and the furious and indiscriminate slaughter which commenced proved that their enemies remembered all they had suffered in the siege, and were determined to revenge it. They charged down from the citadel, hewing down all who opposed them, and driving the terrified inhabitants into the narrow streets and lanes, where they fell an unresisting prey to their enemies, while many were pushed over the steep precipices by the force of the crowd behind them, and dashed to pieces. A few of the most resolute gathered round Josephus, and several of them, seeing the hopelessness of their situation, died by their own and by each other's hands, rather than be slain by the enemy. A party of the guard fled to a tower, and there made some resistance; but they were soon surrounded and forced to surrender; and the Romans became entire masters of the celebrated city of Jotapata, with the loss of but one of their men. This was a centurion named Antonius, who was slain by an act of cunning. One of the Jews, who had taken refuge in a cave, held out his hand to him, promising to surrender if he would assist him to clamber out. Antonius took his hand, and at that moment the other struck him through the throat with his spear and killed him instantly.
The city was given up that day to a general slaughter, and all who were seen in the houses and streets were put to the sword. The following day a strict search was made in the caves and hiding-places, where multitudes had taken refuge, and of these the men were slain, and the women and children reserved as prisoners. About twelve hundred were collected to be carried away into captivity, and it is supposed that nearly forty thousand were slain from the commencement of the attack on the city. Vespasian then ordered the city to be burnt to the ground, and all its boasted towers and walls were quickly reduced to ashes.
Josephus had been sought for in vain during the carnage; no pains were spared to discover and capture him, who was the chief object of the siege, and who had excited the resentment of the Romans and their general by the obstinacy of his resistance. On the taking of the city, when he saw that all other hope of safety was gone, he had leaped down a dry well, from the bottom of which he knew that a long passage led to a subterranean cave, entirely concealed from the view of those above. Here he found forty men of consequence and note, and among them his young friend Javan, who had all sought refuge in this secure retreat, and with them was one woman, the wife of a citizen of the party. These persons had hastily collected, and carried down to the cave, a sufficient quantity of provisions to sustain them for several days; and Javan being separated from his general, and hopeless of any success by further resistance, had joined them, and shared their place of concealment. Josephus remained in the cave during the day, but at night he ascended, accompanied by Javan, and sought to effect his escape; but finding every avenue strictly guarded, he was compelled to return to the cave. The third night he was attended by the citizen's wife, who promised to point out to him a secret way by which he could escape; but she had deceived him, and as soon as she had conducted him within hearing of the sentinels, she fled from him, and betrayed to the soldiers where he made his hiding-place. This was immediately made known to Vespasian, who sent two tribunes, named Paulinus and Gallicanus, to persuade him to surrender. He had returned to the cave, and was startled by hearing his own name loudly called from the top of the well; and the tribunes proceeded to deliver to him their general's offer of mercy. But Josephus had no dependence on the mercy of the Romans, and refused to come up, till Vespasian sent another tribune, named Nicanor, with whom he was well acquainted, and who, by various arguments and promises, at length induced him to consent.
But the Jews, who were in the cave with him now opposed this resolution, and reproached him severely for his cowardice and fear of death, which could induce him to give himself up voluntarily to the Romans. They reminded him how often he had exhorted them to die rather than submit to their enemies, and how many of their fellow-citizens and soldiers had already done so; and they declared that if he could forget his own honour, they would take care that he did not disgrace their country. They therefore gave him his choice, whether he would die nobly and voluntarily by their hands, and be for ever remembered with honour as the valiant general of the Jews, or persist in his intention and be slain as a traitor, which they declared should be his fate the moment he attempted to go forth to the tribunes. And, saying this, they surrounded him with their naked swords, and awaited his reply.
Josephus now exerted all his wonted eloquence, in the effort to save his own life, and to persuade his companions to join him in surrendering to the conquerors. But however ingenious his arguments and powerful his appeals, they failed to move his auditors, who were only the more enraged at him, and rushed against him with their swords. He stood like a wild beast at bay, parrying the strokes of some, calling on others by name, entreating, commanding, imploring.
"Javan!" he cried, "do you join to murder your general? you, who have fought so bravely by my side, and gloried in my approbation. If these Galileans would take away my life, will you, a true-born Jew, desert me?"
Javan regarded him at that moment with a feeling of pity and contempt. He dropped his sword, and his example was followed by the rest, some of whom still entertained a regard for the general, who had hitherto displayed such wisdom and courage in the defence of their town. He seized the favourable moment, and exclaimed, "If you are resolved to die, let us cast lots who shall first be slain. Thus each will suffer death in turn; and yet none incur the guilt of dying by his own hand. It would be dishonourable in me to survive, if all the rest are determined to perish." This proposal was readily acceded to, for all believed that Josephus would share the same fate with themselves. The lots were cast, and one by one these undaunted men offered their breasts to the sword of him who was doomed to be his executioner. Whether by chance, or, which is more probable, by artifice, so it was that the lot fell not on Josephus, until all were slain except himself and one other. That other was young Javan; and his fierce spirit did not shrink from enduring the death which he had just inflicted on the last of his companions. But his general felt equally repugnant thus in cold blood either to slay a fellow-creature, or to submit to the stroke of death from him; and promising him his future friendship, he at length so worked on the young man's feelings and natural love of life, that he agreed to ascend with him and submit to the promised clemency of Vespasian.
Nicanor immediately led them to the general, while all the Romans crowded round to obtain a sight of this distinguished man. Many from a distance cried out that he should be punished with death; but those who stood near, and regarded his fallen countenance, were touched with pity for his misfortunes, and admiration of his great and noble exploits; and Titus, above all the rest, was filled with sympathy for the captive. He persuaded his father to grant Josephus his life; but he was kept closely guarded, and it was supposed he would be sent immediately to Rome to the Emperor Nero. Josephus dreaded this event, and in the hope of avoiding it, he entreated a private interview with Vespasian; and all having withdrawn, except Titus and two other friends, he declared that it was not from a love of life that he had given himself up to the Romans, but because he was commissioned to announce to Vespasian and his son that they were appointed to succeed to the imperial dignity. He then implored that he might not be sent to Nero, but be kept in chains, if it was thought necessary, until his prediction was fulfilled; for he acknowledged, that if he should be found guilty of having deceived his conqueror in the name of the God of Israel, he should deserve a worse punishment than captivity.
Vespasian was struck with the prophetic promises of the captive; yet suspecting his sincerity, he asked him how it was that if he could foretell future events, he had not foreseen the fall of Jotapata and his own captivity, and sought to avert the calamity. Josephus replied that he had repeatedly warned the Jotapateans of their coming fate, and told them that they would hold out the siege for forty-seven days, when they would be conquered, and he himself taken prisoner. On this declaration the Roman general caused inquiry to be made among the prisoners as to its truth; when they asserted that such prophecies had actually been pronounced by their leader. Whether this was really the case or not, we cannot now determine; but it had the effect of impressing on Vespasian's mind the prediction of his own future greatness; and though he did not set the prophet at liberty, he treated him with great kindness, and made him several valuable presents. Javan also was kept in strict captivity with the other prisoners who were reserved either for sale or as domestic slaves to their conquerors. The rough but kind-hearted Rufus visited him frequently, and took many opportunities of adding to his comforts, and enlivening his spirits by his conversation and encouragement. But he could not resist reminding Javan of the unworthy return he had once made to his forbearance and friendship, when he wounded him so ungratefully after his sally from the walls. "Methinks," he said, "that the generosity and virtue of one whom you call a heathen, has shown itself to be superior to the boasted religion of the Jews; for I forgive you, and come to your relief, and you sought to slay me at the moment when I forbore to injure you."
This reproach cut the proud self-righteous Pharisee to the heart, but he could not reply to it; and Rufus changed the subject, to talk to him of their mutual friends at Jerusalem.
Would to God there were among ourselves no nominal Christians, who by their cruel and vindictive, or otherwise unchristian spirit, give occasion to the enemies of our holy religion to speak evil of that which they profess, but do not follow. But even as they were not true children of Abraham, who trusted to themselves that they were righteous,—and, while indulging pride and cruelty, and revenge, yet despised others,—neither are we all Christians who are called by the name of Christ, if we seek not to imitate the charity, and meekness, and holiness, and love that shone forth in the life of our Master and Redeemer.
Interior of the Golden Gate
CHAPTER V.
It was on the sabbath-day that the intelligence of the fall of Jotapata, and the massacre of the garrison and inhabitants, reached Jerusalem; and the dreadful news brought grief and consternation into the city. Their chief warrior, on whom they depended as the leader of their armies, was reported to have fallen; their choicest troops were slain; and one of the strongest of the Galilean fortresses destroyed. But though the dejection and sorrow were general, yet in some families it was more profound and heartfelt, for they had lost a son, a brother, or a husband among the Jewish troops. In Zadok's house the sound of mourning and woe was heard, for it was believed that Javan was slain. He had joined the army of Josephus, and was known to be present at the siege of Jotapata; and as all the garrison as well as the inhabitants were reported to be massacred, his parents, his sister, and the faithful old Deborah wept and lamented for him as dead, with all the vehemence, and the deep demonstrations of grief, that were always exhibited by the ancient Jews, and still distinguish the inhabitants of the East in all cases of severe affliction. Javan's faults were now forgotten, and it was only remembered that he was a son and a brother; and even Claudia, who had never loved him, was filled with sorrow at the thought of his untimely and cruel death. Zadok sought in vain to console his weeping family; while his own heart was torn with grief for his lost son, and saddened at the unhappy prospects of his ill fated country.
But while he was absorbed in gloomy thoughts, the trumpets of the temple sounded long and loud, and reminded him that it was the hour for the evening sacrifice, and that he must lay aside all worldly feelings, and go forth to minister in the Lord's house. It was his turn that day to officiate at the altar in the order of his course; and no private business or private sorrow must be allowed to interfere with his holy office. He therefore performed the necessary ablutions and purifications, and assumed his priestly robes. The trumpets sounded again, and he set forth towards the temple; and ere he had ascended the broad flight of steps that led to the outer court, the third and last summons pealed forth, and echoed from the hills around, to call the inhabitants and the throngs of priests and Levites to worship in that glorious house of God. The cheerfulness and peace which usually marked the weekly festival of the Jewish sabbath, had been interrupted and clouded that day by the news from Jotapata; and the crowds of rich and poor, old and young, master and slave, who had met without the gates to enjoy the day of rest, and indulge, according to their custom, in social intercourse, had hurried into the city to listen to the gloomy tidings. The dismay and sorrow that had stricken so many families prevented the temple service from being so numerously attended as usual, and delayed the arrival of the congregation; so that Zadok entered the outer court (or court of the Gentiles), and found the spacious area nearly deserted. His spirit was sad, and he walked slowly through the pillared cloisters that surrounded the court, and led to the stately dwellings of the priests and ministering officers of the temple. Beneath the alabaster porticoes and colonnades were the seats where the elders and sages passed much of their time in instructing the people, but they were now unoccupied. He passed on to the inner or holy temple, and looked with melancholy pride and admiration on the marble walls, the gold and silver gates, the ornaments of clustering grapes, and pomegranates of glittering gold and brass, the cedar roofs, and splendid hangings of purple and scarlet, and the altars of rich incense that filled the air with the most exquisite perfumes, and his naturally sanguine spirit was depressed. Even he felt that the power of the Romans was becoming irresistible, and that ere long, flushed with their Galilean victories, they would appear before the walls of Jerusalem. With their divided and ill-governed troops, how could the Jews hope to resist their countless and well-disciplined forces? and should they once more gain access into the holy and beloved city, urged on by revenge and fury, where would their ravages cease? and what would be the fate of the sacred building in which he stood? Its beauty and its sanctity might fail to preserve it from the destroying hands of the idolaters, though every son of Israel were to shed his blood in its defence.
