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From a Photograph by C. F. Tyrwhitt Drake, Esq.] [Frontispiece.
THE DOME OF THE ROCK.

JERUSALEM,

THE CITY OF HEROD AND SALADIN.

BY

WALTER BESANT, M.A.,

CHRIST’S COLLEGE. CAMBRIDGE.

AUTHOR OF “STUDIES IN EARLY FRENCH POETRY,” ETC., ETC., ETC.

AND

E. H. PALMER, M.A.,

LORD ALMONER’S PROFESSOR OF ARABIC IN THE UNIVERSITY OF

CAMBRIDGE, AND FELLOW OF ST. JOHN’S COLLEGE.

AUTHOR OF THE “DESERT OF THE EXODUS.”

ETC., ETC., ETC.

LONDON:

RICHARD BENTLEY AND SON,

NEW BURLINGTON STREET,

Publishers in Ordinary to Her Majesty.

1871.

[The Right of Translation is reserved.]

LONDON

PRINTED BY WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, STAMFORD STREET

AND CHARING CROSS.

PREFACE.

Very few words are needed to introduce this volume. It is intended to give a history of the city of Jerusalem from about the year 30 to the present time. This period includes the siege and capture by Titus, the last revolts of the Jews, the Christian occupation of three hundred years, the Mohammedan conquest, the building by the Mohammedans of the Dome of the Rock, the Crusades, the Christian kingdom, the reconquest of the city, and a long period of Mohammedan occupation, during which no event has happened except the yearly flocking of pilgrims to the Church of the Sepulchre, and an occasional quarrel among the monks.

There are here, surely, sufficient materials for the historian if only he knows how to use them.

For the modern period, that of the Christian kingdom, two sources of information exist, one, the contemporary and later chronicles of the Crusaders, written either in Latin or Langue d’Oil, and the other, the Arabic historians themselves. I have written my own part of the book from the former; to my colleague is due all that part (the Mohammedan Conquest, the chapter on Saladin, &c.) which has been taken from Arabic writers. Most of this has the great advantage of being entirely new, and now for the first time introduced to English readers. For my own share in the work, I claim no other novelty than the presentation of facts as faithfully as I could gather them, at first hand, and from the earliest writers.

There is nothing sacred about the actors in this long story we have to tell, and we have not thought it necessary to endeavour to invest them, as is generally done by those who write on Jerusalem, with an appearance of sanctity, because they fought for the City of Sacred Memories, or because they bore the Cross upon their shoulders. We have, on the other hand, endeavoured to show them as they were, men and women actuated by mixed motives, sometimes base, sometimes noble, sometimes interested, sometimes pure and lofty: but always men and women, never saints. The Christians in the East were as the Christians in the West, certainly never better, more often worse. If we have succeeded in making a plain tale, divested of its customary pseudoreligious trappings, interesting and useful, our design is satisfied.

One word more. There may be found, owing to the double source from which our pages are derived, certain small discrepancies in the narrative. We have not cared to try and reconcile these. Let it be remembered that the one narrative is Christian, the other Mohammedan.

W. B.

October, 1871.

CONTENTS.

JERUSALEM.
THE CITY OF HEROD AND SALADIN.

CHAPTER I.
INTRODUCTORY.

It is our object to write a book which may serve as a historical account, complete so far as it goes, of the principal events with which Jerusalem is concerned, from the time when its history, as connected with the Bible, ceases, till the present; that is to say, from the year A.D. 33 downwards. But it is difficult to take up the thread of the story at this date, and we are forced either to go as far back as Herod the Great, or to begin our narrative with the events which preceded the siege of Jerusalem by Titus. No date seems to us more ready to our hand than that of the death of Herod Agrippa. Even then we may seem beginning to tell a thrice told tale. The revolt of the Jews, their defeat of Cestius, the siege of Titus, are surely, it may be objected, too well known to require telling again. They are not well known, though they have been told again and again, and told with ten times the force, the vigour, the originality which we can put into these pages. But they are told here again because our central figure is Jerusalem. We have to show her first, in all her pride, the joy of the Jews, the visible mark of their greatness; and then we have to follow her through two thousand years of varying fortune, always before the eyes of the world,—always the object of tender pity and reverence,—always the centre of some conflict, the scene of some religious contention. Frequent as were the sieges of the city in the olden days, they have been more frequent since. Titus took Jerusalem, Barcochebas took it, Julius Severus took it, Chosroes, Heraclius, Omar, the Charezmians, Godfrey, Saladin, Frederick, all took it by turns,—all after hard fighting, and with much slaughter.

There is not a stone in the city but has been reddened with human blood; not a spot but where some hand-to-hand conflict has taken place; not an old wall but has echoed back the shrieks of despairing women. Jew, Pagan, Christian, Mohammedan, each has had his turn of triumph, occupation, and defeat; and were all those ancient cemeteries outside the city emptied of their bones, it would be hard to tell whether Jew, or Pagan, or Christian, or Mohammedan would prevail. For Jerusalem has been the representative sacred place of the world; there has been none other like unto it, or equal to it, or shall be, while the world lasts; so long as men go on believing that one spot in the world is more sacred than another, because things of sacred interest have been done there, so long Jerusalem will continue the Holy City. That this belief has been one of the misfortunes of the human race, one of the foremost causes of superstition, some of the pages which follow may perhaps help to show. But, in our capacity as narrators only, let us agree to think and talk of the city apart, as much as may be, from its sacred associations, as well as from its ecclesiastical history.

The fatal revolt of the Jews, which ended in the fall of their city and the destruction of their Temple, was due, among many other causes, to the teaching of Judas the Galilæan acting on minds inflated with pride in the exaggerated glories of the past, looking to national independence as the one thing needful, and wholly ignorant of the power and resources of the mighty empire which held them in subjection. Judas, himself in spirit a worthy descendant of the Maccabæans, had taught that Jehovah was the only King of the Jews, who were his chosen people; that submission to a foreign yoke involved not only national degradation, but treason to the lawful powers; that tribute, the badge and sign of slavery, ought to be refused at any cost. “We have no Lord and master but God,” was the cry of his party. With that cry he and his followers assembled to do battle against the world: with that cry on their lips they died. But the cry and its idea did not die; for from that time a fourth sect was among the Jews, more powerful than all the rest put together, containing the great mass of the people, who had no education to give them common sense, and whose ignorance added fuel to the flames of a religious enthusiasm almost without parallel in the history of the world. The Pharisees and the Sadducees still continued for a time in the high places; the Essenes still lived and died apart from the world, the Shakers of their time, a small band with no power or influence; but all around them was rising a tide destined to whelm all beneath the waves of fanaticism. The followers of Judas became the Zealots and the Sicarii of later times: they were those who looked daily for the Messiah; whom false Christs led astray by thousands; who thought no act too daring to be attempted in this sacred cause, no life too valuable to be sacrificed: they were those who let their countrymen die of starvation by thousands while they maintained a hopeless struggle with Titus.

When Herod Agrippa died, his son, who was only seventeen years of age, was in Rome; and, as he was too young to be entrusted with the conduct of the turbulent province of Judæa, Cuspius Fadus was sent there as Governor. He found that Agrippa had allowed the robbers who always infested the country east of Jordan to gain head. He put them down with a strong arm, and turned his attention to things of domestic importance. By the permission of Vitellius, the custody of the sacred robes had been surrendered to the High Priest. Cuspius Fadus ordered that they should be restored to the fortress of Antonia. The Jews appealed to Cæsar, and, by the intercession of young Agrippa, they carried their point, and retained the possession of the robes. Under Fadus, one Theudas, whom Josephus calls a magician, persuaded multitudes of the Jews to go with him to the Jordan, which he pretended would open its waters to let him pass. Cuspius Fadus sent out a troop of cavalry, who took Theudas alive, cut off his head, and brought it to Jerusalem. Under Cuspius, too, occurred a great famine in Judæa, which was relieved by the generosity of Queen Helena of Adiabene, the proselyte.[^[1]]

[1]. The story of Queen Helena is told by Josephus, ‘Antiq.’ xx. 2, 3, 4, and in Milman, ‘Hist. of the Jews,’ ii. p. 200; and see also, for the whole of this period, Williams’s ‘Holy City,’ vol. i. p. 150 et seq.

When Fadus either died or was recalled, Tiberius Alexander, a renegade Jew, nephew of Philo, succeeded him for a short time. It is not stated how long he continued in power. His only recorded act is the crucifixion of two of the sons of Judas the Galilæan. In his turn Tiberius was replaced by Ventidius Cumanus, and the first symptoms of the approaching madness broke out. The fortress of Antonia commanded the Temple area, and communicated with the Temple itself by means of cloisters. On those days of public festivals when the fanaticism of the people was most likely to break out and cause mischief, a strong guard was always placed in Antonia, in full view of the people, to overawe them with good behaviour. Most unfortunately, on one occasion, immediately after the arrival of Cumanus, one of the soldiers of the guard expressed his contempt for the religious ceremonies by an indecent gesture. The rage of the people knew no bounds; they declared that Cumanus had himself ordered the affront to be committed. The governor bore their reproaches with patience, only urging them not to disturb their festival by riotous conduct. As, however, they still continued clamouring, he ordered his whole garrison to proceed to Antonia. Then a panic ensued. The mob, thinking they were about to be attacked by the soldiers, turned and fled, trampling on each other in the narrow passages. Many thousands perished in this way, without a blow being struck. And while they were still mourning over this disaster, another happened to them. Some of the very men who had raised the first tumult, probably countrymen on their way home, fell on and robbed Stephanus, a slave of the Emperor. Cumanus, obliged to punish this, sent soldiers to bring in the chief men of the village. One of the soldiers tore up a book of the Law with abuse and scurrility. The Jews came to Cumanus, and represented that they could not possibly endure such an insult to their God. Cumanus appeased them for the time by beheading the soldier who had been guilty of the offence.

The animosities of the Samaritans and the Jews were the cause of the next disturbances. The Galilæans always used the roads which passed through the Samaritan territory in their journeys to and from the Temple. Faction fights naturally often took place. In one of these, of greater magnitude than the generality, a good many Galilæans were killed: the Jews came to Cumanus and complained of what they were pleased to call murder. Cumanus took the part of the Samaritans, and actually went to their aid, after the Jews called in the assistance of a robber chieftain, and helped them to defeat the Galilæans. It is difficult to see what else they could do. Both parties appealed to Cæsar. Cumanus was recalled: his military tribune was beheaded, decision was given in favour of the Jews: all this, no doubt, was done with a full knowledge of the dangerous and the turbulent nature of the people, and with a view to preserving the peace.

Claudius Felix was sent in place of Cumanus, a freedman, brother of Pallas the favourite of the Emperor, magnificent, prodigal, luxurious, and unscrupulous. He found the country in the worst state possible, full of robbers, and impostors. These sprung up everyday, and were everyday caught and destroyed; no doubt most of them men whose wits were utterly gone in looking for the Messiah, until they ended in believing themselves to be the Messiah. These poor creatures, followed by a rabble more ignorant and more mad than themselves, went up and down the distracted country, raising hopes which were doomed to disappointment, and leading out the wild countrymen to meet death and torture when they looked for glory and victory. One of the impostors, an Egyptian, probably an Egyptian Jew, brought a multitude up to the Mount of Olives, promising that at his word the walls of the city should fall down, and they themselves march in triumphant. He came, but instead of seeing the walls fall down, he met the troops of Felix, who dispersed his people, slaying four hundred of them.

To Felix belongs the crime of introducing the Sicarii into the city of Jerusalem. Wearied with the importunities of the high priest, Jonathan, who exhorted him continually to govern better, or at all events to govern differently, and reproached him with the fact that it was through his own influence that Felix obtained his office, he resolved to rid himself of a friend so troublesome, by the speediest and surest method, that of assassination. The Sicarii were not, like the hired bravoes of the middle ages, men who would commit any murder for which they were paid. It appears, on the contrary, that they held it a cardinal point of faith to murder those, and only those, who seemed to stand in the way of their cause. Now their cause was that of the sect which had grown out of Judas’s teaching, the zealots. These Sicarii mingling with the crowd of those who went up to worship, carrying daggers concealed under their garments, fell upon Jonathan the High Priest, and murdered him.[^[2]] This done they went on slaying all those who were obnoxious to them, even in the Temple itself. “And this,” says the historian, “seems to me the reason why God, out of his hatred to the wickedness of these men, rejected our city: and as for the Temple, he no longer esteemed it sufficiently pure for him to inhabit therein, but brought the Romans upon us, and threw a fire upon the city to purge it: and brought upon us, our wives, and children, slavery,—as desirous to make us wiser by our calamities.” And now the voice of discord was heard even among the priests themselves, who had hitherto preserved a certain sobriety. Between the chief priests and “the principal men of the multitude of Jerusalem,” a feud broke out. Each side had its followers: they cast, we are told, not only reproachful words, but also stones at each other. And the chief priests, robbing the threshingfloors and appropriating all the tithes to themselves, caused many of the poorer priests to die of want.

[2]. Milman says, in the Temple itself, which does not appear from the account of Josephus, who expressly says that, after this, they had the boldness to murder men in the Temple itself.

Then occurred the first outbreak in Cæsarea. This town was about equally divided between the Syrians and the Jews, the former claimed the pre-eminence on the ground that Herod the founder, though himself a Jew, had built the splendid temples and statues by which the city was evidently intended to be a Grecian city, upon the site of Strato’s Tower; while the Jews argued that as the founder was a Jew, the city was evidently Jewish, and ought not to be ruled except by Jews. The dispute, as was always the case, came to the arbitrament of arms, in which the Jews got the best of it. Then Felix came himself, with a strong force, and brought them to their senses. But as the dispute still went on, he sent representatives on both sides to Nero the Emperor, who ruled in favour of the Greeks or Syrians. Here, the decision of the Emperor appears to have been just. Herod, the founder of Cæsarea, had clearly not intended to found a city for the further propagation of a sect to which he indeed belonged, regarding it, nevertheless, with the toleration of a cultivated Roman, as only one sect out of many. The Jews accepted the decision in their usual way: they only became more turbulent. Agrippa’s own dispute with his own countrymen was decided, however, in their favour, no doubt from politic considerations. He had built an upper room in his palace, where, lying on his couch, he could look over into the Temple and watch the sacrifices. Some of the priests discovering this, made out that it was an intrusion into the necessary privacy of their religious ceremonies, and hastily ran up a wall to prevent being overlooked. Festus, who had now succeeded Felix, ordered it to be pulled down; but, most probably at the instigation of Agrippa, whose popularity might be at stake, he gave permission to appeal to Nero. Ismael, the high priest, went, accompanied by the keeper of the Treasury. They carried their point: the wall was allowed to stand, but Ismael was detained in Rome, and Agrippa appointed and deprived three high priests in succession—Joseph, Annas, and Jesus son of Dammai. The firm, strong hand of Festus was meantime employed in putting down robbers, and regulating the disturbances of the country. Unhappily for the Jews, while he was so engaged, he was seized with some illness and died. Albinus succeeded him. As for Albinus, Josephus tells us that there was no sort of wickedness named but he had a hand in it. “Not only did he steal and plunder every one’s substance, not only did he burden the whole nation with taxes, but he permitted the relations of such as were in prison for robbery to redeem them for money; and nobody remained in the prisons as a malefactor but he who gave him nothing.... The principal men among the seditious purchased leave of Albinus to go on with their practices: and every one of these wretches was encompassed with his own band of robbers. Those who lost their goods were forced to hold their peace, when they had reason to show great indignation at what they had suffered; those who had escaped were forced to flatter him, that deserved to be punished out of the fear they were in of suffering equally with the others.”