Zadok strove to shake off these dismal forebodings, so unusual to his heroic and exalted character; for, relying on the arm of Jehovah, and believing the Jews to be his only and peculiar people, he seldom admitted a thought that any serious calamity would be permitted to fall on them. He approached the altar of sacrifice, now surrounded by the gathering crowd, and took from the hands of the attending Levites the appointed victims, two being always prepared for the sabbath offering. He slew them, and presented them before the Lord with all the accustomed forms; and while the smoke of the altar ascended in a cloud of the richest incense, he looked forward in faith to that Messiah, of whom he knew these sacrifices were but the type, and whom he believed in his blindness had not yet appeared on the earth to take away sin, and redeem his people. But though Zadok was in error, yet his piety was sincere and fervent, and his soul was comforted by the sacred service and the holy worship; so that he returned to his house with a more cheerful countenance.
But sorrow and dismay had taken possession of the city, and for thirty days the voice of wailing was heard in Jerusalem. Almost every family was called to mourn some private calamity, in the loss of their friends and relations who had fallen at Jotapata; while all united in deploring the death of Josephus as a heavy national affliction; and musicians were hired to perform funeral chants to his memory. The chiefs and elders met in frequent council, to devise what measures should be adopted for checking the further progress of the Romans: but their assemblies were generally broken up in wrath and violence, for among the contending parties who exercised power and tyranny in the unhappy city, none could be found to unite cordially for the general good; and nothing effectual was determined on. Zadok attended several of these councils, and endeavoured by his manly good sense and acute judgment, to lead the conflicting chiefs to lay aside their private quarrels, and join heart and hand for the common defence of their country; but his voice was unheeded, and jealousy and passion reigned supreme. So violent were some of the parties on one occasion, that at length he departed from the scene of tumult, and hastened to his home, where yet he could enjoy domestic peace and tranquillity.
Naomi met him as he entered the vestibule, and he was astonished at seeing her lovely face radiant with smiles of joy. She knelt before him with the graceful veneration which was always expected from the children of the ancient Israelites towards their parents when demanding their blessing, on their return from the temple, or on any other solemn occasion; and her father fondly laid his hands on her glossy and raven hair, and pronounced the customary benediction, "God make thee as Sarah, and Rebecca, and Rachel, and Leah;" thus using the words of the patriarch Jacob, but substituting the names of those favoured women of Ephraim and Manasseh, as the blessing was addressed to a female. Naomi then sprang up, and threw herself into the arms of her father, exclaiming, "Javan is alive! my brother is safe! Oh let us praise the Lord for his goodness!"
She was quickly followed by Salome, who with tears of joy and gratitude presented to Zadok a letter from their friend Rufus, and informed him that a special messenger had arrived with the letter immediately after his departure for the temple. It was accompanied by one to Claudia, which had declared its contents, and given them the happy intelligence of Javan's preservation and safety; but they had waited impatiently for Zadok's return, to satisfy their curiosity as to all the particulars of his fate. Their joy was greatly clouded when they found that he was a prisoner in the Roman camp, though Rufus assured them that he was kindly treated, and that there was a hope of his being released if the Jews submitted, and any exchange of prisoners took place. But Zadok knew that of such an event there was not the slightest probability, as the Jews were resolved to resist the Roman power to the very uttermost; and his own national pride and desire for the independence of his people were so great, that even to procure the freedom of his son, he could not bring himself to hope for their submission. He did not however communicate these reflections to his wife and daughter; and he joined with them in their joy and gratitude that Javan's life was spared.
Rufus had hoped that his messenger would have reached Jerusalem before the sad tidings of the fall of Jotapata were known there, and that thus his friends would be spared the shock of believing that their son had fallen in the general massacre; but it had required some trouble and ingenuity to convey his letters into the hands of a trustworthy Jew, who would undertake to deliver them to Zadok, as of course none of his own Roman troops could go on such an errand; and ere all this could be arranged, the intelligence had flown to the capital. The packet contained also a letter from Marcellus to Claudia, which had been sent from Rome by a friend of his, who was ordered to join the camp with a reinforcement of troops, and Rufus had now forwarded it to his daughter. As we have heard but little of the proceedings of the young Roman, we will here give the substance of his letter:—
"It is a long time, my dearest Claudia, since I have found means of writing to you; and I now gladly avail myself of the departure of a body of soldiers to Galilee, one of whom is a valued friend of mine, and will safely convey my letter. When last I heard from you, you mentioned the probability of your going to our old friends at Jerusalem; and I rejoiced to think that you would again enjoy their society, and be in peace and safety under their happy roof. How few of their nation are so free from prejudice and superstition as to admit a Roman maiden into their house as a member of the family! Javan alone will make your residence there in any way irksome, for if he is not greatly changed, he will almost scorn to eat at the same table with a Gentile. But our dear Naomi and the kind gentle Salome will be to you is a sister and a mother, now that you are bereft of your own beloved parent; and Zadok is too generous and too high-minded to suffer you to be slighted while under his protection. Oh that I were with you, my sister! All the magnificence and gaiety of Rome do not compensate me for being so far removed from all whom I have loved from childhood; and I often think with regret of the happy hours I have passed with you and Naomi among the groves and gardens of Judea. I rejoice to say that my time of probation is almost over, and I shall soon be enrolled among the soldiers of Rome, and sent to join one of the legions now on duty abroad. Our uncle Sulpitius has much interest with the emperor, and he promises to get me appointed to the tenth legion, which is commanded by the noble Titus, and is now in Galilee, forming part of the great army with which Vespasian hopes ere long to quell the Jewish rebellion. I shall then be with my father, and also shall hope to see you, and possibly Naomi also, for the war cannot last much longer. The Jews must soon submit to the overwhelming power of Rome; and I trust they will do so before much more blood is shed, and before Vespasian leads his troops against Jerusalem itself, which is said here to be his intention. What would be my feelings, if as a Roman soldier I was forced to assist in the capture of the place where our dear Naomi and all her family dwell, and to fight against her father, and her brother! You, my sister, would of course be removed to some safe refuge; but I know that Zadok would remain to counsel and aid his countrymen; and Naomi's devoted spirit would never allow her to seek safety in any other spot, while her father, her mother, and her beloved city, were exposed to danger. Oh! that her valiant and patriotic people may yet be wise in time, and by a prudent submission avert the fearful calamities which may otherwise overtake them! Their further resistance will only exasperate the emperor and his generals yet more and more, and bring a heavier ruin on their heads. My heart is in Jerusalem; and while I glory in being a Roman, I feel that Jerusalem is still my home, and the place where I would wish to dwell. This is a glorious and magnificent city, even surpassing all my expectations. You, I think, must have quite forgotten the city where you were born, for even I had but a faint recollection of some of the chief streets; and everything seemed strange to me when I returned, except my uncle's house and his extensive garden, where we used to play in our childhood with our cousin Camillus. Whenever I enter this lonely spot I feel at home again; and such recollections rush to my mind of my dear mother, that I can hardly believe she is departed, and that I shall see her no more. May her spirit be blessed wherever it now dwells!
"You know that the house in which we lived in Rome has been destroyed, and a noble temple dedicated to Mercury new occupies the place where it stood. Doubtless you will suppose that thither I often bend my steps and pay my vows; but, Claudia, it is not so. I live in the capital of the gods of Rome; and wherever I turn I behold splendid fanes, and rich altars, and exquisite sculptures set up in honour of these countless deities; but I have ceased to bow my knee to any of them. Yet do not suppose, that like so many of my young countrymen, in discovering the fallacy and absurdity of the system in which I had been educated, I have cast off all belief, and become an infidel. No, I have learnt to worship the one true God of heaven and earth; and tell your friend Naomi that henceforth she must not think of Marcellus as a blind idolater, who bows down to images of wood and stone, but a sincere worshipper of Jehovah. And yet I do not declare myself a Jew, for many of the Jewish rites and ceremonies still seem to me but folly; and I have been instructed in many things that I would wish to communicate to you, but I dare not until we meet. Oh, Claudia, let a brother's entreaties and a brother's example induce you to embrace a better faith than that which now you hold. Listen to the words of Naomi, and she will tell you of the power, and wisdom, and love of our great Creator, who is far above all gods; and may He enlighten your mind to see in Him the true Deity, and lead you to despise those gods that are the work of men's hands, and have no power to do either good or evil.
"Through His mercy I became acquainted with an aged man, learned in the Scriptures and full of piety and holiness. His arguments have convinced me of the folly of idolatry, and the happiness of putting all our trust in the Almighty Jehovah. I beseech you to read those holy Scriptures with care and diligence, and by the blessing of God you will learn the truth; and then when I see you, my sister, I will impart to you what further knowledge I have received from my venerable friend. He has many scholars here, but he is hated and despised by the Romans, as the doctrines that he teaches, and the mode of life that he inculcates and follows, are in direct opposition to the absurd faith and luxurious lives of the people of this great but wicked city. Nero especially holds in abhorrence both the Jews and those who attend the teaching of my instructor. All his time is devoted to amusement or to cruelty; and on the Nazarenes, who are numerous in Rome, he wreaks his vengeance with an unsparing hand, whenever they are discovered and dragged before him. You will shudder when I tell you of the dreadful treatment which some of these unhappy people have met with lately.
"A party of them were discovered and accused before the emperor of being followers of Jesus of Nazareth; and they boldly avowed the charge, and declared their resolution to endure all things that could be inflicted on them, but never to deny the name of Jesus. The indignation of Nero was excited at their undaunted reply, and he determined to employ the severest cruelty, in order to force them to submit to his commands, and to bow down to an idol. But nothing could shake their firmness, and they were given over to death in its most hideous forms. Some of them were enclosed in the skins of beasts, and turned into the Circus, and torn to pieces by dogs. Others were crucified; and to increase their torments, they were insulted and mocked in their dying agonies. And worse than all, when the public games were performed in the emperor's own gardens, and the populace were admitted to see them, some of these miserable Christians were covered with wax and other combustibles, and fixed in different parts of the gardens, with a sharp stake placed under their chin to keep them upright, and in that situation they were set on fire, and burnt alive to serve as flambeaux to light the spectators! My blood boils while I describe these enormities, which doubtless will call down a judgment on those who perpetrated them, and on this guilty city; though many of the inhabitants were filled with pity and indignation at the eight of such sufferings, and would have endeavoured to obtain the pardon of the Nazarenes, had not the character of Nero and his violent and bloody temper deterred them from the attempt. Think not that I witnessed these executions. Camillus would have dragged me to the gardens, but I left him, and fled from the city in horror and disgust. I grieve to say that he witnessed and enjoyed the revolting spectacle; though his natural refinement of disposition would, I should have imagined, have deterred him, even if no feelings of humanity existed in his heart. Unhappily he is devoted to the worst species of philosophy; and disregards all religion and all care for the good of mankind, making his own individual enjoyment the sole object of his existence. He believes that when he dies his spirit will be totally annihilated, and that therefore it is the highest wisdom to seize on every enjoyment now within his grasp, and think not of the future. He passes much of his time in the schools of the Epicurean philosophers, whose doctrines he finds agreeable, and many of whom are certainly men of great abilities, and capable of giving useful instruction on every subject unconnected with religion. On my first arrival in Rome, I frequented their schools with Camillus, and the charm of their eloquence almost beguiled me into adopting their opinions; but, happily for me, my acquaintance with the old teacher whom I have mentioned already, occurred in time to save me from such pernicious doctrines.
"I also accompanied our cousin to the amphitheatres and other public exhibitions; but they soon wearied me, and the barbarity of the combats of the gladiators, and the cruel struggles of condemned criminals with wild beasts, shocked and disgusted me; and notwithstanding the ridicule of Camillus and his equally thoughtless companions, I have ceased to attend these spectacles. Indeed I usually seize the opportunity of my uncle and cousin being thus engaged, for repairing to the humble dwelling of my beloved teacher, where I listen to his words of truth and piety with untiring and increasing attention.
"In this luxurious city, the house of Sulpitius is remarkable for its simplicity and absence of all ornament. He prides himself on preserving the same frugality and modesty in his dwelling and establishment that so peculiarly distinguished the ancient Romans in the days of the Republic. He extends this simplicity to every part of his domestic life, and it is only when he takes his place as a senator that he assumes such robes as are suitable to his rank and wealth; on all other occasions his attire is plain, even to singularity, and forms a contrast to the splendid and expensive attire of Camillus, who is permitted to indulge all his tastes and fancies to the utmost, though so widely differing from those of his father. The increasing luxury and refinement of the Romans is a source of deep grief to Sulpitius: but he feels that it is in vain to attempt to check it, even in his own son; and with a few of his friends who still retain their virtue and simplicity of manners, he bewails the corruption of the times. The sumptuous golden palace of Nero excites his highest indignation, as an example of extravagance and lavish indulgence that will be pernicious to the whole nation. It is indeed a splendid edifice, and fitted up with gold and silver, and marble and precious stones, and Babylonian carpets, as if almost to vie with the temple at Jerusalem. But nothing has excited my admiration and wonder more than the aqueducts and the public roads, which I have seen in my excursions in the neighbourhood. The roads are carried in a direct line from the city, as a grand centre, to the towns around, and I hear that they extend through great part of the Roman dominions. All obstacles are made to give way; hills are levelled, and valleys filled up, and bold arches thrown over streams and rivers. The middle of the road is raised to a considerable height, with a mixture of sand and gravel united into a solid mass with a powerful and durable cement, and this terrace is then paved with large hewn stones, so well laid together that I imagine they must last as long as the world endures. There are houses established at every five or six miles' distance, which are constantly supplied with forty horses for the use of travellers, and on any urgent occasion the messengers of the emperor travel along these roads at a rate of a hundred miles a-day. All this is a fine effect of Roman power and civilization, and so is the extensive and lucrative commerce that is carried on with every country in the known world; but I blush for the corrupt tastes of my countrymen, when I see silk dresses purchased with an equal weight of gold, and immense sums of money squandered in the Asiatic merchants' shops, for pearls, and jewels, and aromatics, and hangings, and carpets from Tyre and Babylon, and the distant cities of Persia. The strongest mark of the decline of Roman manners is, I think, the ostentatious display which every citizen now makes of a multitude of household slaves. In one palace that I have visited with my uncle, no less than four hundred are to be found; and the wealth of a Roman is estimated by the number of slaves that he possesses. That is a melancholy species of wealth which consists in the persons of our fellow-creatures! Camillas says that they were born to serve the Romans; but I cannot believe that the great and merciful Creator designed one race of men to be subject to the cruelty and caprice of another, or that victory in war can entitle the conquerors to treat the vanquished like beasts of burden. A sad procession of captive Jews arrived here a few days ago, sent by Vespasian from one of the conquered cities of Galilee, and they were led to the public market and sold as slaves. Their manly and heroic countenances filled me with pity and with grief, and I was weak enough—as Camillus would have called it—to weep at the degradation of so many noble human beings; and particularly when I reflected that they were Naomi's fellow-countrymen, and that her own father and brother, yes, and even she herself, might one day be exposed to the same indignity and misery. Oh may the Lord avert so deep a calamity, and give the Jews a heart to see their danger and imprudence, and to retrace their steps, ere themselves and all most dear to them are plunged in ruin and in slavery! Farewell, my dear Claudia. Commend me with great affection and respect to Naomi, and greet her parents and her brother as my oldest friends. The blessing of heaven attend you all; and may God listen to the prayers that are daily offered up for you by your brother
"MARCELLUS."
This long letter from her beloved brother gave Claudia the greatest pleasure; and though she expressed much surprise at the entire change in his sentiments on religion, and the deep importance which he now seemed to attach to that subject, yet the change did not appear to give her any dissatisfaction, and from that time she listened with attention and complacency to all the arguments of Naomi, and even obeyed her brother's injunction to peruse the inspired writings of Moses and the prophets, of which her friend possessed a beautiful copy. The intelligence conveyed in the letter of Marcellus was to Naomi a source of unmixed joy and gratitude. That he who had so long possessed her esteem and affection should have forsaken the sin and folly of idolatry, and have learned to worship that one Supreme Being who was the object of her entire devotion, filled her with delight; and she felt that her attachment to him, against which she had so long struggled, was now no longer guilty. But a great change had taken place in her own opinions and feelings since her first interview with Mary on the Mount of Olives. All that she had heard from that aged disciple of the Lord Jesus Christ had sunk deep into her heart, and God had caused the word of truth spoken by his feeble servant to take root in the soul of the young Jewess. She could not banish the subject from her thoughts; and the natural energy and determination of her character led her to risk everything, in order to obtain information on a point which she felt to be one of eternal consequence.
She had therefore used all her influence with the kind-hearted, indulgent old Deborah; and had already induced her to accompany her more than once to the house of her Christian friend, and to leave her there to enjoy, for as long a time as it was safe to do so, the conversation that was at once so interesting and so delightful. Deborah was not informed that Mary was one of the detested sect of the Nazarenes, or even Naomi would have failed to persuade her to assist in these stolen interviews; but she knew that her religion differed from that of her young friend, and therefore she believed that she was of a different sect of Jews to that of which Zadok and his family were distinguished members, and that consequently Naomi's friendship for her would be disapproved of by her father; but she thought no great harm could come from these meetings, and promised that she would keep them secret.
Nothing would ever have induced the open-hearted affectionate Naomi to conceal any of her actions from her parents, but the certainty that, in this case, their knowledge of her object, and the change that was rapidly being effected in her sentiments, would only cause them profound grief and excite their severe displeasure, without in any way banishing from her mind the ardent desire and resolution to become acquainted with the doctrines of Christianity. She felt that her soul was at stake; and if all she heard from Mary was true, it was her duty even to forsake her father and mother, rather than deny and abandon that faith which was able to make her wise unto salvation. She could not conceal from herself that already she was almost persuaded to be a Christian; and the blessed hopes of life and immortality that were opened to her mind as the Gospel of Jesus Christ was gradually mads known to her, brought with them a satisfaction and joy such as she had never felt before, and such as she would not have resigned for any earthly consideration.
"Would Marcellus ever believe in the crucified Jesus of Nazareth?" was a thought that crossed her mind with force, while she rejoiced in the declaration which she had just heard in his letter to Claudia, of his being no longer an idolater;—"otherwise should we not be still divided by our faith, even as we have ever been?"—and her first act on finding herself alone, was to implore that the same grace that had already partially dispelled the blindness and unbelief of her own heart, might be granted to Marcellus, and lead him to a like faith. "When we meet," said she to herself, "I will repeat to him all that Mary has told me;—never will one word of her discourse pass from my memory;—or, if possible, I will lead him to her dwelling, and he shall hear the words of truth and wonder from her own lips. He has proved that his soul is open to conviction, by so quickly receiving the belief in one Almighty God; and doubtless he will as candidly and freely listen to the story of Jesus of Nazareth, and then surely he will see, and believe, and adore, as I feel myself constrained to do."
Had Naomi known all that Marcellus had not ventured to declare in his letter, how happy and how thankful would she have been!—for he had already advanced beyond herself in religious light and knowledge, and was a sincere, devoted, and enlightened Christian. The teacher to whom he owed his conversion was no other than Clement of Rome, the fellow-worker with St. Paul and, who, after having laboured in the church at Philippi, had removed to the capital, where in after times he succeeded to the bishopric, and lived until the third year of the reign of the Emperor Trajan.
Exterior of the Holy Sepulchre
CHAPTER VI.
The letter of Rufus conveyed the intelligence of Josephus's preservation, and his captivity in the Roman camp, and Zadok hastened to communicate it to the chief men of the city. The news spread rapidly through Jerusalem, and as rapidly the sorrow that had been felt and shown on account of his supposed death was changed into the fiercest indignation at his thus consenting to survive his heroic countrymen. Some called him a dastardly coward, who had feared to meet an honourable death, while others execrated his name as a traitor; and a fierce desire to wreak their vengeance on the apostate was now added to the other motives for resistance to the Romans. They longed to see Vespasian's standards approach their walls, in the full conviction that no power would resist the fury of their sally on the foe, and that all their calamities and reverses would be obliterated in the blood of their enemies.
But Vespasian did not yet give them the opportunity which they so madly desired. What were his motives for not pursuing his victorious way to Jerusalem at that time is uncertain; but so it was, that he turned aside and left the rebels in the capital to exercise their fury on themselves, and thus to weaken their own powers. The Roman general visited Agrippa at Cæsarea, on the sea-coast, and then passed to Cæsarea Philippi in the north of Galilee, where he allowed his army to rest and refresh themselves for twenty days.
He then proceeded to quell the symptoms of insurrection which had been displayed in Tiberias and Tarichea, two cities on the Lake of Genesareth that belonged to King Agrippa, but seemed little disposed to unite with him in his attachment to the Roman party. Tiberias soon surrendered, but a body of insurgents left the city, and took refuge in Tarichea, which had been carefully fortified by Josephus. The Roman army pitched their camp beneath the walls, and commenced their preparations for a siege; and while their works were advancing, a reinforcement of young recruits arrived from Rome, and joined the legions already assembled. Among these recruits was Marcellus, who was received with the warmest affection by his father, and through his interest was soon enrolled among the troops under the special command of Titus. Before he was allowed to take his place among his future comrades, an oath was administered to him, according to the military custom of the Romans, with every circumstance of solemnity. He was required to swear that he would never desert his standard, that he would submit his own will to the commands of his leaders, and that he would sacrifice his life for the safety of the emperor or the empire. This ceremony being performed, his arms were presented to him, and he became one of the redoubted band of cavalry so nobly led by the gallant Titus. The arms of attack and defence of the cavalry consisted of a coat of mail, and light boots and helmet; an oblong shield was fastened on the left arm, while the right hand carried a long javelin, and a sharp broadsword hung from the girdle. The foot soldiers were very differently accoutred, having an open helmet with a lofty crest, a breastplate of iron, and greaves of the same metal on their legs. A shield or buckler, four feet long and two feet and a-half wide, was carried on the left arm, and was capable of covering the whole person, when the troops knelt to receive the charge of their enemies. It was composed of a frame of light wood, on which was stretched a bull's-hide, and strengthened with plates of brass. Their offensive arms were powerful and various, consisting of a light spear for thrusting, and also pilium, or ponderous javelin, six feet long, and terminating in a steel point of the length of eighteen inches. This was thrown from a distance of ten or twelve yards; and such were its force and weight when cast by the practised hand of a veteran legionary, that neither shield nor corslet could resist it. After the pilium had been thrown, the soldier drew his short, double-edged sword, and rushed forward to the closer and yet more deadly conflict that was carried on hand to hand.