This, however, is a vague accusation, and is found in the ‘Wars of the Jews,’ where Josephus is anxious to represent the revolt of the people as caused by the bad government of the Romans. From the ‘Antiquities’ we learn that it was Albinus’s wish to keep the country in peace, with which object he destroyed many of the Sicarii. Unfortunately for himself, he formed a great friendship with Ananias the high priest; and when Eleazar, son of Ananias, fell into the hands of the Sicarii, he consented to release ten of his own prisoners for his ransom. This was a fatal measure, because henceforth the Sicarii, if one of their number fell into trouble, and got taken by the Romans, caught a Jew and effected an exchange. Thus the prisons were emptied.

At this time the Temple was finished, and eighteen thousand workmen found themselves suddenly out of employment. Terrified at the prospect of this starving mob being added to their difficulties (for the streets of Jerusalem were already filled with bands of armed men, partisans of deposed high priests), the citizens asked Agrippa to rebuild the Eastern Cloisters, the splendid piece of work which had been built originally by Solomon along that east wall which still stands overlooking the valley of the Kedron. But Agrippa, whose interest in the turbulent city was very small, already meditated departure to some safer quarter, and was spending all the money he had to spare at Beyrout, where he built a theatre, and collected a gallery of sculptures. But he conceded something to his petitioners, and allowed them to pave the city with stone.

Albinus disappears from the history, and Gessius Florus, who exchanged a scourging with whips for a scourging with scorpions, ruled in his place. Cestius Gallus, a man of equal rapacity with himself, ruled in Syria. One cannot read Josephus without, in the first place, suspecting that he wilfully exaggerates the wickedness of the Roman rulers; that he does so in the case of Albinus is clear, as we have shown from comparing the account given in the ‘Antiquities’ with that given in the ‘Wars.’ But even if he only exaggerates, and making allowance for this, were men of special inhumanity and rapacity chosen for those very qualities to rule the country? And if not, if Gessius Florus and Albinus be fair specimens of the officers by whom Rome ruled her provinces and colonies, by what mysterious power was this vast empire kept from universal revolt?

“Upon what meat had this their Cæsar fed,

That he was grown so great?”

The Jews, however, were not the people to brook ill-treatment; and when they took arms against the Romans it was not as if their case seemed to themselves hopeless. They had, it is true, the western world against them; but they had the eastern world behind them, a possible place of refuge. And though they armed against the whole Roman Empire, it must be remembered that the forces at the command of the Emperor were not overwhelming; that they were spread over Africa, Egypt, Spain, Gaul, Britain, Greece, and Italy; that only a certain number could be spared; and that the number of the Jews in Syria amounted probably to several millions. When Cestius Gallus was in Jerusalem at the time of the Passover he ordered the lambs which were sacrificed to be counted. They came to two hundred and fifty-five thousand six hundred. It was reckoned that this represented a total of three millions present in Jerusalem and camped round about it, assisting at the festival. Probably not more than half, perhaps not more than a quarter of the whole number of the people came up. However this may be, it is certain that Palestine was very densely populated; that there were great numbers of Jews in Alexandria, Asia Minor, and Italy; that at any signal success those would have flocked to the standard of revolt; and that had the nation been unanimous and obedient to one general, instead of being divided into sects, parties, and factions, the armies of Vespasian and Titus would have been wholly unable to cope with the rebellion, and the independence of the Jews would have been prevented only by putting forth all the power of the Roman Empire. This was shown later on in the revolt of Barcochebas, a far more serious revolt than this of the zealots, though not so well known, because it was attended with no such signal result as the destruction of the Temple, and because there was no Josephus in the camp of the enemy taking notes of what went on.

The object of Florus, we are told, was to drive the people to revolt. This we do not believe. It could not have been the policy of Florus to drive into revolt a dangerous and stubborn people, whose character was well known at Rome, whom the Emperor had always been anxious to conciliate. His object may have been, undoubtedly was, to enrich himself as speedily as possible, knowing that revolt was impending and inevitable, and anxious to secure himself a provision in case of his own recall or banishment. Until that provision was secured it would have been fatal for Florus that the revolt should break out.

The first disturbances took place at Cæsarea, when the Greeks, exulting in Nero’s decision, were daily more and more insulting to the Jews. The latter had a synagogue, round which was an open space of ground which they wished to purchase. The owner refused to sell it, and built mean shops upon it, leaving only a narrow passage whereby the Jews could pass to their place of worship. One John, a publican, went to Florus, and begged him to interfere, offering at the same time a bribe of eight talents, an enormous sum, which shows that this was more than an ordinary squabble. Florus went away, leaving them to fight it out; and the Greeks added fresh matter of wrath to the Jews by ostentatiously sacrificing birds in an earthen vase as they passed to the synagogue. The significance of this act was that the Greeks loved to tell how the Jews had been all expelled from Egypt, on account of their being leprous. Arms were taken up, and the Jews got the worst of the fray. They withdrew to a place some miles from the town, and sent John to Florus to ask for assistance. John ventured on a reminder about the eight talents, and was rewarded by being thrown into prison. Then Florus went on to Jerusalem, where the wildest tumults raged in consequence of this affront to religion. Alarmed at the symptoms of revolt, he sent messengers beforehand to take seventeen talents out of the sacred treasury, on the ground that Cæsar wanted them. Then the people ran to the Temple, and called upon Cæsar by name, as if he could hear them, to rid them of this Florus. Some of them went about with baskets begging money for him as for a man in a destitute and miserable condition.

The next day news came that Florus was advancing to the city, and the people thought they had better go out and speak him fair. But he was not disposed to receive their salutation, and so sent on Capito, a centurion, with fifty soldiers, bidding them go back and not pretend to receive him as if they were delighted to see him among them again. And he rode into the city, the people being all expectation of what would happen the next day. And in the morning the tribunal of Florus was erected before the gates of his palace. The high priest was summoned to attend, and ordered to give up those who had led the tumult. He urged in extenuation that he did not know the ringleaders, that the act of a few hot-headed youths ought not to be visited on the whole city, and that, in short, he was very sorry for the whole business, and hoped Florus would overlook it. Florus gave orders to his soldiers to pillage the upper market; they did so, scourging, pillaging, and murdering. Berenice, the sister of Agrippa, came herself, barefoot, with shorn head and penitential dress, before Florus, urging him to have pity. But the inexorable Roman, bent on revenge, allowed the soldiers to go on.

Next day he sent again for the high priest, and told him that as a sign of the loyalty of the people, and their sorrow for the late tumults, he should expect them to go forth and meet the two cohorts who were advancing to Jerusalem with every sign of joy. The seditious part of the citizens refused. Then the chief priests, with dust upon their heads and rent garments, brought out the holy vessels and the sacerdotal robes, with their harpers and harps, and implored the people not to risk a collision with the Romans. They yielded, and went out to welcome the cohorts. But the soldiers preserved a gloomy silence. Then some of the more fiery Jews, turning on the Romans, began to abuse Florus. The horsemen rode at them and trampled them down, and a scene of the wildest uproar took place at the gates as they pressed and jostled each other to get in. Then the troops marched straight on Antonia, hoping to get both the fortress and the Temple into their hands. They got into Antonia, when the Jews cut down some part of the cloisters which connected the fort with the Temple. Florus tried to join them, but his men could not pass through the streets, which were crammed with Jews. And next day Florus retired to Cæsarea, leaving only one cohort behind, and the city boiling and seething with rage and madness. And now, indeed, there was little hope of any reconciliation. Both Florus and the Jews sent statements of their conduct to Cestius Gallus, and begged for an investigation. And it must have been now, if at all, that Florus became desirous of fanning the embers of discontent into a flame and making that a war which had only promised to be a disturbance. But nothing can be discovered to prove that Josephus’s assertions as to his motives are based on fact. It is easy, of course, to attribute motives, but hard to prove them. Nothing advanced by Josephus proves more than that Florus was rapacious and cruel, and the people discontented and turbulent. Cestius sent Neapolitanus, one of his officers, to report on the condition of the city. Agrippa joined him. The people came sixty furlongs out of the town to meet them, crying and lamenting, calling on Agrippa to help them in their miseries, and beseeching Neapolitanus to hear their complaints against Florus. The latter they took all round the city, showing him that it was perfectly quiet, and that the people had risen, not against the Romans, but against Florus. Then Neapolitanus went into the Temple to perform such sacrifices as were allowed to strangers, and commending the Jews for their fidelity, went back to Cestius. Agrippa came next. Placing his sister Berenice, doubtless a favourite with the people, in the gallery with him, he made a long harangue. He implored them to consider the vast power of the Romans, and not, for the sake of a quarrel with one governor, to bring upon themselves the ruin of themselves, their families, and their nation. He pointed out that if they would have patience the state of their country should be fairly placed before the emperor’s consideration, and he pledged himself that it would receive his best care. “Have pity,” he concluded, with a burst of tears,—“have pity on your children and your wives, have pity upon this your city and its holy walls, and spare the Temple; preserve the holy house for yourselves.”

The Jews, ever an impressionable race, yielded to the entreaties of Agrippa and the tears of Berenice, and making up the tribute money, paid it into the treasury. Then they began to repair the damage they had done to Antonia. All looked well; but there was one thing yet wanting to complete their submission, they were to obey Florus till he should be removed. This condition they refused to comply with, and when Agrippa urged it upon them, they threw stones at him and reproached him with the uttermost bitterness. Then Agrippa went away in despair, taking with him Berenice, and leaving the city to its fate.

The insurrection began, as it ended, with the taking of the stormy fortress of Masada near the Dead Sea. Here the Roman garrison were all slaughtered. Eleazar the son of Ananias the high priest began the insurrection in Jerusalem, by passing a law that the sacrifices of strangers were henceforth to be forbidden, and no imperial gifts to be offered. The moderate party used all their influence, but in vain, to prevent this. Agrippa sent a small army of three thousand men to help the moderates. The insurgents seized the Temple: the moderates, who included all the wealthy classes, occupied the upper city, and hostilities commenced. A great accession of strength to the insurgents was caused by the burning of the public archives, where all debts were incurred, and consequently the power of the rich was taken from them at one blow.

Then appeared on the scene another leader, for a very brief interval, Manahem, the youngest son of Judas the Galilæan. He came dressed in royal robes and surrounded with guards, no doubt eager to play the part of another Maccabæus. The insurgents took Antonia and the royal palace, and drove the Roman garrison to the three strong towns of Hippicus, Phasaelus, and Mariamne. Ananias, found hidden in an aqueduct, was killed at once; and Manahem became so puffed up with his success that he became intolerable. It was easy to get rid of this mushroom king, who was deposed without any trouble by Eleazar and tortured to death. And then the Roman garrison yielded, Metilius, their commander, stipulating only for the lives of his soldiers. This was granted; but no sooner had they laid down their arms than the Jews fell upon them, vainly calling on the faith of a treaty, and murdered them all except Metilius. Him they spared on condition of his becoming a proselyte.

On that very day and hour, while the Jews were plunging their daggers in the hearts of the Romans, a great and terrible slaughter of their own people was going on in Cæsarea, where the Syrians and Greeks had risen upon the Jews, and massacred twenty thousand of them in a single day. And in every Syrian city the same madness and hatred seized the people, and the Jews were ruthlessly slaughtered in all. No more provocation was needed; no more was possible. In spite of all their turbulence, their ungovernable obstinacy, their fanaticism and pride, which made the war inevitable, and in the then state of mankind these very massacres inevitable,—one feels a profound sympathy with the people who dared to fight and die, seeing that it was hopeless to look for better things. The heads of the people began the war with gloomy forebodings; the common masses with the wildest enthusiasm, which became the mere intoxication of success when they drove back Cestius from the walls of the city, on the very eve of his anticipated victory—for Cestius hastened southwards with an army of twenty thousand men, and besieged the city. The people, divided amongst themselves, were on the point of opening the gates to the Romans, when, to the surprise of everybody, Cestius suddenly broke up his camp and began to retreat. Why he did so, no one ever knew; possessed by a divine madness, Josephus thinks, because God would take no pity on the city and the Sanctuary. As the heavy armed Romans plodded on their way in serried ranks, they were followed by a countless multitude, gathering in numbers every hour, who assailed them with darts, with stones, and with insults. The retreat became a flight, and Cestius brought back his army with a quarter of its numbers killed, having allowed the Roman arms to receive the most terrible disgrace they had ever endured in the East.

Vespasian was sent hastily with a force of three legions, besides the cohorts of auxiliaries. A finer army had never been put into the field, nor did any army have ever harder work before them. Of the first campaign, that in Galilee, our limits will not allow us to write. In the graphic pages of Josephus, himself the hero of Jotapata, or in the still more graphic pages of Milman, may be read how the Jews fought, step by step, bringing to their defence not only the most dogged courage, but also the most ingenious devices; how the blue waves of the Lake of Galilee were reddened with the blood of those whom the Romans killed in their boats; how Vespasian broke his word and sold as slaves those he had promised to pardon; how Gamala fought and Gischala fell, and how for the sins of the people, John was permitted by Heaven to escape and become the tyrant of Jerusalem.

The months passed on, and yet the Romans appeared not before the walls of the city. This meantime was a prey to internal evils, which when read appear almost incredible. The bold rough country folk who followed John, who had fought in Galilee, and escaped the slaughter of Vespasian, came up to the city filled with one idea, that of resistance. In their eyes a Moderate, a Romanizer, was an enemy worse than a Roman, for he was a traitor to the country. They found themselves in a rich and luxurious town, filled with things of which in their distant homes they had had no idea. And these things all belonged to the Romanizers. They needed little permission to pillage, less, to murder the men who had everything to lose, and nothing to gain, by continuing the war. And then ensued a civil war, the scenes of which surpass in horror those of any other page in history. Through the streets ran the zealots dressed in fantastic garb, which they had pillaged, some of them attired as women, murdering all the rich and those who were obnoxious to their party. It is vain to follow their course of plunder, murder, and sedition. They invited the Idumæans to come to their assistance—a fierce and warlike race, who had been all Judaized since the time of Hyrcanus. These gladly came. By night, while a dreadful tempest raged overhead, a sign of God’s wrath, and amid the shrieks of wounded men and despairing women, the Idumæans attacked and gained possession of the Temple, and when the day dawned eight thousand bodies lay piled within the sacred area. Among them were those of Ananus, and Jesus the son of Gamala, the high priests. Stripped naked, their corpses were thrown out to the dogs, and it was forbidden even to bury them. Simon Ben Gioras, who had first signalized himself in the defeat of Cestius, came to the city to add one more to the factions. The moderate party were stamped out and exterminated, and the city divided between John and Simon, who fought incessantly till Titus’s legions appeared before the walls.

Note.—The materials for this chapter were chiefly found in Josephus and Milman’s ‘History of the Jews.’ In the chapters which follow, it has not been thought necessary to name the authorities for each chapter. References will be found occasionally, among other books, to Williams’s ‘Holy City,’ and Lewin’s ‘Siege of Jerusalem.’

CHAPTER II.
THE SIEGE OF JERUSALEM.

Bella, sublimis, inclyta divitiis,

Olim fuisti celsa ædificiis,

Mœnibus clara, sed magis innumerum

Civium turmis.

The events at Rome which elevated Vespasian to the throne were the principal reasons that the siege of Jerusalem was not actually commenced till the early summer of the year 70, when, in April Titus began his march from Cæsarea. His army consisted of four legions: the 5th, under Sextus Cerealis; the 10th, under Lartius Lepidus; the 12th, that which had suffered defeat under Cestius, and was still in disgrace, and the 15th. Besides this formidable force of regulars, he had a very large number of auxiliaries. The exact number of his troops is not easy to estimate. We may at once put aside, as clearly below the mark, the estimate which puts Titus’s army at thirty thousand; for if we agree in accepting Josephus’s statement[^[3]] with regard to Vespasian’s army in the year 67, it consisted of sixty thousand, including the auxiliaries. The campaign in Galilee cost him a few, but not many, killed in the sieges. We may deduct a small number, too, but not many, for garrison work, for the conquest of the country had been, after the usual Roman fashion, thorough and complete. Not only were the people defeated, but they were slaughtered. Not only was their spirit crushed, but their powers of making even the feeblest resistance were taken away from them;[^[4]] and all those who were yet desirous of carrying on the war, those of the fanatics who escaped the sword of Vespasian, had fled to Jerusalem to fall by the sword of Titus. A very small garrison would be required for Galilee and Samaria, and we may be very sure that the large army which was with Vespasian in 67 nearly all followed Titus in 70. The legions had been filled up, and new auxiliaries had arrived.[^[5]] Besides these, Josephus expressly says that the army of Vespasian, and therefore that of Titus, was accompanied by servants[^[6]] “in vast numbers, who, because they had been trained up in war with the rest, ought not to be distinguished from the fighting men; for, as they were in their masters’ service in times of peace, so did they undergo the like danger with them in time of war, insomuch that they were inferior to none either in skill or in strength, only they were subject to their masters.”

[3]. Let us take the opportunity of stating our opinion that Josephus’s testimony may generally be relied upon. It was for a long time the fashion to hold up his exaggerations to ridicule. Thus, when he spoke of the height of the wall as being such as to make the head reel, travellers remembered the fifty feet of wall or so at the present day and laughed. But Captain Warren has found that the wall was in parts as much as 200 feet high. Surely a man may be excused for feeling giddy at looking down a depth of 200 feet. Whenever Josephus speaks from personal knowledge, he appears to us to be accurate and trustworthy. There is nothing on which he could speak with greater authority, which would sooner have been discovered, than a misstatement as regards the Roman army.

[4]. Milman gives a list of the losses of the Jews in this war compiled from the numbers given by Josephus. It amounts to more than three millions. Deductions must, of course, be made.

[5]. No argument ought to be founded on the supposed numbers of the legions. The number generally composing a legion in the time of the Empire was 6000, and before the Empire, was 4000. But at Pharsalia Cæsar’s legions were only 2000 each, while Pompey’s were 7000.

[6]. It is very curious that these “servants” are not mentioned either by Mr. Lewin or Mr. Fergusson. Mr. Williams puts down the number of the legions at 10,000 each, perhaps including the servants.

It is not easy to make any kind of estimate of the number of these servants. Perhaps, however, we shall be within the mark if we put down the whole number of forces under Titus’s command at something like eighty thousand—an army which was greatly superior in numbers to that of the besieged. It was also fully provided and equipped with military engines, provisions and material of all kinds. It marched, without meeting any enemy, from Cæsarea to Jerusalem, where it arrived on the 11th of April.[^[7]]

The city, meanwhile, had been continuing those civil dissensions which hastened its ruin. John, Simon Bar Gioras, and Eleazar, each at the head of his own faction, made the streets run with blood. John, whose followers numbered six thousand, held the Lower, New, and Middle City; Simon, at the head of ten thousand Jews and five thousand Idumeans, had the strong post of the Upper City, with a portion of the third wall; Eleazar, with two thousand zealots, more fanatic than the rest, had barricaded himself within the Temple itself. There they admitted, it is true, unarmed worshippers, but kept out the rest. The stores of the Temple provided them with abundance of provisions, and while the rest of the soldiers were starving, those who were within the Temple walls[^[8]] were well fed and in good case. This was, however, the only advantage which Eleazar possessed over the rest. Their position, cooped up in a narrow fortress—for such the Temple was—and exposed to a constant shower of darts, stones, and missiles of all sorts, from John’s men, was miserable enough. John and Simon fought with each other in the lower ground, the valley of the Tyropœon, which lay between the Temple and Mount Zion. Here were stored up supplies of corn sufficient, it is said, for many years’ supply. But in the sallies which John and Simon made upon each other all the buildings in this part of the town were destroyed or set on fire, and all their corn burned; so that famine had actually begun before the commencement of the siege.

[7]. The dates of the siege are all taken from Professor Willis’s ‘Journal,’ given in Williams’s ‘Holy City,’ vol. i. p. 478.

[8]. After Eleazar had succumbed to John.

“And now,” to quote the words of the historian, “the people of the city were like a great body torn in pieces. The aged men and the women were in such distress by their internal calamities that they wished for the Romans, and earnestly hoped for an external war, in order to deliver them from their domestic miseries. The citizens themselves were under a terrible consternation and fear; nor had they any opportunity of taking counsel and of changing their conduct; nor were there any hopes of coming to an agreement with their enemies; nor could such as wished to do so flee away, for guards were set at all places, and the chiefs of the robbers agreed in killing those who were for peace with the Romans.”

Day and night, he goes on to tell us, the wretched inhabitants were harassed with the shouts of those who fought, and the lamentation of those who mourned, until through the overwhelming fear, every one for himself, relations ceased to care for each other, the living ceased to mourn for the dead, and those who were not among the defenders of the walls ceased to care for anything or to look for anything except for speedy destruction; and this even before the siege began.

And yet, with the city in this miserable and wretched condition, with the certain knowledge that the Romans were coming, the usual crowds of Jews and Idumeans flocked to the city to keep the feast of the Passover. Their profound faith was proof against every disaster. That the Temple should actually fall, actually be destroyed, seems never even to have entered into their heads; and there can be little doubt that the rude, rough, country people, coming to keep the Passover with their wives and children, were filled with a wild hope that the God of Joshua was about to work some signal deliverance for them. The population thus crowded into the city is estimated by Tacitus at six hundred thousand; by Josephus at more than double that number. There are reasons for believing the number at least as great as that stated by Tacitus. A register of the buried had been kept in the city, and the registrar of one gate, out of which the dead were thrown, gave Josephus a note of his numbers. The historian conversed with those who escaped. A list of the captives would be, no doubt, made—the Romans were not in the habit of doing things carelessly, even after a great victory—and they would be accessible to Josephus. So far as these go we ought to allow Josephus’s right to the consideration due to an eye-witness; and it seems to us absolutely unwarranted by any historical or other arguments, to put down, as has been done, the population of this city during the siege at sixty or seventy thousand.[^[9]] This was doubtless something like the ordinary population; but it was swelled tenfold and twentyfold by the crowds of those who came yearly to keep the feast. Again, the argument based by Mr. Fergusson on the area of the city fails for the simple reason that it is founded on wrong calculations[^[10]] as to the number of square yards. Moreover, it seems to assume the besieged to have been all comfortably lodged; it ignores altogether the estimate taken by Cestius; while, if the numbers adopted by Mr. Fergusson be correct, the horrors of the siege must have been grossly exaggerated, and the stories told by Josephus cannot be accepted; and, for a last objection, it appears to be assumed, what is manifestly incorrect, that every able-bodied man fought. For this vast mass of poor helpless people were like a brutum pecus; they took no part whatever in the fighting. Nothing is clearer than the statement made by Josephus of the fighting men. They were twenty-three thousand in all at the beginning: they did not invite help, and probably would not allow it, from the population within the walls. These, who very speedily found relief, in the thinning of death, for their first lack of accommodation, sat crouching and cowering in the houses, desperately hoping against hope, starving from the very commencement, beginning to die in heaps almost before the camp of the 10th Legion was pitched upon the Mount of Olives. The numbers given by Josephus may not be correct within a great many thousands; there is reason enough, however, to believe that, within limits very much narrower than some of his readers are disposed to believe, his numbers may be fairly depended on. After all, it matters little enough what the numbers really were; and even if we let them be what any one chooses to call them, there yet remains no doubt that the sufferings of the people were very cruel, and that, of all wretched and bloody sieges in the world’s history, few, if any, have been more wretched or more bloody than the siege of Jerusalem by Titus.

[9]. Fergusson’s Art. ‘Jerusalem,’ Biblical Dictionary.

[10]. Taking the shape of the city to be circular and 33 stadia in circumference (it was more nearly circular than square), we find its area to have been rather more than 3,500,000 square yards. This, at 30 square yards to one person, gives about 120,000 for the ordinary population. And there were extensive gardens and numerous villas to the north and east which contained another population altogether quite impossible to estimate. And it must not be forgotten that Cestius (Joseph. ‘Bell. Jud.’ vi. ix. 3) caused an estimate to be made, a very few years before the siege, of the numbers actually present at the Passover, and that the official return was 2,560,500 persons. The whole question is clearly stated by Mr. Williams (‘Holy City,’ vol. i. p. 481). And, as he points out very justly, it is not a question how many would be comfortably accommodated in Jerusalem, but how many were actually crammed into it.

The people knew full well, of course, that the Romans were coming. Fear was upon all, and expectation of things great and terrible. As in all times of general excitement, signs were reported to have been seen in the heavens, and portents, which, however, might be read both ways, were observed. A star shaped like a sword, and a comet, stood over the city for a whole year. A great light had shone on the altar at the ninth hour of the night. A heifer, led up to be sacrificed, brought forth a lamb in the midst of the Temple. The eastern gate of the inner court, so heavy that it required twenty men to move it, flew open of its own accord in the night. Chariots and troops of soldiers in armour were seen running about in the clouds, and surrounding cities. When the priests were one night busy in their sacred offices, they felt the earth quaking beneath them, and heard a cry, as of a great multitude, “Let us remove hence!” And always up and down the city wandered Jesus, the son of Ananus, crying, “Woe, woe to Jerusalem!” until the siege began in earnest, when he ceased; for being on the wall, he cried, “Woe, woe to the city again! and to the people, and to the holy House!” and then, as he added, “Woe, woe to myself also!” a stone from one of the engines smote him and he died.

Titus posted the 10th Legion on the Mount of Olives, and the 12th and 15th on Mount Scopus, the 5th remaining some little distance behind. As the 10th were engaged in pitching their camp, the Jews, whose leaders had hastily patched up a kind of peace, suddenly sallied forth from the eastern gate, and marching across the valley of the Kedron, charged the Romans before they had time to form in battle. | April 11.| Titus himself brought a chosen body to their relief, and the Jews were, with great difficulty, driven back.

The next four days were spent in clearing the ground to the north of the city, the only part where an attack could be made. “They[^[11]] threw down the hedges and walls which the people had made about their gardens and groves of trees, and cut down the fruit-trees which lay between them and the wall of the city.”

[11]. Joseph. ‘Bell. Jud.’ v. iii. 2.

The Jews, furious at sight of this destruction, made a sally, pretending at first to be outcasts from the city, and hiding their weapons until they were close upon the enemy. On this occasion the Romans were utterly routed, and fled, pursued by the Jews “as far as Helen’s monument.” It was a gleam of sunshine, and nearly the only gleam that fell to the lot of the besieged. Titus removed his camp to the north side of the city, and, leaving the 10th still on the Mount of Olives, placed the 5th on the west of the city, over against the towers of Hippicus and Pharsaelus, and the 12th and 15th on the north. A cordon of men, seven deep, was drawn round the north and west of the city. This must have taken some twenty-five thousand men to effect.

April 23.

On the morning of the Passover, John contrived—taking advantage of the permission freely granted to all who chose to enter the Temple unarmed—to send in his own men, choosing those whose features were not known to Eleazar’s followers, with concealed weapons. Directly they got into the Inner Temple, they made an attack on the men of the opposite faction. A good many were slaughtered, and the rest, finding it best to yield, made terms with their conquerors, Eleazar’s life being spared. There now remained only two factions in the city, Simon holding the strongest place—the Palace of Herod, which commanded the Upper Town—and John the Temple Fortress, without which the Lower Town could not be taken.

It was determined to begin the assault with the north-western part of the wall, that part of it where the valley turns in a north-westerly direction and leaves a level space between the wall and its own course. The engines used by the Romans were those always employed in the conduct of a siege—the ballistæ, the towers, and the battering rams. Then banks were constructed, on each of which was a tower and a ram. In the construction of these last all the trees round Jerusalem were cut down. Nor have they ever been replanted, and a thousand years later on the siege of the city by the Crusaders, only inferior in horror to that of Titus, nearly miscarried for want of timber to construct the towers of assault.