For a few days the operations of the besieging army continued undisturbed, and Marcellus was not called to prove his own courage and discipline, or the temper of his polished and unsullied arms. He therefore employed this brief period of leisure in rambling along the shores of the beautiful lake, as far as he could do so with safety. It was a lovely spot, and even to a common observer could not fail to be full of interest. The blue waters stretched before him, calm and transparent beneath the warm beams of an eastern sun, and the shores were crowded with rich and populous towns, whose terraced roofs and lofty towers were seen rising above the luxuriant groves and orchards that clothed the whole of that fertile district. The graceful palm, the dark olive, and the spreading fig-tree fringed the very margin of the lake, and were reflected on its smooth surface as on a mirror; while every port was animated with vessels preparing to assist the Taricheans in the defence of their city, or in case of a defeat to carry them off to the other side of the lake. A great part of the town was washed by the waters, and thus protected from the assault of the Romans, and a strong wall was carried round on every other side. Close to this wall the camp of Vespasian was pitched, and the white tents and glittering banners glanced gaily in the sunshine. Marcellus wandered in the shade of a grove of palms, and looked with admiration and emotion on the scene before him; but it was not the natural beauty of the landscape which chiefly excited his feelings, nor was it the animating view of military preparations or the thoughts of military glory that now filled the heart of the young soldier. No, his soul was absorbed in thoughts of days gone by, and his imagination pictured to him the scenes that had once been witnessed on the shores of that now tranquil lake. His fancy once again peopled the grove in which he stood with a multitude of Galilean peasants and rude fishermen, with men, women, and children, all hushed in silence, and listening with deep attention to the words of one individual who stood in the midst of them, and on whom every eye was turned. No rays of visible glory shone round the head of the speaker—no heavenly light illuminated his features—his form was as that of other men; and yet, oh how different! There was a calm majesty in his person, and an expression of godlike mercy and compassion in his mild and dignified countenance, that separated him immeasurably from all the human beings that surrounded him. And from his lips proceeded such gracious, such piercing words of instruction, of reproof, of love, and of pity, that Marcellus awoke from his deep reverie, exclaiming, "Truly never man spoke like this man! O blessed Jesus! would that I had seen thy day on earth, and had lived a humble fisherman on these shores, that I might have heard thy voice, and followed thy steps, and ministered to thee and died with thee!"
So thought and so felt the ardent young convert; and so have thought and felt many a sincere Christian, while recalling to his mind the days when his Saviour walked upon the earth, and marvelling at the unbelief and hardness of heart, and faithless conduct of those who beheld his miracles and heard his instructions; yes, even of those chosen few who were privileged to be his followers and his friends. But "let him that thinketh he standeth, take heed lest he fall." Had we been brought up in the errors and prejudices of the Jews in those days, we too might have rejected and disbelieved the Messiah in his poverty and humility; and let us beware that with all the light of the Gospel, and all the advantages of a Christian education, we do not practically reject the Saviour, and in our lives deny him. Let us ask of him strength to cleave to him through all temptations and all trials, and faith to believe in him, though as yet we see not his face; remembering his own words of encouragement, "Blessed are they who have not seen, and yet have believed."
Marcellus lingered long in the shady grove. Before he left Rome he had been presented by his beloved teacher, Clement, with a small copy of the Gospel of St. Matthew; and this treasure he always carried about him, and eagerly sought every opportunity of studying it, when he could do so unobserved. He now drew it forth, and unrolled the long and narrow strip of parchment on which it was inscribed. It was written in Hebrew, but his long residence in Jerusalem, and his constant intercourse with the family of Zadok, had made him familiar with that language, and he read with interest and delight until the shades of evening warned him to return to his father's tent.
"Ah," thought he, "if Naomi and Claudia were but with me, here in the scene of the miracles and the preaching of Him whom now they despise, how would I read to them the words of his own mouth, and how would I endeavour to repeat to them all that I heard from my venerable friend at Rome, and to touch their hearts and convince their minds with the narratives, the arguments, and the entreaties that he employed to remove the thick cloud of ignorance and prejudice in which I was enveloped, and to bless me with the light of the Gospel of Christ! Naomi at least worships the one Almighty and true God, though in error and in darkness; but my poor Claudia, she, alas! is yet in idolatry, May the Lord Jehovah give power and strength to the words of her friend, and bring her to the knowledge of Himself, and so prepare her to receive the truths of Christianity! And my father, too, shall he live and die in his idolatry? God forbid! Alas, alas, my dear kind mother is gone beyond the reach of human teaching. She is in that world where no doubts or uncertainties remain; and though she died in ignorance and unbelief, yet surely it was only because the truth was never revealed to her. Her heart was pious and humble; she sought for God, and found him not, because she was surrounded with the gross darkness of idolatry; and surely He who died for all hath wiped away her sins and redeemed her soul, although she knew Him not."
Marcellus had fondly loved his mother, and her death had been embittered to him by the reflection that she died a heathen; and now he sought to assuage his grief by dwelling on the mercy of his God and Saviour, and trusting that as so "little had been given to her, much would not be required." This is a hope which we have reason confidently to indulge; for we are taught that the mercy of the Lord is infinite towards those who act up to the light that is given to them, and thus "having no law, are a law unto themselves."
Full of such reflections, Marcellus entered the camp, and passed along the lines of tents that formed broad and straight streets, thickly peopled with soldiers and the numerous followers of the army. In his father's tent he found Javan, whom he had not seen since his arrival at Tarichea. Though they had lived so much together in the days of their childhood and early youth, the great dissimilarity in their dispositions had prevented them from forming any friendship; and Marcellus could not but recall the numerous instances of unkind and arbitrary conduct that had so warmly roused his indignation against Javan in former days, and produced sharp altercation between them. But now he met him as a prisoner, humbled, though unchanged, and his newly acquired Christian principles taught him to forgive his enemy, and to comfort him in his distress. And then he was the brother of Naomi, though most unworthy to be so nearly connected to one so amiable, and generous, and lovely; and therefore the young Roman met him with an open kindness of manner that somewhat surprised the crafty and suspicious Javan.
It was however his interest to conciliate Marcellus, and he received him with an appearance of cordiality, and entered with him and Rufus into a long and interesting conversation upon their friends in Jerusalem, and the prospects of the capital being soon subjected to a siege, unless the rulers consented to a submission. Captivity had not subdued the spirit of Javan, and all his fierceness broke forth at such a suggestion. Death in its worst form, would, he declared, be far preferable to such a degradation; but while he made the assertion, his hearers remembered how he and his general had so lately consented to purchase their lives at the expense of their liberties, and Rufus could not quite conceal the smile that curled his lip while he listened to such bold professions. Javan saw and understood the smile, and his heart was filled with rage; and he inwardly vowed to be revenged when once more at liberty, and in a situation to encounter his benefactor with arms in his hand.
Marcellus saw but little of him for some time after this meeting, for his time and attention were soon occupied by the active proceedings of the siege. A sudden and vigorous sally was made by the fugitive Tiberians who had taken refuge in the city, upon a point where the military works were rapidly advancing; they dispersed the workmen and destroyed their labours; and when the troops advanced in strong array against them, they fled back and escaped without any loss of life, A large party of them took refuge in the vessels that lay in their port, being unable to reach the gate from whence they had come forth; and then they pushed off into the lake, and cast anchor in a regular line, within reach of the missiles of their enemies, and commenced a battle, which terminated without any decisive effect.
The next day Marcellus was summoned to go forth with six hundred of his comrades to disperse a large body of Galileans, who were assembled in a plain before the city. When Titus, who commanded this troop of horse, arrived within sight of the insurgents, he perceived that their numbers were so immense, that he thought it necessary to demand further succours, and sent a messenger to his father for that purpose; but before the reinforcement could reach him, he resolved to charge the enemy. He made a short and spirited address to his men, and exhorted them not to shrink from encountering the multitude before them, but to advance boldly and secure the victory before their fellow-soldiers arrived to share the glory. He then placed himself at their head and prepared to lead them on, when four hundred horse appeared on the field, sent by Vespasian to strengthen his forces. His men were rather disposed to be angry than to rejoice at this arrival, so eager were they to uphold their character for bravery by meeting the enemy unsupported. Titus led the attack, and at first met with a firm resistance; but the Jews could not stand against the long spears of the cavalry, and overpowered by the weight of the horses and the force of the charge, they fled in confusion towards the city. The cavalry endeavoured to cut off their retreat, and the havoc which they made among the fugitives was dreadful, though numbers of them escaped and rushed in at the gates.
The inhabitants saw that there was no hope of their resisting the foe, and desirous of preserving their lives and property, they proposed a surrender of the town; but the Tiberians and other strangers steadily refused to comply with this desire. The dissension became loud and tumultuous, and Titus hearing the noise and confusion within the walls, cried out to his men to seize the opportunity of making a vigorous attack, while the attention of the besieged was distracted by civil discord. He leaped upon his horse, and dashing into the lake, entered the city where it was undefended by the strong wall that enclosed it on all other sides. Numbers of his troops followed him; and such was the consternation of the besieged at this sudden and unexpected entrance, that they remained as if stupified, and attempted no resistance. The insurgents and many others sought to save themselves by rushing to the lake, but they met the Romans pouring into the city, and were slain before they could regain the streets.
When Titus ascertained that the chiefs of the rebel party were slain, he commanded his soldiers to cease from carnage; but he sent to inform his father that numbers of the inhabitants had escaped in boats, and had pushed out to sea beyond the reach of the archers. Vespasian immediately had several vessels prepared, and embarked a detachment of troops to pursue the fugitives to the middle of the lake. The light boats of the poor Galileans could offer no resistance to the Roman vessels, and they could only row swiftly round them, and endeavour to annoy the legionaries by throwing stones and darts among them, which merely served to irritate their pursuers. The shores were lined with hostile troops; and if they attempted to take refuge in some creek or rocky inlet, they were met by fierce enemies, or followed by the Roman barks, and pierced by their long spears, as they stood above them on their lofty decks. Many of the boats were crushed by the larger vessels, and when the drowning crew rose above the water, they were transfixed by the arrows and lances of their infuriated foes. The surface of the lake, that so lately sparkled in peaceful beauty, was broken with forms of death and struggles of agony; its blue waters were tinged with blood, and for several days a corrupt vapour rose over its whole extent, bearing fearful witness to the multitude of slaughtered human beings that were concealed beneath. The verdant shores were scattered over with disfigured and unburied corpses, swollen and decaying beneath the burning sun; and the Romans themselves loathed to look upon the dreadful work of their own hands. Marcellus was not yet inured to scenes of cruelty and blood; and his heart sickened when he beheld the smiling, and in his eyes sacred, shores of the Galilean sea thus polluted with the remains of such ruthless barbarity.
For the cruelty of this massacre Vespasian may not be charged; but a blot remains upon his name for one action which succeeded it, and never can it be effaced by his glory in after days. Numbers of strangers had been taken captive by the Romans at the conquest of Tarichea, and as they were looked upon as the most determined rebels, they were kept distinct from the other prisoners. A tribunal was erected in the city, and the general proceeded to pass judgment on these offenders against the majesty of Rome. Instigated by some of his officers, he resolved on putting all these unfortunate strangers to death, lest, having no homes, they should wander through the country exciting riot and rebellion. But he feared to execute his barbarous decree in the streets of Tarichea, nor did he choose to expose to the whole city his cruel violation of the promise that had been given to these unfortunate men when they surrendered. He therefore ordered them to retire from the city, but only by the way that led to Tiberias. Hitherto the word of the Romans had been looked upon as inviolable, and the wretched wanderers proceeded forth by the route which was commanded them. But they found the road guarded and blockaded on every side, and they could not proceed beyond the suburbs. Vespasian himself pursued them into the Stadium, and there twelve hundred of the aged and helpless were slain in cold blood; and six thousand, who were considered most fit for work, were reserved to be sent to Nero, and to be employed in labouring at some of his wild schemes; while thirty thousand were sold as slaves, besides a number that were presented to Agrippa.
Doubtless multitudes of these unhappy creatures were ruffians and vagabonds, whose object was to excite war and commotion in order that they might escape the due punishment of their crimes; but no considerations of this nature can palliate the cruelty and falsehood of Vespasian.
Many of the Galilean towns laid down their arms and opened their gates to the Romans, dismayed at the fearful example that had been set before them; and only Gamala, Gischala, and Itabyrium, with a few smaller towns, continued to hold out a defiance. Gamala was even considered a stronger fortress than Jotapata; and proud of its situation, the inhabitants refused to submit to the conqueror. But after a long and terrible siege it fell, on the 23rd of September, A.D. 67, and every inhabitant was slain, except two sisters of Philip, Agrippa's general; and they contrived to hide themselves from the cruel visitors. We will not any longer dwell on the horrible scenes of carnage that took place. To escape the swords of the Romans, many hundreds of men threw their wives and children down the precipices, and then dashed after them to swift and certain destruction.
Itabyrium had fallen, and Gischala, Jamnia, and Azotus, alone remained in arms. Terrified by the fate of the neighbouring towns, the inhabitants would have submitted, but a strong faction within the walls, headed by John the son of Levi (better known as John of Gischala), prevented them from capitulating; and Titus was sent against the city at the head of a thousand horse. He saw that he might easily take it by assault, but he was weary of bloodshed, and probably also was aware of the peaceful disposition of the inhabitants, and he offered them terms if they would surrender. The wily John prevented the people from approaching the walls, which were manned by his own party, and he himself replied to the message of Titus. He affected great moderation and perfect acquiescence to the proposed terms; but stated that the day being the sabbath, the Jews could not proceed to comply with them without violating their most sacred laws; and therefore he begged for a delay. Titus complied with this apparently reasonable request, and even withdrew his troops to the town of Cydoessa, at a little distance.
John perceived that his artifice had succeeded; and at midnight he stole out of the city with all his band of armed followers, and a multitude of others, with their families and property, who had resolved on flying to Jerusalem. But soon the strength of the women and children began to fail, and they could follow no longer. The men abandoned them, and proceeded rapidly, leaving those who should have been their first care to perish unheeded and alone. The hard-hearted John urged his men to greater speed; and the miserable women sat down with their little ones to die in darkness and despair, while they listened to the departing footsteps of their cruel husbands and fathers, as the sounds died away in the increasing distance.
Titus appeared at the gates of the city the following day, to claim the performance of the terms that had been agreed upon; and the inhabitants who remained within the walls gladly threw them open, and delivered themselves up with their families into the hands of the conquerors. When he learned the treachery of John, he immediately sent a troop of horse to overtake him, but he had escaped beyond their reach, and they returned to Gischala, bringing with them three thousand women and children, and having slain six thousand of the weary fugitives who had slackened their pace, and were separated from their selfish leader and his robber band. The conduct of Titus was marked with clemency and moderation towards the captured city: he merely threw down a portion of the wall, and left a garrison in the place to keep possession. Shortly after the surrender of Gischala, Jamnia and Azotus also followed its example, and received Roman garrisons; when the season being advanced, Vespasian closed the campaign, and retired to Cæsarea with his army.
Sculpture on the Arch of Titus
CHAPTER VII.
The subjugation of Galilee had hitherto employed the whole of Vespasian's army; and such had been the courage and obstinacy displayed by the Jews, that it had cost the Romans much labour and pains to subdue the rebellious province. The leaders of the nation in Jerusalem had sent no forces to assist their Galilean brethren, nor had they used any other means for the relief of the besieged places. All their time and all their strength were wasted in violent civil dissensions, and furious struggles for power and authority in the metropolis. Perhaps also they hoped that the patience of the Romans would be exhausted, by the long continuance of the war in Galilee, and by the time and labour that were required to reduce one rebellious town after another; and that they would at length depart, and leave Jerusalem to its assumed independence. But far better would it have been if they had employed the time that was allowed them in preparing for the part which they ultimately had to perform; and if instead of admitting John of Gischala and his unprincipled followers into the city, they had sought to compose the dissensions that already existed, and to unite under one chief, for the general protection and safety.
But the fame of John had reached their ears, and the fact that he had been the rival and the enemy of the now despised Josephus, only raised him in the estimation of the people. As soon as it was known that he was approaching the city, multitudes flocked out to meet and welcome him. The exhausted and breathless condition of the men and their horses too plainly told that they had travelled far and fast; but the deceitful John assured the inquiring populace that they had not fled from necessity or fear, but that they were unwilling to spend their strength and courage in the cause of meaner towns, and had come to shed their blood in the defence of the capital. This reply, however, did not satisfy all who heard it; and, from the evident confusion and discomfiture of the fugitives, and the dreadful details of massacre and ruin which they received from some of the men, they felt convinced that they had fled to save their lives from the Roman vengeance, and foreboded the fate that probably awaited themselves. John was a man of subtle and insinuating manner, and he employed his eloquence and his artifice successfully in persuading the people of Jerusalem that the Roman power was already so broken, and their troops so wearied and dispirited, that they would never venture to enter on the siege of such a formidable place as their beloved city.
The young and daring listened and applauded with loud shouts of approbation, but the old men doubted and feared for the future. The party of John was increased by numbers of fresh adherents, and the city became more than ever the scene of discord and violence. One faction was for war, another for peace; and the conflicting opinions distracted the public councils, and divided even private families into fierce and opposing parties. Every individual who had power or wealth sufficient, gathered around himself a band of adherents; and these lawless companies overspread the neighbouring country, insulting, robbing, and murdering the unoffending peasantry, who refused to join them in their crimes and violence. Multitudes of the inhabitants of the villages, believing that they could have nothing worse to fear from the Romans than what they suffered from their own countrymen, fled to the garrison towns; but the Romans either rejoiced in the civil discord and mutual destruction, or considered that they had no concern in their quarrels, and they afforded the sufferers but little protection.
At length a powerful and numerous body of these marauders contrived to get into Jerusalem, and establish themselves permanently in the Holy City. They were not expelled or opposed; for the warlike party hoped by the accession of these bold and daring men, to gain strength for the defence of the metropolis. But they only added to the misery and tumult that already reigned within the walls; and with the multitude of persons who flocked from the neighbouring towns and villages, to take refuge in Jerusalem, they greatly hastened the consumption of provisions, which ought to have been reserved for a time of need, and famine began to be felt among other evils and woes.
The wise and excellent Zadok, with a few of his friends who were not actuated by avarice, ambition, or revenge, strove to stem the torrent of sedition and violence, and preserve order and decorum among the populace. But what could the efforts of a few individuals, however well-directed, effect against the influence of bribery, and passion, and intemperance, and licensed crime? Beyond their own families and immediate dependents, their counsels and warnings were unheeded and despised: and robberies, burglaries, and assassinations took place in the open day in the streets of Jerusalem. The robbers seized on Antipas, a man of royal blood, who had the charge of the public treasures, and cast him into prison. The next victims were Saphias and Levias, two members of the Herodian family, and many others of noble rank shared the same fate.
The people saw and feared; but so long as they were themselves unmolested, they took no measures to stay the growing evils. Emboldened by their present impunity, the ruffians proceeded to greater atrocities, and unwilling either to release their prisoners, or to keep them any longer captive, they sent ten of their party with drawn swords into the prison, who speedily massacred the unfortunate captives. At length they dared to invade the sacred temple, and insult the majesty of Heaven with their impieties: the very holy of holies was entered and polluted by the feet of the murderers; and then the indignation of the populace broke forth. Ananus, the eldest of the chief priests, was the acknowledged leader of the party opposed to the robbers. He was a man of wisdom and moderation, but he now incited the people to resistance; and the band of Zealots fled to the temple, which they made their head-quarters, and turned into a garrison. That holy and beautiful house of God, the object of the fondest veneration and pride to all the inhabitants of Jerusalem, was now the scene of warlike preparation and boisterous intemperance; and instead of hymns of prayer and praise, and the harmony of musical instruments, its marble and gilded walls re-echoed with the shouts and songs of the drunkards, or the clash of arms.
The Zealots even presumed to elect a high-priest by lot, and proclaimed the deposition of Matthias, who had a rightful claim to that dignity. The people rose unanimously at this sacrilegious act; and even those of the priests who had hitherto sought to preserve peace, now exhorted them to throw off the yoke of the Zealots. Zadok joined with Ananus and Joseph, and others, and both in public and private harangued the infuriated populace.
An assembly was convened, and Ananus, in a long and eloquent speech, pointed out to his hearers the state of degradation to which they had allowed themselves to be reduced, far more disgraceful than if they had submitted to the power of the Romans; and as he spoke, he turned his tearful eyes towards the violated temple, and reproached the people with abandoning it into the hands of robbers. He was listened to with deep attention, and at the close of his harangue the crowd around him demanded to be led instantly to the rescue of the temple. The spies of the Zealot party who were among the multitude, gave them instant intelligence of the feeling which was excited against them, and while Ananus and Zadok were ordering their forces, a band of these robbers fell upon them. The battle raged with fury; numbers were slain on both sides, and their bodies carried off. Those of the Zealots who fell were borne back to the temple, and the polished marble pavement was stained and polluted with their blood. The populace pressed on, and drove the Zealots back into the temple, following them within the sacred walls with furious cries. The robbers passed the outer court, and secured the gates of the next enclosure against their pursuers; and Ananus would not allow his followers to press their advantage, and assault the gates, for he feared to commit violence in so holy a spot, or to take his people into that court which was yet polluted with slaughter and crime. He therefore retired, leaving six thousand men in the cloisters, to keep guard and watch the motions of the robbers.
The subtle John of Gischala had hitherto professed to support the cause of Ananus, but all the while he maintained a correspondence with the adverse party; and to prevent his double dealing from being suspected, he made such vehement protestations of fidelity to Ananus, and so readily took an oath of obedience and devotion, that the priests and their party were entirely deceived, and admitted him into their most secret councils, and even deputed him to go to the temple, and endeavour to bring their enemies to terms.
The traitor undertook the mission; but no sooner was he within the temple walls, than he threw off the mask, and addressed the robber crew as if he had taken an oath to support them, and not to oppose them. He told them that he had incurred serious dangers in the endeavour to befriend them; that schemes were now being concerted for delivering the city up to the Romans: and that their destruction was inevitable, as Ananus had resolved to get into the temple, either under the pretence of performing worship, or else by main force; and he warned them that if they did not obtain some succour speedily, they would be at the mercy of the enraged populace. The leaders of the Zealots were Eleazer, the old enemy of Ananus, and Zacharias, the son of Phalea. They readily believed that vengeance would be taken on them by the opposing party; and instantly adopting the crafty suggestions of John, they despatched swift messengers to the Idumeans, to demand their assistance.