As soon as the banks were sufficiently advanced the battering rams were mounted and the assault commenced. The Jews, terrified by the thunder of the rams against the city, annoyed, too, by the stones which came into the city from the ballistæ, joined their forces and tried a sortie from a secret gate near Hippicus. Their object was to destroy the machines by fire; and in this they well-nigh succeeded, fighting with a desperation and courage which no Roman troops had ever before experienced. Titus himself was in the conflict; he killed twelve Jews with his own hands; but the Romans would have given way had it not been for the reinforcement of some Alexandrian troops who came up at the right moment and drove back the Jews.

On the fifteenth day of the siege the biggest battering ram, “Nikon,” the Conqueror, effected a breach in the outer wall. The Jews, panic-stricken, forgot their wonted courage and took refuge within the second wall. Titus became therefore master of Bezetha, in the New Town; forming about a third of the city.

As nothing is said about the population of this, which was probably only a suburb and never actually filled with people till the siege began, we may suppose that very early in the assault they hastened out of reach of the ballistæ and arrows by fleeing to the inner city. And by this time a fortnight of the siege had passed away and already their numbers were grievously thinned by starvation.

Between the palace of Herod and the Temple area there stretched the second wall across the Tyropœon valley, which was filled, before the faction fights of Simon and John, with houses of the lower sort of people. This was the most densely populated part of the city. The wall which defended it was not so strong as the rest of the fortifications, and in five days, including an unsuccessful attempt to storm the palace of Herod, a breach was effected and the Romans poured into the town, Titus at their head.

In hopes of detaching the people from the soldiers, Titus ordered that no houses should be destroyed, no property pillaged, and the lives of the people spared. It was an act of mercy which the fierce passions of the Jews interpreted as a sign of weakness, and renewing their contest, fighting hand to hand in the streets, from the houses, from the walls, they beat the Romans back, and recaptured their wall, filling the breach with their own bodies. The battle lasted for four days more when Titus, entering again, threw down the whole northern part of the wall and became master of the whole Lower Town.

Partly to give his troops rest, partly to exhibit his power before the Jews, Titus gave orders that the paying of the troops should be made the opportunity for a review of the whole army almost under the walls of the city, and in full view of the besieged. The pageant lasted four days, during which there was a grand march-past of the splendid Roman troops, with burnished armour and weapons, and in full uniform.

“So the soldiers, according to custom, opened the cases where their arms before lay covered, and marched with their breastplates on; as did the horsemen lead the horses in their fine trappings.... The whole of the old wall and the north side of the Temple were full of spectators, and one might see the houses full of such as looked at them; nor was there any part of the city which was not covered over with their multitudes; nay, a great consternation seized upon the hardiest of the Jews themselves, when they saw all the army in the same place, together with the success of their arms and the good order of the men.”[^[12]]

[12]. Joseph. ‘Bell. Jud.’ v. ix. 1.

The Jews saw and trembled. But they did not submit. There could be no longer any hope. The multitude, pent up in limits too narrow for one-tenth of their number, daily obtained more room by death, for they died by thousands. The bodies were thrown out into the valleys, where they lay rotting, a loathsome mass. Roaming bands of soldiers went up and down the city looking for food. When they came upon a man who looked fat and well-fed they tortured him till he told the secret of his store: to be starving or to appear to be starving was the only safety: and “now,” says Josephus, “all hope of escaping was cut off from the Jews, together with their liberty of going out of the city. Then did the famine widen its progress, and devoured the people by whole houses and families; the upper rooms were full of women and children that were dying by famine; and the lanes of the city were full of the dead bodies of the aged; the children also and the young men wandered about the market-places like shadows, all swelled with the famine, and fell down dead wheresoever their misery seized them. As for burying them, those that were sick themselves were not able to do it; and those that were hearty and well, were deterred from doing it by the great multitude of those dead bodies, and by the uncertainty there was how soon they should die themselves; for many died as they were burying others, and many went to their coffins before that fatal hour was come! Nor was there any lamentation made under these calamities, nor were heard any mournful complaints; but the famine confounded all natural passions; for those who were just going to die, looked upon those that were gone to their rest before them with dry eyes and open mouths. A deep silence also, and a kind of deadly night, had seized upon the city; while yet the robbers were still more terrible than these miseries were themselves; for they brake open those houses which were no other than graves of dead bodies, and plundered them of what they had; and carrying off the coverings of their bodies, went out laughing, and tried the points of their swords on their dead bodies; and, in order to prove what mettle they were made of, they thrust some of those through that still lay alive upon the ground; but for those that entreated them to lend them their right hand, and their sword to despatch them, they were too proud to grant their requests, and left them to be consumed by the famine. Now every one of these died with their eyes fixed upon the Temple. Children pulled the very morsels that their fathers were eating out of their very mouths, and what was still more to be pitied, so did the mothers do as to their infants; and when those that were most dear were perishing under their hands, they were not ashamed to take from them the very last drops that might preserve their lives; and while they ate after this manner, yet were they not concealed in so doing; but the seditious everywhere came upon them immediately, and snatched away from them what they had gotten from others; for when they saw any house shut up, this was to them a signal that the people within had gotten some food; whereupon they broke open the doors, and ran in, and took pieces of what they were eating, almost up out of their very throats, and this by force: the old men, who held their food fast, were beaten; and if the women hid what they had within their hands, their hair was torn for so doing; nor was there any commiseration shown either to the aged or to infants, but they lifted up children from the ground as they hung upon the morsels they had gotten, and shook them down upon the floor; but still were they more barbarously cruel to those that had prevented their coming in, and had actually swallowed down what they were going to seize upon, as if they had been unjustly defrauded of their right. They also invented terrible methods of torment to discover where any food was, and a man was forced to bear what it is terrible even to hear, in order to make him confess that he had but one loaf of bread, or that he might discover a handful of barley-meal that was concealed; this was done when these tormentors were not themselves hungry; for the thing had been less barbarous had necessity forced them to it; but it was done to keep their madness in exercise, and as making preparation of provisions for themselves for the following days.”

At night the miserable wretches would steal into the ravines, those valleys where the dead bodies of their children, their wives, and kin, were lying in putrefying masses, to gather roots which might serve for food. The lot of these was pitiable indeed. If they remained outside they were captured by the Romans, and crucified, sometimes five hundred in a morning, in full view of the battlements: if they went back laden with a few poor roots of the earth, they were robbed by the soldiers at the gate, and sent home again to their starving children, starving themselves, and unable to help them.

The cruelty of Titus, designed to terrify the Jews, only stimulated them to fresh courage. Why, indeed, should they surrender? Death was certain for all; it was better to die fighting, to kill one of the enemy at least, than to die amid the jeers of the triumphant soldiers. Besides, we must remember that they were defending their sacred mountain, their Temple, the place to which every Jew’s heart looked with pride and fondness, whither turned the eyes of those who died with a sort of sad reproach. Simon and John were united in this feeling alone—that it was the highest duty of a Jew to fight for his country. The portraits of these two commanders have been drawn by an enemy’s hand. We must remember that the prolonged resistance of the Jews was a standing reproof to Josephus, who had been defeated, captured, and taken into favour. No epithets, on his part, can be too strong to hurl at John and Simon. It is impossible now to know what were the real characters of these men, whether they were religious patriots, or whether they were filled with the basest and most selfish motives. One thing is quite certain and may be said of both: if John hated Simon much, he loved the city more. Neither, at the worst moment, hinted at a surrender of the town; neither tried to curry favour for himself by compassing the fall of his adversary.

And the Jews, though emaciated by hunger, reeling and fainting for weakness, were yet full of courage and resource. While Titus was spending seventeen days of arduous labour in getting ready his new banks against the Temple, the Jews were busy burrowing beneath his feet; and when the rams had been mounted and already were beginning to play, a subterranean rumbling was heard, and the works of weeks fell suddenly to the ground.

“The Romans had much ado to finish their banks after labouring hard for seventeen days continually. There were now four great banks raised, one of which was at the tower of Antonia; this was raised by the 5th Legion, over against the middle of that pool which was called Struthius. Another was cast up by the 12th Legion, at the distance of about twenty cubits from the other. But the labours of the 10th legion, which lay a great way off these, were on the north quarter, and at the pool called Amygdalon; as was that of the 15th legion, about thirty cubits from it, and at the high priest’s monument. And now, when the engines were brought, John had from within undermined the space that was over-against the tower of Antonia, as far as the banks themselves, and had supported the ground over the mine with beams laid across one another, whereby the Roman works stood upon an uncertain foundation. Then did he order such materials to be brought in as were daubed over with pitch and bitumen, and set them on fire; and as the cross beams that supported the banks were burning, the ditch yielded on the sudden, and the banks were shaken down, and fell into the ditch with a prodigious noise. Now at the first there arose a very thick smoke and dust, as the fire was choked with the fall of the bank; but as the suffocated materials were now gradually consumed, a flame brake out; on which sudden appearance of the flame a consternation fell upon the Romans, and the shrewdness of the contrivance discouraged them; and indeed, this accident coming upon them at a time when they thought they had already gained their point, cooled their hopes for the time to come. They also thought it would be to no purpose to take the pains to extinguish the fire, since, if it were extinguished, the banks were swallowed up already [and become useless] to them.”

The other banks against the west wall were not more fortunate. For Simon’s soldiers, with torches in their hands, rushed out suddenly when the engines were beginning to shake the walls. They seized the iron of the engines, which was red hot, and despite this held them till the wood was consumed. The Romans retreated: the guards, who would not desert their post, fell in numbers, and Titus found his whole army wavering under the attacks of a half-starved and haggard mob, whose courage arose from despair. And the engines had all been burned, the labour of three weeks gone. Titus held a council to decide what should next be done. It was resolved, on his own suggestion, that a wall of circumvallation should be raised round the city, and that a strict blockade, cutting off all communication with the country, should be established, until starvation should force a surrender.

The wall, which was probably little more than a breastwork, though strong and solid, was completed, together with thirteen external redoubts, in three days,[^[13]] every soldier giving his labour. No attempt seems to have been made by the Jews to prevent or hinder the work. Probably they were too weak to attempt any more sorties. A strict watch was set by the Romans—up to this time the blockade does not seem to have been complete—and no one was allowed to approach the wall. And now the last feeble resource of the Jews, the furtive gathering of roots under the city walls, was denied them; and the sufferings of the besieged became too great for any historian to relate. Titus himself, stoic though he was, and resolute to succeed in spite of any suffering, called God to witness, with tears in his eyes, that this was not his doing.

[13]. This alone is sufficient to prove the extent of Titus’s army. An army of thirty thousand would be utterly unable to accomplish such a work in three days.

Even the obstinacy of the Jews gave way under these sufferings, and more than one attempt was made to introduce the Romans. Matthias opened a communication with the enemy. He was detected, and, with three sons, was executed. One Judas, the son of Judas, who was in command of a tower in the Upper City, concerted with ten of his men, and invited the Romans to come up and take the tower. Had Titus at once ordered a troop to mount, the Upper City might have been easily taken. But he had been too often deceived by feints, and hesitated. The plot was discovered, and Judas, with his ten fellows, was hurled over the ramparts at the feet of the Romans.

It was then that Josephus, whom of all men the besieged hated, was wounded in the head, but not seriously, by a stone. The Jews made a tremendous acclamation at seeing this, and sallied forth for a sortie, in the excess of their joy. Josephus, senseless, was taken up and conveyed away, but the next day reappeared and once more offered the clemency of Titus to those who would come out. The hatred which his countrymen bore to Josephus, as to an apostate, natural enough, shows remarkably the love of justice which in all times has distinguished the Jew. His father and mother were in the city. They were not, till late in the siege, interfered with in any way: and his father was set in prison at last, more, apparently, to vex his son than with any idea of doing him an injury.[^[14]]

The miserable state of the city drove hundreds to desert. They came down from the walls, or they made a pretended sortie and passed over to the Romans; but here a worse fate accompanied them, in spite of Josephus’s promises, for Josephus had not reckoned on the expectation that the Jews, famishing and mad for food, would, as proved the case, cause their own death by over-eating at first. And a more terrible danger awaited them. It was rumoured about that the deserters swallowed their gold before leaving the city, and the auxiliaries in the Roman camp, Arabians and Syrians, seized the suppliants, and fairly cut them open to find the gold. And though Titus was incensed when he heard of it, and prohibited it strictly, he could not wholly stop the practice, and the knowledge of this cruelty getting into the city stopped many who would otherwise have escaped: they remained to die. One of those who kept the register of burials and paid the bearers of the dead, told Josephus that out of his gate alone 115,880 bodies had been thrown since the siege began, and many citizens, whose word could be depended on, estimated the number who had died at 600,000.

[14]. Josephus narrates how his mother wept at the false report of his death, and quotes with complacency her lamentation that she had brought so distinguished a man into the world for so early a death.

Banks, meanwhile, were gradually rising against the fortress of Antonia. The Romans had swept the country clear of trees for ninety furlongs round to find timber for their construction: they took twenty-one days to complete, and were four in number. The besieged no longer made the same resistance. Their courage, says Josephus, was no longer Jewish, “for they failed in what is peculiar to our nation, in boldness, violence of assault, and running upon the enemy all together ... but they now went out in a more languid manner than before ... and they reproached one another for cowardice, and so retired without doing anything.” The attacks of the enemy were, however, courageously defended. For a whole day the Romans endeavoured with rams to shake the wall, and with crows and picks to undermine its foundations. Darkness made them withdraw, and during the night the wall, which had been grievously shaken, fell of its own accord.

But even this calamity had been foreseen by the defenders, and, to the astonishment and even dismay of Titus, a new wall was found built up behind the old, and the Jews upon it, ready to defend it with their old spirit. Titus exhorted his soldiers, who were getting dejected at the renewal of the enemy’s obstinacy, and offered the highest rewards to him who would first mount the wall. His exhortation, like the rest of the speeches in Josephus, is written after the grand historic style, and embodies all those sentiments which a general ought to feel under the circumstances, together with a verbosity and length quite sufficient to deprive it of all hortatory effect.

One Sabinus, with only eleven others, made the attempt. He alone reached the top of the wall, and after a gallant fight was killed by the Jews. His followers were also either killed or wounded. Two days afterwards “twelve of the men who were in the front,” to give the story in Josephus’s own words, “got together, and calling to them the standard-bearer of the fifth legion and two others of a troop of horse, and one trumpeter, went out noiselessly about the ninth hour of the night through the ruins to the tower of Antonia. They found the guards of the place asleep, cut their throats, got possession of the wall, and ordered the trumpeter to sound his trumpet. Upon this the rest of the guard got up suddenly and ran away before anybody could see how many they were who had got into the tower.” Titus heard the signal and came to the place. The Jews, in their haste to escape, fell themselves into the mine which John had dug under the banks; they rallied again, however, at the entrance of the Temple, and the most determined fight, in a narrow and confined space, took place there. The Temple was not to fall quite yet, and after a whole day’s battle the Romans had to fall back, masters, however, of Antonia.