These fierce and uncivilized people were incorporated with the Jews as one nation; but they retained the love of adventure which belonged to their Arab blood, and the application of the Zealots was received with wild cries of joy. They hastily assembled, and formed themselves into a regular army of twenty thousand men, under the command of James and John the sons of Lofas, Simon the son of Cathlas, and Phineas the son of Clusothas, This numerous and powerful body advanced immediately towards Jerusalem, proclaiming that they were marching to the relief of the capital.
Suddenly they appeared beneath the walls and demanded admittance. The gates were closed, and Jesus, one of the chief priests, was deputed by Ananus to expostulate with them. He proposed to them either to join with the inhabitants in punishing those who caused the present tumult, or to enter without arms and mediate between the contending parties; or else to depart again to their own homes, and leave Jerusalem to finish its own internal war. All these propositions were rudely refused by the Idumeans; and Simon the son of Cathlas, replied, that they came to protect the patriotic party against those who wished to sell them to the Romans, and they were resolved to accomplish this design. His words were received with loud shouts by the Idumeans, and Jesus returned to Ananus, discouraged and apprehensive.
Simon encamped before the gates, and thus the party of Ananus found themselves besieged by two separate forces. The Zealots could not communicate with their new allies, for they were closely shut up in the temple; and the Idumeans could gain no access to them. Their camp was inconvenient, and in an exposed situation; and many of them repented of their hasty march for as night drew on a fearful tempest gathered over the city, and broke with such violence as to strike terror into all who heard it; and every heart trembled in the conviction that it was a dreadful omen of coming destruction and woe. The rain fell in torrents, and was accompanied by terrific thunder and lightning, while the earth shook with the frequent vibrations of an earthquake. The Idumeans were exposed to the violence of the storm, with but little shelter, except their own broad shields, which they locked together over their heads, and thus obtained some protection from the heavy rain; while the Zealots looked forth from their elevated situation in the temple, anxious for the fate of their new allies, and eagerly sought some opportunity of rendering them assistance. Some of the most daring among them proposed to sally forth amid the darkness and tumult of the storm, force their way to the gates, and open them to admit their friends; trusting by the suddenness and fury of their assault, to overpower and scatter the guards who were placed in the outer court. But the more prudent objected strongly to this desperate measure, as they knew that the guards were more numerous than their own party, and also that the city walls and gates were closely watched, to prevent a surprise from the Idumeans. It was likewise the nightly custom of Ananus to pass up and down continually, and see that the sentinels were all at their posts, and he was now expected every moment.
On this one dreadful night, this necessary precaution was omitted. Perhaps Ananus trusted to the strength of the guard, which had been doubled since the arrival of the Idumeans; or perhaps from the violence of the tempest, he felt assured that no attack would be attempted at that time. Whatever were his motives, assuredly they were overruled by an all-directing Providence, and made instrumental in bringing about the destruction and massacre which were permitted that night for the chastisement of a rebellious people. The darkness was profound; the storm raged fearfully; and many of the guard stole away for rest and shelter. This negligence was discovered by the watchful Zealots; and seizing on the sacred instruments of the temple, they proceeded to wrench off the hinges of one of the gates, and thus to open to themselves a way into the streets. The whistling and roaring of the wind, and the loud claps of thunder, drowned the noise of their operations, and a strong party of them reached the walls of the city undiscovered. They immediately applied their saws and crowbars to the gate, near which the Idumeans were encamped, and quickly tore it open.
The Idumeans at first suspected that this was some artifice of Ananus, to draw them on to destruction and they retreated in terror; but soon the Zealots approached, and reassured them, offering to conduct them to victory and revenge; and had they instantly made an attack on the city, nothing could have prevented a fearful and general slaughter. But their guides persuaded them first to hasten to the temple, and rescue the remainder of their party ere the guard should be aroused; for if those who watched the gates were once secured, and the whole band of Zealots released, they were assured that the conquest of the city would soon be accomplished amid the darkness and confusion of night.
Meanwhile the Zealots in the temple were anxiously awaiting the result of their enterprise; and when they found that the Idumeans were entering the sacred enclosure, they boldly came forth and joined them, and then altogether falling on the guard, many of whom were buried in a profound sleep, they commenced a fearful slaughter. The guard at first gathered themselves together, and made head against their assailants; but when they found that the Idumeans were among their foes, they were convinced that the city was betrayed, and the greater part of them threw down their arms in a sudden panic. A few of the youngest and most courageous still maintained the conflict, and supported the attack of the Idumeans, while some of the older men escaped, and fled shrieking down the streets, awaking and alarming the slumbering inhabitants with an announcement of the dreadful calamity. They were answered by the screams and cries of women and children, sounding shrilly through the storm; while the wild shouts of the Idumeans and the Zealots came fearfully from the heights of Mount Moriah, and murky clouds gave forth their awful flashes and pealing thunders. No mercy was shown by the Idumeans to any of the guard who fell into their hands. In vain they appealed to the sanctity of the holy temple for protection; even its most sacred precincts were deluged with blood; and in despair many of the terrified men threw themselves headlong from the lofty rock on which the temple stood, and were dashed to pieces in the deep abyss below.
DEATH OF ANANUS.
The whole of the outer court was strewed with the dead and dying; and when daylight broke on this awful scene of carnage, eight thousand five hundred bodies were found heaped on this one spot.
But the pure light of day did not put an end to the deeds of darkness and of blood that disgraced it. The ruffian band broke into the city, slaying and pillaging on every side. Ananus—the wise, the patriotic Ananus, on whom rested the hopes of all the rational and well-disposed inhabitants—and Jesus the son of Gamala, were seized and put to death, and their bodies trampled under the feet of their murderers, who reproached them with being traitors to the nation. To such a height did they carry their barbarity, as to cast forth the mangled remains of these priestly men to be devoured by dogs and birds of prey, in defiance of the superstitious veneration which had ever been entertained by the Jews towards the bodies of the dead. Had Ananus lived, doubtless the affairs of Jerusalem might have terminated more favourably; but her time was come, and it pleased God to remove all obstacles to the fulfilment of his righteous decree. With the venerable Ananus expired all hopes of peace with the Romans, and all prospect of tranquillity in the city; and the Jewish historian dates the utter ruin of Jerusalem from the death of this deeply-regretted man.
Having exercised their cruelty on these distinguished persons, the Idumeans raged with uncontrollable fury among the rest of the inhabitants, and slew multitudes of the meaner sort like so many wild beasts; but the young men and the nobles they cast into prison, in the hope that they might be induced to join their party. Not one complied with their wishes, and though scourged and tortured they yet resolutely endured, until their tormentors put an end to their sufferings by death.
During the bloody scenes of this terrific night, of which we have given but a faint sketch, the family of Zadok were agitated by the deepest anxiety. A few days previous to the arrival of the Idumeans, Naomi had left the city with her uncle Amaziah, and his wife Judith, to reside for a short time with them in a beautiful country-house which they possessed near the village of Bethany. Her return was expected on that fatal day, when a host of barbarous enemies so suddenly and unexpectedly appeared before the walls of Jerusalem. The gates were immediately closed and strictly guarded, and orders were issued that no person should, on any pretence, be allowed either to pass in or out of the city. Zadok was hastily summoned to assist the council of Ananus; and in trembling anxiety did Salome, and Claudia, and the aged Deborah, remain seated on the housetop, looking out over the dense multitude of Idumeans beneath the walls, and straining their eyes in the direction in which they expected Naomi and her friends to approach. What might be their fate if they came within sight of the barbarous invaders?—and from the hollow situation in which the Idumeans were encamped, they could not be perceived by those descending the Mount of Olives, until they might be so near them as to render escape impossible.
In this emergency, what course could be pursued, and how would it be practicable to send intelligence to Amaziah of the alarming state of the city! Salome at length resolved to go herself to Ananus, and entreat his aid and counsel. The present state of suspense was not to be borne, and any danger was preferable to the chance of her lovely and beloved daughter falling into the hands of the barbarians. The dreadful thought inspired even the timid Salome with courage; and covering herself with a thick veil, she descended from the flat roof of her dwelling, and went forth into the crowded and tumultuous streets, followed by several armed servants, and accompanied by the faithful Deborah, who could not be persuaded to remain behind.
The way by which Salome had to pass to the house of Ananus was thronged with men, many of them armed, and all in a state of great excitement. The adverse parties which tore the city with their dissensions were not united by the common danger that now threatened them, and loud and angry were the voices that fell on the ears of the trembling Salome as she hastily pursued her way through the crowd, and expected every moment to be assailed by the rude hands of robbery and violence. Happily the minds of all men were so much occupied with the dangers that then menaced the city, that Salome and her little group of attendants passed unnoticed, and reached the lofty portico in front of dwelling of Ananus in safety. The marble stops were crowded with priests and elders, and the chief men of the city, who were hurrying to and fro, to execute the orders of Ananus, or to join in the deliberations that were going forward in the council-chamber. Salome was at first unheeded, and sought in vain to obtain admittance to the chief-priest; but at length she raised her veil to look around among the throng for some one with whom she was acquainted, and who would conduct her to Ananus. The first countenance that met her gaze was that of Zadok, who started with surprise and alarm at beholding his gentle and timid wife so far from her home, and exposed to the tumult and disorder of the excited populace.
He hastily approached her, and inquired what could have led her forth at such a time. And when Salome felt that she was leaning on the arm of her intrepid and high-minded husband her confidence returned, and she quickly told him the object that had brought her thither, and had made her almost forget her own danger in anxiety for the safety of Naomi. In the hurry and occupation of the last few hours, it had not occurred to Zadok that his daughter had appointed that day for her return to the city, and thus might be exposed to the peril of falling into the power of the Idumeans. But now his whole soul was filled with apprehension on her account; and, accompanied by Salome, he hastily entered the council-chamber, and entreated that he might be permitted to go out of the city by one of the gates the furthest removed from the Idumean camp, and endeavour to make his way by secret paths to the house of Amaziah, in the hope that he might be in time to warn him of the danger of approaching the city.
Ananus hesitated; he was most unwilling to be deprived of the council and the assistance of Zadok at a period of so much danger and anxiety; and he also dreaded his falling into the hands of the enemy, who would show no mercy to one who was well known to be his friend and adviser. But the perilous situation of Naomi and her relations moved him, and he demanded whether no other person of courage and fidelity could be found who would go on the errand, and who could be better spared than Zadok, in case it should be found impossible to return into the city. The mission was a dangerous one, and who could be found ready to undertake it? Zadok again requested that he might himself go forth, and promised at all risks to attempt a speedy return. At that moment Theophilus, the son of Amaziah, entered the apartment, and begged permission instantly to depart from the city and seek his father. He had been to the house of Zadok, and there Claudia had informed him of Salome's fears, and her errand to Ananus, and he had hurried after her to offer himself as the messenger.
Ananus gave his consent, and Salome saw the brave youth depart, with a feeling of joy that her husband was not exposed to the perils of the enterprise. Zadok then himself conducted her home, and immediately returned to the council; while his wife and Claudia again took their station among the flowering shrubs with which the roof was thickly planted, and from whence, unobserved by the crowds beneath them, they could perceive the movements of the multitudes both within and without the walls, and watch for the distant figure of Theophilus when he should pass over the highest part of the road to Bethany.
The day closed in, and darkness covered the scene with even greater suddenness than usual, for thick clouds had gathered over the sky, and the sun went down into a red and lurid horizon. Soon the rain fell heavily, and Salome and her young companion were forced to leave the housetop and take refuge in their apartment, where they passed the whole of that tremendous night in fear and watchfulness, listening to the warring elements without, and trembling when, amid the fury of the tempest, they heard the savage shouts of the Idumeans and the nearer cries of the fugitives from the temple.