July 17.

But on that very day the daily sacrifice failed for the first time, and with it the spirit of the starving besieged.

The end, now, was not far off. In seven days nearly the whole of Antonia, excepting the south-east tower, was pulled down and a broad way opened for the Roman army to march to the attack of the Temple. Cloisters, as we have seen, united the fortress with the Temple, and along these either on the flat roofs or along the galleries.[^[15]]

[15]. Mr. Lewin makes this very clear. It seems to us to be made still clearer by taking his graphic description and applying it to any plan which follows the old traditions.

And now many of the priests and higher classes deserted the falling city and threw themselves upon the clemency of Titus. They were received with kindness and sent to Gophna. John’s last resource was to pretend they had all been murdered, and Titus was obliged to parade them before the walls to satisfy the suspicions thus raised.

An attempt was made to take the Temple by a night attack. This, however, failed, and Titus foresaw the necessity of raising new banks. Fighting went on daily in the cloisters, until the Jews set fire to them, and occasional sorties were made by the besieged in hopes to catch the enemy at unguarded moments.

The banks were finished on the 1st of August. Titus ordered that they should be brought and set over against the western wall of the inner Temple. For six days the battering rams played against the masonry of the inner Temple, for by this time the beautiful cloisters which surrounded it, and ran from east to west, were all destroyed, and the inner Temple, a fortress in itself, stood naked and alone, the last refuge of John and his men. Had they yielded this at least would have been spared. But it was not to be. With a pertinacity which had no longer any hope in it the obstinate zealots held out. On the north side the Romans undermined the gate, but could not bring it down; they brought ladders and endeavoured to tunnel the wall. The Jews allowed them to mount, and then killed every one and captured their ensigns. And thus it was that Titus, fearing perhaps that the spirit of his own troops would give way, ordered the northern gate to be set on fire. This was done, and the cloisters, not those of the outer court, but of the inner, were soon destroyed. But Titus resolved still to save the Holy of Holies.

Aug. 9.

It was the day on which Nebuchadnezzar had burned the Temple of Solomon. The Jews made another sortie, their last but one. They could effect nothing, and retired after five hours’ fighting into their stronghold, the desecrated Temple, on whose altar no more sacrifices were now made, or ever would be made again.

Titus retired to Antonia, resolving to take the place the next day; but the Jews would not wait so long. They made a last sortie, which was ineffectual. “The Romans put the Jews to flight, and proceeded as far as the holy House itself. At which time one of the soldiers, without staying for any orders, and without any concern or dread upon him at so great an undertaking, and being hurried on by a certain divine fury, snatched somewhat out of the materials that were on fire, and being lifted up by another soldier, set fire to a golden window, through which there was a passage to the rooms that were round about the holy House, on the north side of it. As the flames went upward the Jews made a great clamour, such as so mighty an affliction required, and ran together to prevent it; and now they spared not their lives any longer, nor suffered anything to restrain their force, since that holy House was perishing, for whose sake it was that they kept such a guard about it.”[^[16]]

[16]. Joseph. vi. iv. 5.

Titus, with all his staff, hastened to save what he could. He exhorted the soldiers to spare the building. He stood in the Holy of Holies itself, and beat back the soldiers who were pressing to the work of destruction. But in vain: one of the soldiers threw a torch upon the gateway of the sanctuary, and in a moment the fate of the building was sealed. And while the flames mounted higher the carnage of the poor wretches within went on. None was spared; ten thousand were killed that were found there—children, old men, priests and profane persons, all alike; six thousand fled to the roof of the royal cloister, that glorious building which crowned the Temple wall to the south, stretching from “Robinson’s Arch” to the valley of the Kedron. The Romans fired that too, and the whole of the multitude perished together.

“One would have thought that the hill itself, on which the Temple stood, was seething hot, full of fire in every part; that the blood was larger in quantity than the fire; and those that were slain more in number than those that slew them, for the ground nowhere appeared visible for the dead bodies that lay on it; but the soldiers went over heaps of these bodies as they ran from such as fled from them.”[^[17]]

[17]. Joseph. vi. v. 1.

The really guilty among the Jews, the fighting men, had cut their way through the Romans and fled to the upper city. A few priests either hid themselves in secret chambers or crouched upon the top of the wall. On the fifth day they surrendered, being starving. Titus ordered them to execution.

And so the Temple of Herod fell.

The Roman army flocked into the ruins of the Temple which it had cost them so many lives to take; sacrifices were offered, and Titus was saluted as Imperator. An immense spoil was found there, not only from the sacred vessels of gold, but from the treasury, in which vast sums had been accumulated. The upper town, Zion, still held out. Titus demanded a parley. Standing on that bridge, the ruined stones of which were found by Captain Warren lying eighty feet below the surface of the ground, he for the last time offered terms to the insurgents. He explained that they could no longer entertain any hope, even the slightest, of safety, and renewed his offers of clemency to those who should yield.

But the offers of Titus were supposed to be the effect of weakness. Again the insurgents, now indeed possessed with a divine madness, declined them. They demanded that they might be allowed to march out with all their arms, and what would now be called the honours of war. This proposition from a handful of starved soldiers surrounded by the ruins of all that they held dear, with a triumphant army on all sides, was too monstrous to be accepted even by the most clement of conquerors, and Titus resolved with reluctance on the destruction of the whole people. The royal family of Adiabene, descendants of Queen Helena, had not left Jerusalem during the siege; on the contrary, they had lent every aid in their power to the Jews. Now, however, seeing that no hope was to be got from any but Titus, they went over in a body to the Romans and prayed for mercy. Out of consideration for their royal blood this was granted. But the Jews revenged the fainthearted conduct of these royal proselytes by an incursion into the lower New Town (on the Hill of Ophel), burning their palace and sacking the rest of the town. The last part of the siege, which Mr. Lewin finely calls the fifth act of a bloody tragedy, was commenced by the usual methods of raising banks, all attempts to carry the Upper City by assault being hopeless. These were raised over against the Palace of Herod on the west, and at a point probably opposite Robinson’s Arch in the east. And now, at the last moment, no longer sustained by any hopes of miraculous interference,—for if their God had allowed his Temple to fall, why should he be expected to spare the citadel?—the Jews lost all courage and began to desert in vast numbers. The Idumeans, finding that Simon and John remained firm in their resolution of defence to the last, sent five of their chiefs to open negotiations on their own account. Simon and John discovered the plot; the five commissioners were executed; care was taken to entrust the walls to trusty guards, but thousands of the people managed to escape. The Romans began by slaying the fugitives, but, tired of slaughter, reserved them as prisoners to be sold for slaves. Those who were too old or too worn out by suffering to be of any use they sent away to wander about the mountains, and live or die. One priest obtained his life by giving up to Titus the sacred vessels of the Temple, and another by showing where the treasures were—the vestments of the priests, and the vast stores of spices which had been used for burning incense daily.

Sept. 8.

It took eighteen days to complete the siege-works. At last the banks were ready to receive the battering-rams, and these were placed in position. But little defence was made. Panic-stricken and cowering, the hapless Jews awaited the breach in the wall, and the incoming of the enemy. Simon and John, with what force they could collect, abandoned the towers, and rushed to attempt an escape over Titus’s wall of circumvallation at the south. It was hopeless. They were beaten back; the leaders hid themselves in the subterranean chambers with which Jerusalem was honeycombed, and the rest stood still to be killed. The Romans, pouring into the town, began by slaying all indiscriminately. Tiring of butchery they turned their thoughts to plunder; but the houses were filled with dead and putrefying corpses, so that they stood in horror at the sight, and went out without touching anything. “But although they had this commiseration for such as were destroyed in this manner, yet had they not the same for those that were still alive; and they ran every one through whom they met with, and obstructed the streets with dead bodies, and made the whole city run with blood to such a degree, indeed, that the fire of many of the houses was quenched with their men’s blood.”

And then they set fire to the houses, and all was over.

As for the prisoners who remained alive, they were destined to the usual fate of slaves. To fight as gladiators; to afford sport among the wild beasts in the theatres; and to work for life in the mines, was their miserable lot. Woe, indeed, to the conquered in those old wars, where defeat meant death, whose least cruel form was the stroke of the headsman, or, worse than death, life, whose least miserable portion was perpetual slavery in the mines. It would have been well had Josephus, after narrating the scenes which he tells so well, gone to visit these his miserable fellow-countrymen in slavery, and described for us, if he could, the wretchedness of their after-life, the unspeakable degradation and misery which the Jew, more than any other man, would feel, in his condition of slavery. Their history began with the slavery in Egypt: to these unfortunate captives it would seem as if it was to end with slavery in Egypt.

The Romans, knowing that Jerusalem had a sort of subterranean city of excavated chambers beneath it, proceeded to search for hiding insurgents and for hidden wealth. The chambers were, like the houses, often full of dead bodies. They found fugitives in some of them; these they put to death. In others they found treasure; in others they found corpses.

Simon and John were not among the prisoners, nor were they among the killed. John, several days after the capture of the city, came out voluntarily from his hiding-place, and gave himself up to Titus. He was reserved for the triumph. And then came the grand day of rejoicing for the conquerors. Titus made a long and laudatory oration to the army, adjudged promotions, coronets, necklaces, and other prizes of valour, and with lavish hand distributed the spoils among his soldiers. For three days the troops banqueted and rejoiced. Then Titus broke up his camp, and departed for Cæsarea with the 5th and 15th Legions, leaving the 10th, under Terentius Rufus, to guard the city, and sending the 12th to the banks of the Euphrates.[^[18]]

[18]. Joseph. vii. v. 3.

It was not till October that Simon gave himself up. To prevent being killed at once, he emerged by night from his hiding-place dressed in a long white robe, so that the astonished soldiers took him for a ghost. “I am Simon, son of Gioras,” he cried. “Call hither your general.” Terentius received him as a prisoner, and sent him to Titus.

One of the most important things in the conduct of a triumph at Rome was the execution of the general of the vanquished army. Titus had both generals to grace his procession. He assigned to Simon the post of honour. At the foot of the Capitoline Hill the intrepid Jew was led to the block, with a halter round his neck, and scourged cruelly. He met his death with the same undaunted courage as he had defended his city. John of Giscala remained a prisoner for life.

No historian, except perhaps Milman, whose sympathies are ever with the fallen cause, seems to us to have done justice, not only to the bravery and heroism of the Jews, but also to the heroism of their leaders. Their leaders have been described by an enemy and a rival—that Josephus, son of Matthias, who, after making an heroic resistance at Jotapata, obtained his life by pretending to be a prophet, and continued in favour with the conquerors by exhorting his fellow-countrymen to submission. That Simon and John were men stained with blood, violent, headstrong, we know well; but it does not seem to us that they were so bad and worthless as Josephus would have us to believe. After the siege fairly began they united their forces: we hear no more of the faction-fights. If their soldiers committed excesses and cruelties, they were chiefly for food; and everything was to give way to the preservation of the defenders. Moreover, discipline was not thought of among the Jews, whose notion of fighting was chiefly a blind and headlong rush. But we must again recall the religious side of the defence. To the Jew his Temple was more, far more, than Mecca can ever be to a Mohammedan. It had traditions far higher and more divine. The awful presence of Jehovah had filled the sanctuary as with a cloud. His angels had been seen on the sacred hill. There, for generation after generation, the sacrifice had been offered, the feast kept, the unsullied faith maintained. The Temple was a standing monument to remind them by whose aid they had escaped captivity; it taught them perpetually that freedom was the noblest thing a man can have; it was the glorious memorial of a glorious history; it was a reminder that theirs was a nation set apart from the rest of the world. To defend the Temple from outrage and pollution was indeed the bounden duty of every Jew. And these Romans, what would they do with it? Had they not the keys of the treasury where the vestments of the priests were laid up? Had not one of their emperors ordered a statue of himself to be set up, an impious idol, in the very Holy of Holies?

A handful of men, they offered war to the mistress of the world. True, the insurgents were rude and unlettered, who knew nothing of Rome and her power. Even if they had known all that Rome could do, it would have mattered nothing, for they were fighting for the defence of all that made life sweet to them; and they were sustained by false prophets, poor brainstruck visionaries, who saw the things they wished to see, and foretold what they wished to happen. God might interfere; the mighty arm which had protected them of old might protect them again. The camp of the Romans might be destroyed like the camp of the Assyrians; and because these things might happen, it was a natural step, to an excited and imaginative people, to prophesy that they would happen. But when the time passed by, when none of these things came to pass, and the deluded multitude hoped that submission would bring safety at least, the tenacity of their leaders held them chained to a hopeless defence. Whether Simon and John fought on with a stronger faith, and still in hope that the arm of the Lord would be stretched out, or whether they fought on with the desperate courage of soldiers who preferred death by battle to death by execution, it is impossible now to say.

It has been suggested by Josephus, as well as by modern writers, that the courage of the Jews was shaken by predictions, omens, and rumours; but if there were predictions of disaster, there were also predictions of triumph. If Jesus, whom a few called Christ, had prophesied the coming fall of the city, there were others who had announced the fall of the enemy. Omens could be read either way. If a sword-shaped comet hung in the sky, who could deny that the sword impended over the heads of the Romans? And when the gate of the Temple flew open, did it not announce the opening of the gates for the triumph of the faithful? In that wild, unsettled time, when there was nothing certain, nothing stable, the very faith of the people would be intensified by these prophecies of disaster; their courage would be strengthened by the gloomy foretellers of defeat; and, as the Trojans fought none the worse because Cassandra was with them, so the Jews fought none the worse because voices were whispering among them about the prophecies of him whom some recognised as the Messiah.

Let us, at least, award them the meed of praise for a courage which has never been equalled. Let us acknowledge that, in all the history of the world, if there has been no siege more bloody and tragic, so there has been no city more fiercely contested, more obstinately defended; and though we may believe that the fall of Jerusalem had been distinctly prophesied by our Lord, we must not therefore look on the Jews as the blind and fated victims of prophecy. The city fell, not in order to fulfil prophecy, but because the Jews were, as they ever had been, a turbulent, self-willed race; because they were undisciplined, because they loved freedom above everything else in the world except their religion; and their religion was the ritual and the Temple.

CHAPTER III.
FROM TITUS TO OMAR.

“Wild Hours, that fly with hope and fear,

If all your office had to do

With old results that look like new,

If this were all your mission here,

“To draw, to sheathe a useless sword,

To fool the crowd with glorious lies,

To cleave a creed in sects and cries,

To change the bearing of a word.

* * * * * * *

“Why then my scorn might well descend

On you and yours. I see in part

That all, as in some piece of art,

Is toil co-operant to an end.”