Zadok had not returned to his home that night; at the close of the evening he had sent a messenger to inform his wife that the deliberations were still continued, but that before midnight he purposed going the rounds of the guard with Ananus, and would afterwards hasten back to his family. Midnight came, but then the storm raged furiously, and Salome hoped that Zadok was safe in the house of Ananus. As the hours passed slowly on, the terrors of that night increased, and Salome knew from the tumult and the shouts, that some fierce commotion was going on in the city. Her fears were strongly excited for Zadok, who being with Ananus, and well known to be a powerful supporter of his party, would be exposed to the vengeance of the Zealots, if they had broken forth from the temple.
Fervently did she implore the Divine protection to shield him from harm, while Claudia and Deborah joined their prayers to hers; and amid all their fears and anxiety, they could not but rejoice that Naomi at least was removed from this scene of terror, and, as they hoped, yet enjoying a temporary peace in her uncle's house.
When the day began to dawn, they looked forth into the street, and though their dwelling was near the walls, and situated at a considerable distance from the principal thoroughfares, where the work of carnage had been chiefly performed, yet numbers of human bodies were scattered on the ground—the mangled remains of those who had fled to this secluded part of the city for refuge, but had been pursued and murdered by their savage enemies. No living beings were to be seen in the desolate street, except a few lean and hungry dogs which had crept out to tear and devour the yet warm carcases that promised them an ample meal; but the din of war and cries of agony and fear resounded from the temple and the higher parts of the city. Salome's heart sickened, and she turned away: might not her noble, her beloved husband, be already as one of these lifeless corpses? In agony of mind she wept, and poured out her soul before the Lord.
Her attention was recalled by a loud exclamation of joy from Claudia. "Oh, Salome," she cried, "here is Theophilus. He is approaching the house, and doubtless he brings tidings of our dear Naomi." The affectionate girl ran swiftly down to the court; and unbarring the heavy gate that opened into the street, she even ventured several paces beyond the threshold in her eagerness to know the fate of her friend. Theophilus assured her that Naomi was safe; and then having carefully secured the gate, he followed her to the vestibule, where Salome met them, and there hastily told them the particulars of his expedition. He had narrowly escaped being taken by some scattered parties of the Idumeans, and had only saved himself by his swiftness in running, and his intimate knowledge of the paths through the groves and orchards by which he had to pass. He had happily succeeded in eluding his pursuers, but only just in time to prevent the cavalcade of Amaziah and his family from ascending the hill on the eastern side, and appearing in full view of the Idumean sentinels. His father had received no intelligence of the arrival of their army, and was returning with Judith and Naomi to the city, as he had appointed. On hearing the disastrous news, however, he immediately turned back, and hastened again to the house from which he had come. There he placed his wife and Naomi, in as great security as the circumstances would permit, and left all his servants well armed under the direction of his faithful steward Josiah, to protect them from any wandering bands of robbers, or Idumeans. Amaziah had then accompanied Theophilus back to the city, and in the darkness and tumult of the storm, which had become violent by the time they reached the walls, they had escaped the observation of the Idumeans, and passed safely to their own house. There they had remained until the shouts of the Zealots and their allies had aroused them to a knowledge of the distracted state of Jerusalem, and called them from the shelter of their home, to mingle in the tumult, and give their aid in opposing the massacres and pillage that were going forward.
Their efforts to reach Ananus had been in vain, for they found his dwelling entirely surrounded by a dense crowd of infuriated Zealots, crying loudly for his blood; and Amaziah had therefore again retired to his home, with a few of his friends, to seek some means of succouring the chief-priest and restoring order to the city; "While I," continued Theophilus, "have hastened to you, Salome, to satisfy your mind of the safety of your daughter, and to inquire whether my uncle is with you, for my father earnestly desires to confer with him."
"Alas!" cried Salome, "Zadok has not appeared at home during the whole of this dreadful night. He was with Ananus when the storm commenced, and I have remained in the agony of suspense ever since. I know not whether he yet lives, or whether the ruffians who now rage through the city have destroyed the noblest, the wisest, the most virtuous man who dwelt within its walls. Oh, Theophilus! he is your father's only brother!—will you not endeavour to save him? or will you not at least seek for some intelligence of his fate, and let me know the worst? If he is slain—oh!—save his sacred form from the insults of the murderers. Bear it to me, and let me once more behold, though lifeless, that countenance which is dearer to me than all on earth beside. Take with you all the men of our household; we have many faithful servants, and they are well provided with arms. They will risk their lives to save their master, or to rescue his honoured remains from the sacrilegious hands of the Zealots. Go, summon the domestics, and sally forth. Lose not a moment, and the blessing of a breaking heart shall be with you."
Theophilus was deeply moved by the grief of Salome, and the danger of his uncle. He had seen the house of Ananus beset by the Zealots, and he knew that Zadok would find no mercy from them. He did not however add to the fears of Salome by expressing his own; but hastily complied with her entreaties, and set out, attended by all the servants except two or three, whom he charged to guard the gate, and on no account to open it until his return.
His absence was long. To Salome it appeared endless; and more than once she and Claudia ventured to the housetop and looked along the street, in the hope of seeing him return. Once the sound of coming footsteps made her heart beat violently, and she gazed out in hope and in fear; but it was only a party of wretched women and children flying down the street, and soon appeared their pursuers, with drawn swords reeking with blood, and gained rapidly on the miserable fugitives. Salome and Claudia retreated with a cry of horror. They saw not the massacre, but the shrieks that rose upon their ears told them but too plainly that the work of death was done. The ruffians turned towards their dwelling, and they heard them loudly demanding an entrance, and even striking at the gate with their swords. But it was too strong for their efforts, and they were already almost satiated with plunder and carnage. They retreated, and the trembling inmates heard them pass along the street, which echoed with their wild shouts and impious songs.
All Salome's resolutions and endurance were exhausted. Her naturally timid spirit had been roused to unusual excitement and energy; but these feelings had subsided, and she sank into a state of exhaustion, and almost of stupor. Had Zadok been by her side, she would have felt some confidence, but his absence and her apprehensions for his safety were more than she could bear. Even if Naomi had been with her she would have been some support. Her sanguine temper and courageous spirit would have suggested fresh hope and inspired fresh confidence; but Claudia was unable to administer comfort which she did not feel, or to combat terrors that filled her own breast also.
Meanwhile Theophilus and his band of armed servants hurried along the streets towards the house of Ananus. Every dwelling which they passed appeared to be deserted; for where the inhabitants had not either been slain, or fled to some cave or hiding-place for refuge, they had carefully closed and barricadoed every gate and entrance to their houses, and remained concealed within, expecting the arrival of the Zealots and Idumeans, to rob, to murder, and to destroy. The pavements were strewed with human bodies, and stained with gore: it seemed a "city of the dead;" but the peacefulness of death was not there—the tumult had not ceased. The murderers had only gone further in quest of other victims, and richer plunder; and the sounds of conflict and slaughter were audible in the distance.
Theophilus reached the splendid dwelling of Ananus. The crowd had abandoned it; and the open gates and scattered wreck of costly furniture told that the work of destruction was completed, and that the venerable priest no longer dwelt in his marble halls. It was evident that a severe contest had been maintained on the grand flight of steps leading to the entrance; for there the dead bodies of the combatants lay heaped together; and beneath the dreadful burden Theophilus beheld the robe of Zadok. It was a garment of fringes, the work of Naomi's hands, and he well remembered to have seen his uncle attired in it when he met him the previous evening in the council-chamber. His worst fears were then realized; and the noble Zadok had fallen, probably in the defence of his friend and chieftain; and all that he could now do for the wretched Salome, would be to carry home the lifeless body of her husband, and thus afford her the melancholy satisfaction of bedewing it with her tears, and rendering to the honoured clay the holy rites of sepulture, so sacred to the heart of a Jew. No sooner did the servants perceive the body of their master, than they broke forth into loud cries of grief and rage, and demanded vengeance with all the vehemence of their national character; but Theophilus commanded them to be silent, and to lose no time in disengaging the corpse from its present situation, and bearing it away; for he feared that their outcries might attract the attention of the Idumeans, who were prowling all over the city, and that their object might then be frustrated. Hastily the men obeyed him; and having removed the mangled carcases that lay heavily above the body of Zadok, they raised it from the ground, and carried it into the vestibule, that they might procure a couch on which to transport it home.
They were startled on entering by a rustling sound, as of some person escaping from the vestibule; and on following the steps of the fugitive, they overtook one of the domestics of Ananus, who had escaped the notice of the murderers, and was anxiously watching for an opportunity to flee from the palace unobserved, when he saw a party of armed men enter the house, and concluded that they belonged to the Zealot party. The eight of Theophilus, who was well known to him, restored his courage; and he immediately directed his attendants where to procure a couch, on which the body was immediately laid, and a richly embroidered curtain, which had been dropped by the plunderers, was thrown over it. The servants placed their long spears beneath the couch, and in this manner carried it forth into the street and proceeded, with the greatest possible expedition towards their home. They were within a few paces of the gate, when a party of drunken Idumeans sallied out of a neighbouring house loaded with spoil, and placing themselves before the melancholy cavalcade, demanded what they were thus secretly carrying away? On being informed that it was merely the body of a friend, they tauntingly replied, that dead bodies were now too plentiful to be worth so much trouble, and insisted on uncovering the corpse. To avoid a struggle, Theophilus raised the lower end of the covering, and when the ruffians saw that it was really a human body, they uttered a shout of derision, and one of them wantonly cast a javelin at the corpse, which pierced the arm, and the blood flowed profusely over the damask curtain. The Idumeans knew not the rank of Theophilus, nor were they aware that it was the body of Zadok, the friend of Ananus, that was being carried to its rest, otherwise they would probably have attempted to wrest it from the attendants; but satisfied with insulting it, they went on their way to seek more profitable adventures.
At the voice of Theophilus, the servants left on guard unclosed the massy gates, and uttered a cry of despair when they beheld the bier. The cry reached Salome's ears, and roused her to animation. She rose to rush forward and ascertain the cause, but her trembling limbs refused to support her, and she sank again into her seat, with a feeble sign to Claudia to hasten to the court. Claudia flew along the gallery, and met the procession at the entrance of the hall. The whole sad truth rushed upon her mind, and in deep grief she returned to her afflicted friend. Pale and speechless she appeared before Salome, and when she met her inquiring gaze, she replied only by a burst of tears. Salome saw that all hope was over, and a deep swoon deprived her for a time of the consciousness of her bereavement.
When at length she recovered, she desired instantly to be led to the spot where her husband was laid; and leaning on Claudia and her faithful Deborah, she entered the hall. In the centre of the marble pavement stood the funeral couch, yet covered with embroidered drapery. With a desperate effort Salome approached, and raising the drapery, she sunk upon her knees with a passionate exclamation of despair, to gaze upon the beloved but motionless countenance. Oh what words shall tell her feelings when she heard a struggling sigh from Zadok's lips, and saw those eyes which she believed to be closed for ever, slowly open, and fix upon her face a look of wonder and of love! She thought her brain was wandering, and covered her eyes that she might not cheat her heart with vain delusions. But then the voice of Zadok came upon her ear as if it had been the voice of an angel, and though weak and faltering, she could not doubt those tones. The ecstasy, the gratitude, the wonder, that filled and overpowered her heart, may not be described by any human pen. Those who know what it is to recover once again a being dearer far to them than their own life, alone can know what Salome felt.