In Memoriam.

Its Temple destroyed, its people killed, led captive, or dispersed, Jerusalem must have presented, for the next fifty years, at least, a dreary and desolate appearance. At first its only inhabitants were the Roman garrison, but gradually the Jews came dropping in, at first, we may suppose, on sufferance and good behaviour. When the Christians returned is not certain. Eusebius says that directly after the destruction of Jerusalem, they assembled together and chose Simeon as their bishop; but he does not say that they gathered together in Jerusalem. All the traditions represent them as returning very soon after the siege. As for the Jews, the destruction of the Temple—that symbol of the law—only made them more scrupulous in their obedience to the Law. The great school of Gamaliel was set up at Jabneh, where lectures were delivered on all the minutiæ of Rabbinical teaching, and the Jews were instructed how to win the favour of Jehovah by carrying out to its last letter the smallest details of the Law. And because this, minute as it was, did not comprehend all the details of life, there arose a caste, recruited from all tribes and families alike, which became more holy than that of the priests and Levites—the caste of the Rabbis, the students and interpreters of the Law. The Rabbi had, besides the written law, the Tradition, Masora, or Cabala, which was pretended to have been also given to Moses on Mount Sinai, and to have been handed down in an unbroken line through the heads of the Sanhedrim. The growth of the Rabbinical power does not date from the destruction of the Temple; it had been slowly developing itself for many centuries before that event. In the synagogues which were scattered all over Palestine, and wherever the Jews could be got together, the learned Rabbi, with his profound knowledge of the Law, written and oral, had already, before the destruction of Jerusalem, taken the place of the priests and their sacrifices; so that, in spite of the fall of the Temple, the spiritual life of the Jews was by no means crushed out of them. Rather was it deepened and intensified, and their religious observances more and more invaded the material life. The Rabbinical tribunals usurped entire rule over the Jews. Like the Scotch elders, they had power to summon before them persons accused of immorality, persons who neglected their children, persons who violated details of the Law. They could also impose on offenders punishment by scourging, by censure, by interdict, by the cherem, or excommunication, which inflicted civil death, but for which pardon might be obtained on repentance and submission, and, lastly, by the fatal shammata, the final curse, after which there was no pardon possible: “Let nothing good come out of him; let his end be sudden; let all creatures become his enemies; let the whirlwind crush him; let fever and every other malady, and the edge of the sword, smite him; let his death be unforeseen, and drive him into outer darkness.”[^[19]] With this machinery of internal government, the Jews were not only united together and separated from the rest of the world, in each particular town, not only did they maintain their nationality and their religion, but, which was of much more importance to their conquerors, they were able to act in concert with each other, to demand redress together, to give help to each other, to rise in revolt together.

[19]. Milman, ‘Hist. of the Jews,’ iii. 146.

As for their treatment by the Romans, it is not certain that they were at first persecuted at all. A tax of two drachms was levied by Vespasian on every Jew for the rebuilding of the Temple of Jupiter Capitolinus, and was exacted with the greatest rigour. He also searched everywhere for descendants of the House of David, in order to extinguish the royal line altogether; otherwise there is no evidence to show that the Jews were ill-treated by the conquerors, but rather the contrary, because the policy of the Romans was always to treat the conquered nations with consideration and humanity, and to extend to them the privilege of citizenship. But whether they were persecuted or not, and whatever the cause, the whole of the Jews in Egypt, Cyrene, Babylonia, and Judæa, rose in universal revolt in the time of Trajan. Perhaps they had experienced some affront to their religion; perhaps they had been persecuted with the Christians; perhaps they expected the Messiah; perhaps their fanatical and turbulent spirit was the cause of the rising; perhaps the stories told in the Rabbinical accounts contain some truth. In these it is related how the birthday of an Imperial Prince fell on the 9th of August, the anniversary of the taking of Jerusalem, and the Jews in Rome were wailing and lamenting while the rest of the world was rejoicing. Also, on another occasion, while the Imperial family were lamenting the death of a daughter, the Jews were celebrating, with the customary semblance of joy, their Feast of Lamps. Heavy persecution followed these unfortunate coincidences.

The hostility of the Jews was manifested against the Greeks rather than against the Romans. In Alexandria the Greeks massacred all the Jews. In return the Jews, under Lucuas and Andrew, spread themselves over the whole of Lower Egypt, and perpetrated ghastly atrocities. The Roman Governor, meantime, could do nothing for want of troops. In Cyprus the Jews are said to have killed two hundred and forty thousand of their fellow-citizens. Hadrian came to their rescue, and fairly swept the insurgents out of the island, where in memory of these troubles no Jew has ever since been allowed to reside. Martius Turbo quieted the insurrection in Cyrene, and then marched into Egypt, where he found Lucuas at the head of an enormous army. Mindful, as all Jewish insurgents, of his people’s traditions, and no doubt hoping for another miracle, Lucuas tried to pass by way of Suez into Palestine; but, no miracle being interposed, he and his men were all cut to pieces. Then the Jews of Mesopotamia rose in their turn, impatient of a change of masters which gave them the cold and stern Roman, in place of their friends, and sometimes coreligionists, the Parthians. The revolt was quelled by Lucius Quietus, who was appointed to the government of Judæa; and when Trajan died, and Hadrian ascended the throne, all the conquests in the East beyond the Euphrates were abandoned: the Jews across that river settled peacefully down with their old masters again; and henceforward the tranquillity of these trans-Euphrates Jews wonderfully contrasts with the turbulence and ferocity of their Syrian brethren. But Hadrian resolved to suppress this troublesome and turbulent Judaism altogether. He forbade circumcision, the reading of the Law, the observance of the Sabbaths; and he resolved to convert Jerusalem into a Roman colony. And then, because the Jews could no longer endure their indignities, and because before the dawn they ever looked for the darkest hour, the most cruel wrong, there arose Barcochebas, the “Son of the Star,” and led away their hearts, in the belief that he was indeed the Messiah. This, the last, was the wildest and the most bloodthirsty of all the Jewish revolts.

The Messiah, the rumour ran forth among all Jews in all lands, had come at last, and the prophecy of Balaam was fulfilled. The mission of the pretender was recognised by no less a person than Akiba, the greatest of living doctors, perhaps the greatest of all Jewish doctors. He, when he saw Barcochebas, exclaimed loudly, “Behold the Messiah!” “Akiba,” replied Rabbi Johannan Ben Torta, whose faith was perhaps as strong, but whose imagination was not so active as his learned brother’s, “the grass will be growing through your jaws before the Messiah comes.” But Akiba’s authority prevailed.

Rabbi Akiba, according to the story of the Rabbis, traced his descent from Sisera, through a Jewish mother. He was originally a poor shepherd boy, employed to tend the sheep belonging to a rich Jew named Calva Sheva. He fell in love with his master’s daughter, and was refused her hand on the ground of his poverty and lowness of condition. He married her secretly, went away and studied the Law. In course of time he came back to his master, followed, we are told, like Abelard, by twelve thousand disciples: he was a second time refused as a son-in-law. He went away again, but returned once more, this time with twenty-four thousand disciples, upon which Calva Sheva gave him his daughter and took him into favour. He is said to have been one hundred and twenty years of age when Barcochebas appeared. Probably he was at least well advanced in years. The adherence of Akiba to the rebel leader was doubtless the main cause of the hold which he obtained over his countrymen, for the authority of Akiba was greater than that of any other living Jew. Other pretenders had obtained followers, but not among the doctors learned in the law, not among such Rabbis as Akiba. When the mischief was done and, by the influence of Akiba, Barcochebas found himself at the head of two hundred thousand warriors, mad with religious zeal, Turnus Rufus, the new governor, seized and imprisoned the aged rabbi.[^[20]] He was brought out to trial. In the midst of the questioning Akiba remembered that it was the time for prayer, and with his usual calmness, in the presence of his judges, disregarding and heedless of their questions, he proceeded with his devotions. He was condemned to be flayed with iron hooks.

[20]. Other accounts say that he was taken prisoner in the taking of Jerusalem.

No one knows the origin and previous history of Barcochebas, nor how the insurrection first began. All kinds of legends were related of his prowess and personal strength. He was so strong that he would catch the stones thrown from the catapults with his feet, and hurl them back upon the enemy with force equal to that of the machines which cast them; he could breathe flames; he would, at first, admit into his ranks only those men who, to show their courage, endured to have a finger cut off, but was dissuaded from this, and ordered instead, and as a proof of strength, that no one should join his ranks who could not himself tear up a cedar of Lebanon with his own hands.

The first policy of the Jews was to hide their strength, for the insurrection was long in being prepared. They knew, and they alone, all the secrets of the caves, subterranean passages, and hidden communications with which their city and whole country were honeycombed. They knew, too, where were the places best fitted for strongholds, and secretly fortified them; so that when they appeared suddenly and unexpectedly as the aggressors, they became masters almost at one stroke of fifty strong places and nearly a thousand villages. The first thing they did was to take Jerusalem, which probably offered only the small resistance of a feeble garrison. Here, no doubt, they set up an altar again, and, after a fashion, rebuilt the Temple. Turnus Rufus, the Roman governor, whose troops were few, slaughtered the unoffending people all over Judæa, but was not strong enough to make head against the rebellion, which grew daily stronger. Then Julius Severus, sent for by Hadrian in haste, came with an overwhelming force, and, following the same plan as had been adopted by Vespasian, attacked their strong places in detail. Jerusalem was taken, the spirits of the insurgents being crushed by the falling in of the vaults on Mount Zion, and Barcochebas himself was slain. The rebels, in despair, changed his name to Bar Koziba, the “Son of a Lie,” and fled to Bether, their last stronghold, where they held out, under Rufus, the son of Barcochebas, for two years more. A story is told of its defence which shows at least how the hearts of the Jews were filled with the spirit of their old histories.[^[21]] Seeing the desperate state of things, Eliezer, the Rabbi, enjoined the besieged to seek their last resource in prayer to God. All day long he prayed, and all day long, while he prayed, the battle went in favour of the Jews. Then a treacherous Samaritan stole up to the Rabbi and whispered in his ear. The leader of the insurgents[^[22]] asked what he whispered. The Samaritan refused at first to tell, and then, with assumed reluctance, pretended that it was the answer to a secret message which Eliezer had sent to the Romans proposing capitulation. The Jewish leader, infuriated with this act of treason, ordered the Rabbi to be instantly executed. This was done, and then, there being no longer any one to pray, the tide of battle turned, and on the fatal 9th of August the fortress of Bether was taken and the slaughter of the insurgents accomplished. The horses of the Romans, we are told, were up to their girths in blood. An immense number fell in this war; Dio Cassius says five hundred and eighty thousand by the sword alone, not including those who fell by famine, disease, and fire. The fortress itself, when the last stand was made, whose position was long unknown, has been identified beyond a doubt by Mr. George Williams.[^[23]] It appeared as if Hadrian’s purpose was achieved and Judaism at last suppressed for ever. He turned Jerusalem into a Roman colony, calling it Ælia Capitolina, forbade any Jew on pain of death to appear even within sight of the city, and built a temple of Jupiter on the site of the Temple. On the site of the sepulchre of Christ, if indeed it was the site, was a temple to Venus, placed there, Eusebius would have us believe, in mockery of the Christian religion, and with a design to destroy the memory of the sepulchre. Meantime the Christians, who had suffered greatly during the revolt of Barcochebas, being tortured by the Jews and confounded with them by the Romans, hastened to separate themselves as much as possible from further possibility of confusion by electing a Gentile convert, Marcus, to the bishopric of Jerusalem. To this period may be referred the first springing up of that hatred of the Jews which afterwards led to such great and terrible persecutions.[^[24]]

[21]. Milman, iii. p. 122. See also Derenbourg, Hist. de la Palestine, chap. xxiv.

[22]. Milman says Barcochebas, but though all is uncertainty, it appears probable, as stated above, that he was dead already.

[23]. ‘Holy City,’ vol. i. p. 210.

[24]. An account of the Christian bishops, and of the controversies and discussion which harassed the church, will be found in Williams’s ‘Holy City.’ It may be as well to mention that throughout this work we have studiously refrained from touching, except where it was impossible to avoid doing so, on things ecclesiastical.

The history of the next hundred years presents nothing remarkable. The persecution of Diocletian raged throughout the East; the usual stories of miracles are recorded; a library was founded in Jerusalem by Bishop Alexander; and meantime the old name of the city was forgotten entirely out of its own country. So much was this the case, that a story is related of an Egyptian martyr who, on being asked the name of his city, replied that it was Jerusalem, meaning the heavenly Jerusalem. The judge had never heard of such a city, and ordered him to be tortured in order to ascertain the truth.

And now grew up the spirit of pilgrimage, and the superstition of sacred places began, or rather was grafted into the new religion from the old. Of the pilgrims of these early times we have to speak in another place. At present they interest us only that they brought about two events of the greatest importance to the history of the world and the future of the Christian Church—the building of Constantine’s church and the Invention of the Cross by Helena. Well would it have been in the interest of humanity if the cave of Christ’s sepulchre had never been discovered, and if the wood of the Cross had still remained buried in the earth.

The historians quarrel as much over the birthplace of Helena as that of Homer. She was the daughter of a Breton king named Coël; she was born in York; she was the daughter of an innkeeper at Drepanium, near Nicomedia; she was a native of Dalmatia, of Dacia, of Tarsus, of Edessa, of Treves. Whether she was ever married to Constantius does not appear. If she was, he deserted her for Theodora, the daughter-in-law of Maximian. But Constantius made his son, Constantine, by Helena, his legal heir, and presented him to the troops as his successor, and Constantine regarded his mother with the greatest affection, surrounded her with every outward sign of respect and dignity, granted her the title of Augusta, stamped her name on coins, and gave her name to divers towns. Helena was at this period a Christian, whether born in the new religion or a convert does not appear; nor is it clear that she had anything to do with the conversion of her son. This illustrious and Imperial convert, stained with the blood of his father-in-law, whom he strangled with his own hands, of his son, whom he sacrificed at the lying representations of his wife, and of that wife herself, whom he executed in revenge for the death of his son, was converted, we are informed by some historians, through a perception of the beauty and holiness of the teaching of Christ. Probably he saw in the Cross a magical power by which he could defeat his enemies. It was after the death of Crispus the Cæsar, Constantine’s son, that Helena, whose heart was broken by the murder of her grandson, went to Jerusalem to visit the sacred spots and witness the fulfilment of prophecy. On her way she delivered captives, relieved the oppressed, rewarded old soldiers, adorned Christian churches, and arrived in the Holy City laden with the blessings of a grateful people. And here she discovered the Cross in the following manner. Led by divine intimation, she instructed her people where to dig for it, and after removing the earth which the heathen had heaped round the spot, she found the Sepulchre itself, and close beside it the three crosses still lying together, and the tablet bearing the inscription which Pilate ordered to be written. The true Cross was picked out from the three by the method commonly pursued at this period, and always attended with satisfactory results. A noble lady lay sick with an incurable disease; all the crosses were brought to her bedside, and at the application of one, that on which our Lord suffered, she was immediately restored to perfect health. This is the account given by the writers of the following century; but not one of the contemporary writers relates the story, though Cyril, who was Bishop of Jerusalem from the year 748, alludes to the finding of the Cross. Eusebius preserves a total silence about it, a silence which to us is conclusive. The following is his account of the discovery of the Holy Sepulchre. (‘Life of Constantine,’ iii. 25.)

“After these things the pious emperor ... judged it incumbent on him to render the blessed locality of our Saviour’s resurrection an object of attraction and veneration to all. He issued immediate injunctions, therefore, for the erection in that spot of a house of prayer.

“It had been in time past the endeavour of impious men to consign to the darkness of oblivion that divine monument of immortality to which the radiant angel had descended from heaven and rolled away the stone for those who still had stony hearts.... This sacred cave certain impious and godless persons had thought to remove entirely from the eyes of men. Accordingly they brought a quantity of earth from a distance with much labour, and covered the entire spot; then, having raised this to a moderate height, they paved it with stone, concealing the holy cave beneath this massive mound. Then ... they prepare on the foundation a truly dreadful sepulchre of souls, by building a gloomy shrine of lifeless idols to the impure spirit whom they call Venus.... These devices of impious men against the truth had prevailed for a long time, nor had any one of the governors, or military commanders, or even of the emperors themselves, ever yet appeared with ability to destroy those daring impieties save only our prince ... as soon as his commands were issued these engines of deceit were cast down from their proud eminence to the very ground, and the dwelling-place of error was overthrown and utterly destroyed.

“Nor did the emperor’s zeal stop here; but he gave further orders that the materials of what was thus destroyed should be removed and thrown from the spot as far as possible; and this command was speedily executed. The emperor, however, was not satisfied with having proceeded thus far: once more, fired with holy ardour, he directed that the ground should be dug up to a considerable depth, and the soil which had been polluted by the foul impurities of demon worship transported to a far distant place.... But as soon as the original surface of the ground, beneath the covering of earth, appeared, immediately, and contrary to all expectation, the venerable and hallowed monument of our Saviour’s resurrection was discovered. Then, indeed, did this most holy cave present a faithful similitude of return to life, in that, after lying buried in darkness, it again emerged to light, and afforded to all who came to witness the sight a clear and visible proof of the wonders of which that spot had once been the scene.”

In other words; in the time of Constantine a report existed that the spot then occupied by a temple of Venus was the site of our Lord’s burial-place: Constantine took down the temple, meaning to build the church upon it: then, in removing the earth, supposed to be defiled by the idol worship which had taken place upon it, they found to their extreme astonishment the cave or tomb which is shown to this day. Then came the building of the Basilica.

“First of all,[^[25]] he adorned the sacred cave itself, as the chief part of the whole work, and the hallowed monument at which the angel, radiant with light, had once declared to all that regeneration which was first manifested in the Saviour’s person. This monument, therefore, as the chief part of the whole, the emperor’s zealous magnificence beautified with rare columns, and profusely enriched with the most splendid decorations of every kind.

[25]. Euseb. ‘Life of Constantine,’ iii. ch. xxxiii. et seq.

“The next object of his attention was a space of ground of great extent, and open to the pure air of heaven. This he adorned with a pavement of finely polished stone, and enclosed it on three sides with porticoes of great length. At the side opposite to the sepulchres, which was the eastern side, the church itself was erected; a noble work, rising to a vast height, and of great extent, both in length and breadth. The interior of this structure was floored with marble slabs of various colours; while the external surface of the walls, which shone with polished stone exactly fitted together, exhibited a degree of splendour in no respect inferior to that of marble. With regard to the roof, it was covered on the outside with lead, as a protection against the rains of winter. But the inner part of the roof, which was finished with sculptured fretwork, extended in a series of connected compartments, like a vast sea, over the whole church; and, being overlaid throughout with the purest gold, caused the entire building to glitter, as it were, with rays of light. Besides this were two porticoes on each side, with upper and lower ranges of pillars, corresponding in length with the church itself; and these had, also, their roofs ornamented with gold. Of these porticoes, those which were exterior to the church were supported by columns of great size, while those within these rested on piles of stone beautifully adorned on the surface. Three gates placed exactly east, were intended to receive those who entered the church.

“Opposite these gates the crowning part of the whole was the hemisphere, which rose to the very summit of the church. This was encircled by twelve columns (according to the number of the apostles of our Saviour), having their capitals embellished with silver bowls of great size, which the emperor himself presented as a splendid offering to his god.

“In the next place, he enclosed the atrium, which occupied the space leading to the entrance in front of the church. This comprehended, first, the court, then the porticoes on each side, and lastly the gates of the court. After these, in the midst of the open market-place, the entrance gates of the whole work, which were of exquisite workmanship, afforded to passers-by on the outside a view of the interior, which could not fail to excite astonishment.”

According, therefore, to the account of Eusebius, Constantine built one church, and only one. This was not over the sepulchre at all, but to the east of it, and separated from it by a space open to the heavens, the sepulchre itself being set about with pillars.

In the transport of enthusiasm which followed the conversion of Constantine, the Jews probably found it convenient to keep as quiet as possible. They held at this time exclusive possession of four large towns in Galilee where they governed themselves, or rather submitted to the government of the Rabbis. Attempts were made to convert them. Sylvester succeeded, it is related, in converting a number of them by a miracle. For a conference was held between the Christians and Jews in the presence of the Emperor himself. One of the Rabbis asked permission that an ox should be brought in. He whispered in the ear of the animal the ineffable name of God, and the beast fell dead. “Will you believe,” asked the Pope, “if I raise him to life again?” They agreed. Sylvester adjured the ox, in the name of Christ, and if Jesus was veritably the Messiah, to come to life again. The beast rose and quietly went on feeding. Whereupon the Jews all went out and were baptized.

Stories of this kind were invented whenever it seemed well to stimulate zeal or to promote conversions. The Jews were probably only saved from a cruel persecution by the death of the zealous convert. Already severe decrees had been issued. Constantine’s laws enact that any Jew who endangers the life of a Christian convert shall be buried alive; that no Christian shall be permitted to become a Jew; that no Jew shall possess Christian slaves. But the laws were little lightened in their favour by the successor of Constantine, and the Jews made one or two local and feeble attempts to rise in Judæa and in Alexandria. Here they had an opportunity of plundering and slaying the Christians by joining the side of Arius.

And then there came a joyful day, too short, indeed, for the Jews, when Julian the Apostate mounted the throne. Julian addressed a letter to the Patriarch, annulling the aggressive laws, and promising great things for them on his return from the East. At the same time he issued his celebrated edict ordering the rebuilding of the Temple of Jerusalem; the care of the work being intrusted to his favourite, Alypius. And now, it seemed, the restoration of the Jews was to be accomplished in an unexpected manner, not foretold by prophecy. The wealth of the people was showered upon the projected work; Jews of all ages and both sexes streamed along the roads which led to Jerusalem; and, amid hopes more eager than any the hapless people had yet experienced, the work was begun. Hardly were the foundations uncovered, the joyful Jews crowding round the workmen, when flames of fire burst forth from underground accompanied by loud explosions. The workmen fled in wild affright, and the labours were at once suspended. Nor were they ever renewed. The anger of heaven was manifested in the mysterious flames: not yet was to be the rebuilding of the Temple. And then Julian died, cut off in early manhood, and whatever hopes remained among the Jews were crushed by this untimely event.

As for the miracle of the flames, it has been accounted for by supposing the foul gas in the subterranean passages to have caught fire. Perhaps, it has been maliciously suggested, the flames were designed by the Christians themselves, eager to prevent the rebuilding of the Temple. In any case there seems no reason to doubt the fact.

And now for three hundred years the history of Jerusalem is purely ecclesiastical. The disputes of the Christians, the quarrels among the bishops over the supremacy of their sees, the bitter animosities engendered by Arius, Pelagius, and other heretics, and leaders of heterodox thought, made Palestine a battlefield of angry words, which the disputants would gladly have turned into a battlefield of swords. The history of their controversies does not belong to us, and may be read in the pages of Dean Milman and the Rev. George Williams.

The Samaritans gave a good deal of trouble in the time of Justinian by revolting and slaughtering the Christians in their quarter. They were, however, quieted in the usual way, “by punishment,” and peace reigned over all the country. Justinian built a magnificent church, of which the Mosque El Aksa perhaps preserves some of the walls, at least. It was so magnificent that in the delight of his heart, the Emperor exclaimed, “I have surpassed thee, O Solomon!” All Syria became a nest of monasteries, nunneries, and hermitages. In the north Simeon Stylites and his followers perched themselves on pillars, and soothed their sufferings with the adorations of those who came to look at them. In Palestine were hundreds of monasteries, while in every cave was a hermit, on every mountain-side the desolate dwelling of some recluse, and the air was heavy with the groans of those who tortured the flesh in order to save the soul. Moreover, the country was a great storehouse of relics. To manufacture them, or rather to find them, was a labour of love and of profit for the people. It was not difficult, because bones of saints were known always to emit a sweet and spice-like odour. They were thus readily distinguished. No doubt the aid of history was resorted to in order to determine whose bones they were. Nor was it at all a matter to disturb the faith of the holder if another man possessed the same relic of the same saint. Meantime, the wood of the Cross was discovered to have a marvellous property. It multiplied itself. If you cut a piece off to sell to a distinguished pilgrim, or to send to a powerful prince for a consideration, this invaluable relic, by a certain inherent vis viva, repaired itself and became whole again, as it had been before. So that, if the owners had chosen, a piece might have been cut off for every man in the world, and yet the wood have been no smaller. But the holders of the Cross were not so minded. So the time went on, and pleasant days, with leisure for theological quarrelling, were enjoyed in the Holy Land. The litanies of the Church were heard and said night and day, and no part of the country but resounded with the psalms and hymns of Christ, the intervals of the services being occupied by the monks in the finding and sale of relics, and in bitter dissensions between those who held views contrary to themselves. It was a land given over to monks, with a corrupt and narrow-minded Church, daily growing more corrupt and more narrow; and, when its fall took place, the cup of its corruptions appears to have been full. King Chosroes, the Persian conqueror, advanced into Syria, and the Jews, eager for some revenge for all their miseries, gladly joined his victorious arms. With him would be, without doubt, many of their own countrymen, the brethren of the Captivity, and the Mesopotamian Jews. Those in Tyre sent messengers to their countrymen in Damascus and other places, urging them to rise and massacre the Christians. The messengers were intercepted. The Christians in Tyre put the leading Jews in prison and barred the gates. Then the insurgents appeared outside and began to burn and waste the suburbs. For every Christian church burned, the Christians beheaded a hundred prisoners, and threw their heads over the wall. The Jews burned twenty churches, and two thousand heads were thrown over.[^[26]] Then came the news that Chosroes was marching on Jerusalem, and all the Jews flocked with eager anticipations to follow him. The city, feebly defended, if at all, by its priestly inhabitants, was taken at once: ninety thousand Christians are reported as having been slaughtered; it matters little now whether the number is correct or not—so large a number means nothing more definite than the indication of a great massacre—the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, i.e., what Eusebius calls, speaking of it as a whole, the Temple, the Basilica with its porticoes and pillars, and the decorations of the Sepulchre, were all destroyed: the churches built by Helena on the Mount of Olives shared the same fate: the sacred vessels were carried off by the conquerors: the wood of the true Cross was part of the booty, and the Patriarch Zacharias was made prisoner, and carried away with it. But the wife of Chosroes was a Christian. By her intercession, Zacharias was well treated and the wood of the Cross preserved. And immediately after the retreat of the Persians, one Modestus, aided by gifts from John Eleemon of Alexandria, began to repair and rebuild, as best he might, the ruined churches. Fifteen years later Heraclius reconquered the provinces of Syria and Egypt, regained the wood of the Cross, and in great triumph, though clad in mean and humble dress, and as a pilgrim, entered Jerusalem (Sept. 14, A.D. 629) bearing the wood upon his shoulder. The restoration of the Cross was accompanied also by revenge taken upon the Jews. Henceforth in the annals of Christendom every revival of religious zeal is to be marked by the murdering and massacring of Jews.

[26]. Milman, iii. 238.

What little we have to say on the vexata quæstio of the topography of Jerusalem will be found further on (see Appendix); but on leaving this, the second period of our history, one remark must be made, which may help to explain the uncertainty which rests upon the sites of the city. The destruction of the buildings, first under Titus, and next under Chosroes, appears to have been thorough and complete. Pillars may have remained standing with portions of walls; foundations, of course, remained, these being covered up and buried in the débris of roofs, walls, and decorations. On these foundations the Christians would rebuild, imitating, as far as possible, the structures that had been destroyed; in many cases they would have the very pillars to set up again, in all cases they would have the same foundations. But there was no time between the conquest by Heraclius and that by Omar to repair and restore the whole, and perhaps nothing was actually built except a church over the site of the Holy Sepulchre, formed of the materials which remained of the Basilica of the Martyrium. This theory would partly account for the silence about Justinian’s Basilica, and for the apparent discrepancy between the statement made by Eusebius of decorations only having been set round the Sepulchre itself, contrasted with his admiration of the splendid Church of the Martyrium.

However all this may be, Jerusalem presents in history three totally distinct and utterly unlike appearances. It has one under Herod; one under Justinian; and one under Saladin. Under the first it possesses one building splendid enough to excite the admiration of the whole world; under the second it has its clustered churches as splendid as the art of the time would admit; under the third it has its two great buildings, the Dome of the Rock, and the Church of the Sepulchre, standing over against each other, two enemies bound by mutual expediency to peace.

Only one of these buildings is ancient; but somewhere in the ruins and rubbish in which the whole city is buried lie the foundations of those which have been destroyed.

CHAPTER IV.
THE MOHAMMEDAN CONQUEST. A.D. 632-1104.

Πάψετε τὸ Χερουβικό, κἰ ἂς χαμηλώσουν τ’ Ἅγια!

Παπάδες πάρτε τὰ ἱερα, καὶ σεῖς κεριὰ σβυστῆτε,

Γιατὶ εἶναι θέλημα Θεοῦ ἡ Πόλι νὰ τουρκέψη.