Restoratives were quickly procured, and in a short time Zadok was sufficiently recovered to relate the events which had occurred, previous to the time when he was struck to the earth by a heavy blow from the butt of a broken spear; and ere his senses returned, he must have been buried beneath the bodies that rapidly fell around him. Ananus had that night, as we have seen, omitted to go his usual rounds to inspect the guard, but had continued in deep consultation with the counsellors until long after midnight. Their deliberations were at length interrupted by a sudden and violent uproar, and on going to the entrance to discover the cause, they saw by the light of torches, that the street was filled with armed men. A shout, as if from a host of demons, greeted the appearance of the priests and elders, and a furious rush was made by the Zealots up the flight of steps, on the summit of which they were standing. Vain was it to address them; and vain would it have been to fly. A struggle for life or death was maintained a few moments, but overpowered by numbers, they quickly fell. Zadok knew not the fate of Ananus: it was in warding off a blow aimed at the head of his chief that he had been struck to the earth, and remained insensible to the conclusion of the tragic scene.
The servant of Ananus, who had accompanied Theophilus to Zadok's house, now informed him that the aged priest had been seized and slain, and that with him was murdered Jesus, the son of Gamala. Their bodies were dragged away by the savage troop, and he feared must have been subject to the grossest indignities.
Zadok groaned when he heard that Ananus had fallen. He loved and respected him as a friend; and in him alone had he placed any confidence, as the means of restoring peace to his distracted country. But his present weakness prevented him from taking any active measures, and forced him to think of his own preservation and recovery. The wound which had been so cruelly inflicted by the Idumean, had in fact been the cause of his restoration to life; for the blood had flowed freely, and combined with the rapid motion and fresh air, had removed the stupor consequent on the blow he had received, and which might doubtless have ended in death had not circulation been restored by the javelin of the robber.
It was a very happy circumstance that the fall of Zadok had been seen by many of the Zealots, and that the belief of his death became general, otherwise his well-known character would have exposed him and his family to destruction. And as his weakness compelled him, though most unwillingly, to remain idle within his own walls, no inquiries were made about him; and his house was left unmolested, except by wandering bands of robbers, who found the gates too strong for their efforts. Amaziah, who had passed that night of horror in active exertions to assist the unoffending inhabitants, repaired to his brother's house, when he found he could no longer be of service in the contest, and that the Zealots were complete masters of the city. He had heard and believed that Zadok was slain, and his joy was great at finding his brother alive, when he had only hoped to be a support and protection to his widow. He only remained a few days with his brother, and then returned to his anxious wife, leaving Theophilus as a comfort to Salome and Claudia.
For many days the massacre continued, until at length the Zealots were weary of such indiscriminate slaughter, and affected to set up the forms of justice. They composed a Sanhedrim of seventy of the populace, and before this court they arraigned Zacharias, the son of Baruch, a man of worth and high character, and with no fault but that of being rich and patriotic. The Zealots thirsted for his wealth and his blood; and they accused him of holding correspondence with the Romans.
Zacharias boldly defended himself from their charges, and despairing of saving his life, he ridiculed his accusers, and set them at defiance, and even reproached them with their iniquity and injustice. The Zealots drew their swords, but ere they used them, they called on the judges to condemn the innocent victim. The Sanhedrim unanimously acquitted the prisoner, and declared that they would die with him rather than condemn him to death.
Then the fury of the Zealots broke forth, and two of them rushing forward, struck Zacharias dead, as he stood undaunted in the court of the holy temple. They then dragged the body along the pavement, and cast it into the abyss below. They beat the judges with their swords, and drove them out of the court with every indignity.
The Idumeans, now satiated with plunder and revenge, began to repent of the bloody work in which they were engaged, and declared that they had come to Jerusalem to defend the city against the Romans, and not to share in murder and rapine; and they announced their intention of abandoning the Zealots to themselves. Before they departed, however, they opened all the prisons, and released two thousand of the people, who immediately fled away and joined Simon the son of Gioras. The populace, relieved of the presence of the Idumeans, began to resume their confidence, and many ventured out in open daylight, to gather up the bodies of their friends for burial, or to cast over them a little earth where they lay, to protect them from the birds of prey and ravenous dogs. But the Zealots did not lay aside their power or their cruelty, with the departure of their allies; they continued their lawless iniquities, and every day fresh victims fell.
The state of the city was well known to Vespasian, and his friends besought him to march to the capital, and at once put an end to the war. But he preferred leaving it to its own inward distractions, which he was convinced would soon bring it to utter weakness; and he was encouraged in this opinion by the multitude of deserters who every day flocked to his camp; though some of these afterwards returned to Jerusalem of their own accord, that they might die in the holy city, so great was their attachment to the hallowed spot.
During all this confusion, John of Gischala pursued his ambitious schemes; and at length all the real authority and power was centred in him. The Zealots now formed two parties; one surrounded John as a despotic chief, the other composed a lawless democracy; and both vied with each other in cruelty and oppression towards the people. To add to the miseries of war, tyranny, and sedition, the Sicarii or Assassins, who had obtained possession of the fortress of Massada near the Dead Sea, now sallied out and surprised Engaddi, during the night of the passover (A.D. 68), and slew about seven hundred persons. Other bands collected in the neighbouring regions, and the whole country was filled with confusion and rapine.
Absalom's Tomb
CHAPTER VIII.
Far different to the scenes we have just described were those which Naomi was called to witness; and had not her mind been harassed with anxiety for her beloved parents and her young friend Claudia, she would have considered the days which she passed with her relatives, in their beautiful country residence, as the happiest of her life. It was not that the scenery around her was lovely, and the air was fresh and pure, in the elevated spot on which the house was situated; nor was it because Amaziah and Judith had always loved her as a daughter, and now treated her with the most affectionate kindness, that Naomi felt it was a blessed privilege to be under their peaceful roof. On the first evening of her arrival with her relatives at their country-house, Judith had proposed to her that they should walk to Bethany; and to the surprise of Naomi, they no sooner entered the village than her aunt proceeded to the cottage where Mary dwelt.
The aged Christian was alone; but solitude was not sad to her, for the bright prospects of futurity, and the blessed remembrances of the past, shed a heavenly light over her lonely and humble abode. She rose to meet her visitors with a smile of cheerful welcome; and Naomi was startled and almost terrified when she saluted her, in the hearing of her aunt, with her accustomed benediction, "The blessing of our Lord and Saviour be upon you, my child."
Judith saw what was passing in her mind, and hastened to remove her apprehensions. She took her hand, and said, "I have brought you here, my dear Naomi, that in the presence of our venerable friend I may acknowledge to you that I also am an unworthy disciple of that Lord and Saviour whose name you have been taught to worship. She who has been the blessed instrument of bringing you to the knowledge of the truth, was also the means of removing the dark cloud of error and prejudice that hung over my mind and that of Amaziah. Many years have elapsed since the happy change took place; but our safety required that it should be kept secret; and as so much of our time has been passed in the country, our renunciation of the religion of our forefathers was not discovered. Often have I wished and prayed that the time might come when I could be permitted to instruct you, Naomi, in the truths of Christianity; but I felt that I should be abusing the confidence reposed in me by your parents if I attempted to do so without their knowledge and consent. The very strong prejudice which your excellent father entertains against the disciples of Jesus, made it hopeless for me to expect that consent; and I could only offer up my fervent prayers, that in his own good time the Lord would call you to the knowledge of himself. My prayers have been answered, and you may imagine my feelings of joy and gratitude when Mary informed me that you had confessed your sincere faith in the Son of God."
Naomi's astonishment was only equalled by her delight at finding that her beloved relatives were also united to her in the bonds of one faith, and one hope in Christ.
"Now," she exclaimed, "I shall feel that I am not alone and divided from all I love on earth. Oh that my father and my mother, and my poor misguided brother would also believe in the Redeemer, and find that rest to their souls which I never knew, until I was convinced that in him my sins were blotted out, and that by his death my salvation was purchased. And all this I owe to you, my excellent—my beloved teacher. I saw that amid poverty, and persecution, and infirmity, you were happier than the wealthiest, the proudest of the self-righteous Jews with whom I was acquainted; and I felt sure that nothing but a true faith could produce the heavenly calm that reigned over your soul. And when I heard of the love and pity, the wisdom and power of Him in whom you put your trust, I could no longer wonder at your joy and peace; and thankfully I acknowledge, that, in a humble degree, the same faith and the same hope now animate my soul."
Long and interesting was the conversation of these Christian friends; and Judith informed her niece of the particulars of her own and her husband's conversion to Christianity, and their admission by baptism into the church of Christ at Jerusalem. Theophilus had also sincerely embraced the same religion, and had received the sacred rite several years since. Naomi was surprised to find how numerous had been the company of Christians in Jerusalem; until the period when James, the brother of the Lord, and the first bishop of that city, was murdered.
"Since that unhappy event, which you, Naomi, must well remember," added Judith, "the church has been dispersed and persecuted; and those of its members who have remained in Jerusalem have feared to appear so openly as they ventured to do during the life of that upright and excellent man."
"I do remember his death," replied Naomi, "and I also well remember my father's indignation at the cruel manner in which he was slain. Though he looked upon James the Just as a mistaken and deluded man, and despised his religion, yet I have often heard both him and his friends say that he well deserved the title which was bestowed on him of 'the fortress of the people,' for that he commanded the love and admiration of the whole city, from his divine temper, and his meekness and humility. My father even once declared, since the troubles of our nation commenced, that he considered the barbarous murder of that righteous and venerable man as a principal means of bringing the wrath and the chastisements of God upon the city. He was present when James was led to the top of the temple-wall, and placed there in sight of the collected multitude below, in the hope that he would declare to them his conviction that Jesus of Nazareth was not the long-promised Messiah; and he shared in the general disappointment when, instead of doing as was expected, the venerable saint lifted up his voice, and loudly proclaimed that Jesus was the Son of God. But my father did not join in the cry to hurl him from the wall—he would have saved his life, if possible; but the infuriated populace cast him down the precipice. I have seen the tears in Zadok's eyes, when he has described to us the old man rising on his knees after the fall, in which he miraculously escaped being killed, and with uplifted hands praying for mercy on his persecutors. Oh! how hard must have been the hearts of those who could behold him thus, and not be moved to pity, but stoned him as he knelt! If he were living now, with what different feelings should I regard him from those which I entertained when, as a child, I learned to call him Nazarene, as a term of reproach, though even then I never saw his holy countenance without an emotion of awe and veneration!"
"His presence was indeed a blessing, and his death a calamity, both to Christians and to Jews," replied Judith. "He was the only one of the sacred band of apostles whom I ever knew, though I remember to have seen several of them during my youth, before they were dispersed and scattered into distant nations, when Herod stretched forth his hands to vex the church. Mary has been more highly blessed, for she was acquainted with all those chosen men, and still more blessed was she in being permitted to enjoy the presence and share the friendship of the Saviour himself."
"Yes," paid Mary, "my eyes have seen those things which many prophets and kings have desired to see, and have not seen—I have seen the Lord Jesus in his human nature, and in his humility: and now all the desire of my heart is to behold the King in his beauty, and see him on the throne of his father David. When he comes in his majesty every eye shall see him, and all shall equally confess that he is the Son of God. But oh! how will those regard him then who have rejected him in his low estate? And how will they stand before his throne of judgment who have despised his offers of mercy?"