To the Arab wanderer on the barren and sun-stricken plains of the Hejjáz the well-watered, fertile land of Syria had always been an object of admiration and envy. As Mohammed the camel-driver sat on the hill which overlooks Damascus, and gazed upon the rich verdure of that garden of the East, his religious phrenzy, his visionary schemes for the unity and regeneration of his race had well-nigh yielded to the voluptuous fascination of the scene. But enthusiasm and ambition triumphed: his eyes filled with tears, and exclaiming, “Man can enter Paradise but once,” he turned sorrowfully back, and in that moment changed the fortunes of the world.

When Abu Bekr, Mohammed’s first successor, had quelled the disturbances which threatened the Muslim power, and found himself the acknowledged head of an immense confederation of restless and enthusiastic warriors, thoughts of conquest naturally presented themselves to his mind, and Syria was, as naturally, the first quarter to which he turned.

His resolution once taken, he addressed a circular-letter to the petty chieftains of Arabia, in which, appealing to their national prejudices and newly-awakened religious zeal, he exhorted them to wrest the long-coveted Syria out of the infidels’ hands. His proposal was hailed with satisfaction by all those to whom it was addressed, and in a short space of time a considerable army was assembled around Medinah, waiting for the caliph’s orders. Yezíd ibn Abi Sufiyán was appointed commander-in-chief of the forces, and received immediate orders to march. Nothing could have been more moderate than the instructions which Abu Bekr delivered to his general for the conduct of the war. He was to respect the lives of women, children, and aged persons; to permit no wanton mischief or destruction of property, and to adhere religiously to any covenant or treaty which they might make with the opposite side.

The Emperor Heraclius made immediate preparations for averting the threatened invasion, but his hastily-collected and ill-organised forces were defeated in the very first engagement, while the Arabs scarcely suffered any loss. Encouraged by the success of their countrymen the inhabitants of Mecca and of the Hejjáz flocked to Abu Bekr’s standard, and another division, under ‘Άmer ibn el ‘Άs, the future conqueror of Egypt, was despatched into Palestine. Abu ‘Obeidah ibn el Jerráh, of whom we shall hear more anon, was at the same time sent to take the command in Syria; but, meeting with some reverses, he was in turn superseded by Khálid ibn el Walíd, who was recalled from Irák for that purpose. This warrior’s achievements against “the Infidels” had, during Mohammed’s lifetime, earned for him the title of “The drawn Sword of God,” and his name had already become a terror to the Greeks.

The important town of Bostra was the first to yield, being betrayed by its governor Romanus, and the Saracens thus obtained a footing in Syria, of which they were not slow to take advantage.

The forces now marched upon Damascus, when a change took place in the relative position of the generals. Abu Bekr shortly before his decease, which happened in 634 A.D., had appointed ‘Omar ibn el Khattáb his successor. The first act of the new caliph on assuming the reins of government was to depose Khálid from the command of the army in Syria, and to appoint Abu ‘Obeidah generalissimo in his stead. ‘Omar’s letter containing these commands reached them outside Damascus, and Abu ‘Obeidah, immediately upon receiving it, posted himself with his division at the Báb el Jábieh; Khálid occupied the eastern gate, and the two remaining chiefs Yezíd ibn Abi Sufiyán, and ‘Άmer ibn el ‘Άs, having disposed their forces on the north and south sides respectively, a strict blockade was commenced.

For seventy days Damascus held out; when Khálid having forced his position, the inhabitants retreated to the opposite side of the city, and, finding further resistance impossible, admitted Abu ‘Obeidah peaceably within the walls; the two generals thus met in the centre of the city.

The conquest of Damascus was followed by the taking of Homs, after a protracted siege; Hamath and Ma’arrah surrendered without a blow; Laodicea, Jebeleh, Tarsus, Aleppo, Antioch, Cæsarea, Sebastiyeh, Nablús, Lydda, and Jaffah, one after another fell into the hands of the invaders. But it was at the battle of Yarmúk (A.D. 636) that the Christian power in Syria experienced the most fatal blow.

The Emperor Heraclius, driven to desperation by the continued successes of the enemy, had determined upon making a great and final effort for the preservation of his empire in the East. He had accordingly raised an immense army from all parts of his dominions, and despatched the main body to give battle to the Saracens; while the remaining portion, which was still very considerable in point of numbers, received instructions to defend the seaboard of Syria.

On the approach of the Greek army the Arab generals, who were at Homs (the ancient Emessa), retreated toward Yarmúk, where they would be in a better position for receiving reinforcements from home, and Mahan (or Manuel), the Greek general, followed them in hot pursuit. At first their progress was opposed by the Christian Arabs, under Jebaleh ibn Aihám; but this chief was defeated with little loss to the Muslims, although some men of note, and amongst them Yezíd ibn Abi Sufiyán were taken prisoners. Abu ‘Obeidah now sent a message to the caliph, urging him to send them immediate reinforcements, and another army of eight hundred men was quickly levied in Arabia, and sent to the relief of the Syrian generals. When Mahan’s army reached Yarmúk some negotiations were opened between the Greeks and Christians. Khálid, who acted as parlementaire on the occasion, succeeded in obtaining the release of the prisoners; but, as they were unable to come to terms, both sides began to prepare for the battle which was to determine the fate of Syria.

For several days the fighting continued with fluctuating fortune, but at last an incident happened which decided the contest in favour of the Mohammedans. A native of Homs who happened to be staying in the neighbourhood of Yarmúk, had hospitably entertained some of the Grecian officers; this kindness they requited by the violation of his wife and the murder of his infant son. Maddened by his wrongs, and unable to obtain redress from the Greek general, he went over to the Mohammedans, and, having betrayed the Christians into an ambuscade near the ford of the river, they were attacked and completely routed by their enemies; more than forty thousand men perishing by the sword or being whirled away by the resistless stream and drowned. Thus the same licentious barbarity and corruption which, more than Arab prowess, had contributed to the success of the Muslim arms at the outset of the war, ultimately resulted in the entire overthrow of the Christian power in the East.

Nothing now remained to complete the triumph of the invaders but the capture of Jerusalem itself; accordingly a little time after the decisive battle of Yarmúk (A.D. 636), Abu ‘Obeidah prepared to march upon the Holy City. Yezíd ibn abi Sufiyán was sent forward with a detachment of five thousand men; Abu ‘Obeidah himself brought up the main body a few days later, and was joined shortly after by the division under ‘Άmer ibn el ‘Άs. Desiring to afford the inhabitants every opportunity of coming to terms without further bloodshed, the general, before actually commencing hostilities, halted at the ford of the Jordan, and indited a letter to the Christian Patriarch and people of Ælia, demanding their immediate submission, and requiring them either to embrace the Mohammedan faith, or to pay the usual tribute exacted from unbelievers. “If you refuse,” said he, “you will have to contend with people who love the taste of death more than you love wine and swine’s flesh, and rest assured that I will come up against you, and will not depart until I have slain all the able-bodied men among you, and carried off your women and children captive.”

To this message a decisive refusal was returned, and Abu ‘Obeidah, in accordance with his threat, marched upon Jerusalem and besieged the town. The Christians, after several unsuccessful sallies, finding themselves reduced to great straits by the protracted siege, made overtures for capitulation, but refused to treat with any but the caliph himself. Having exacted a solemn oath from them that they would hold to the proposed conditions in case of his sovereign’s arrival, the general sent a message to ‘Omar, inviting him to leave Medína, and receive in person the capitulation of the town. The messengers from Abu ‘Obeidah’s camp were accompanied by some representatives of the Christian community, and the latter were much astonished at the stern simplicity and comparative retirement in which the caliph was living, which but ill accorded with their previously conceived ideas of the great monarch who had conquered the whole of Arabia and Syria, and made even the Emperors of Greece and Persia to tremble on their thrones. The meeting between the caliph and his victorious general was still further calculated to impress them. ‘Omar was mounted on a camel, and attired in simple Bedawí costume—a sheepskin cloak, and coarse cotton shirt; Abu ‘Obeidah was mounted on a small she-camel, an ‘abba’ or mantle of haircloth, folded over the saddle, and a rude halter of twisted hair forming her only trappings; he wore his armour, and carried his bow slung across his shoulder. Abu ‘Obeidah, dismounting from his beast, approached the caliph in a respectful attitude; but the latter dismounting almost at the same moment, stooped to kiss his general’s feet, whereupon there ensued a contest of humility, which was only put an end to by the two great men mutually consenting to embrace after the usual fashion of Arab sheikhs when meeting upon equal terms. A story of ‘Omar’s compensating a man for some grapes which his followers had heedlessly plucked as they came in from their thirsty ride, and several other instances of his great integrity and unassuming manners, are related by the Arab historians. No doubt these incidents were, to some extent, the offspring of “the pride that apes humility;” yet the Muslim sovereign really seems to have possessed some good and amiable qualities.

‘Omar pitched his camp upon the Mount of Olives, where he was immediately visited by a messenger from the Patriarch of Jerusalem, who sent to welcome him and renew the offers of capitulation. This patriarch was named Sophronius, and was a native of Damascus. He was as remarkable for his zeal and erudition as for the purity of his life, which presented a striking contrast to the prevailing immorality of the age. The patriarch’s observation, upon first setting eyes on ‘Omar, was anything but complimentary, though, perhaps, justified by the meanness of the caliph’s attire: “Verily,” said he, “this is the abomination of Desolation, spoken of by Daniel the Prophet, standing in the Holy Place.” The commander of the faithful was rather flattered by the remark, which the Arab historians have construed into an admission on the part of Sophronius that the conquest of ‘Omar was foretold in Holy Writ. The armistice previously granted having been confirmed, and the personal safety of the patriarch and his immediate followers being guaranteed, that dignitary set out with a large company of attendants for the caliph’s tent, and proceeded to confer with him personally and to draw up the articles of peace. These terms, exacted from Jerusalem in common with the other conquered cities, were, in spite of ‘Omar’s boasted generosity and equity, extremely hard and humiliating for the Christians. They ran as follows:—

The Christians shall enjoy security both of person and property, the safety of their churches shall be, moreover, guaranteed, and no interference is to be permitted on the part of the Mohammedans with any of their religious exercises, houses, or institutions; provided only that such churches, or religious institutions, shall be open night and day to the inspection of the Muslim authorities. All strangers and others are to be permitted to leave the town if they think fit, but any one electing to remain shall be subject to the herein-mentioned stipulations. No payment shall be exacted from any one until after the gathering in of his harvest. Mohammedans are to be treated everywhere with the greatest respect; the Christians must extend to them the rights of hospitality, rise to receive them, and accord them the first place of honour in their assemblies. The Christians are to build no new churches, convents, or other religious edifices, either within or without the city, or in any other part of the Muslim territory; they shall not teach their children the Cor’án, but, on the other hand, no one shall be prevented from embracing the Mohammedan religion. No public exhibition of any kind of the Christian religion is to be permitted. They shall not in any way imitate the Muslims, either in dress or behaviour, nor make use of their language in writing or engraving, nor adopt Muslim names or appellations. They shall not carry arms, nor ride astride their animals, nor wear or publicly exhibit the sign of the cross. They shall not make use of bells; nor strike the nákús (wooden gong) except with a suppressed sound; nor shall they place their lamps in public places, nor raise their voices in lamentation for the dead. They shall shave the front part of the head and gird up their dress, and lastly, they shall never intrude into any Muslim’s house on any pretext whatever. To these conditions ‘Omar added the following clause to be accepted by the Christians: That no Christian should strike a Muslim, and that if they failed to comply with any single one of the previous stipulations, they should confess that their lives were justly forfeit, and that they were deserving of the punishment inflicted upon rebellious subjects.

When these terms had been agreed upon by both sides and the treaty signed and sealed, ‘Omar requested the patriarch to lead him to the Mosque (Masjid, or “place of adoration,”) of David. The patriarch acceding to this request, ‘Omar, accompanied by four thousand attendants, was conducted by him into the Holy City. They first proceeded to the church of the Holy Sepulchre,[^[27]] which the patriarch pointed out as the site of David’s temple. “Thou liest,” said ‘Omar, curtly, and was proceeding to leave the spot when the hour of prayer arrived, and the caliph declared his intention of retiring to perform his religious duties. The patriarch invited him to pray where he stood, in the church itself. This ‘Omar refused to do, and was next led to the church of Constantine, where a sejjádeh, or prayer mat, was spread for him. Declining this accommodation also, the caliph went outside the church, and prayed alone upon the door-steps. When asked the reason for his objection to pray within the church, he told the patriarch that he had expressly avoided doing so, lest his countrymen should afterwards make his act a precedent and an excuse for confiscating the property. So anxious was he not to give the least occasion for the exercise of injustice, that he called for pen and paper, and then and there wrote a document, which he delivered to the patriarch, forbidding Moslems to pray even upon the steps of the church, except it were one at a time, and strictly prohibiting them from calling the people to prayer at the spot, or in any way using it as one of their own mosques.

[27]. In the original El Camámah, “dung;” which is explained a little further on to be a designed corruption of the word Caiyámah, “Anastasis.” These words are at the present day applied by the Muslim and Christian population respectively to the church of the Holy Sepulchre.

This honourable observance of the stipulations contained in the treaty, and careful provision against future aggression on the part of his followers, cannot but excite our admiration for the man. In spite of the great accession to our knowledge of the literature of this period which has been made during the last century, we doubt if the popular notions respecting the Saracen conquerors of Jerusalem have been much modified, and many people still regard them as a fierce and inhuman horde of barbarous savages, while the Crusaders are judged only by the saintly figures that lie cross-legged upon some old cathedral brasses, and are looked upon as the beau-ideals of chivalry and gentle Christian virtue. But we shall have occasion to recur to this subject further on.

Leaving the church of Constantine they next visited that called Sion, which the patriarch again pointed out as the Mosque of David, and again ‘Omar gave him the lie. After this they proceeded to the Masjid of Jerusalem, and halted at the gate called Báb Mohammed. Now the dung in the mosque had settled on the steps of the door in such quantities that it came out into the street in which the door is situated, and nearly clung to the roofed archway of the street.[^[28]] Hereupon the patriarch said, “We shall never be able to enter unless we crawl upon our hands and knees.” “Well,” replied the caliph, “on our hands and knees be it.” So the patriarch led the way, followed by ‘Omar and the rest of the party, and they crawled along until they came out upon the courtyard of the Temple, where they could stand upright. Then ‘Omar, having surveyed the place attentively for some time, suddenly exclaimed: “By Him in whose hands my soul is, this is the mosque of David, from which the prophet told us that he ascended into heaven. He (upon whom be peace) gave us a circumstantial account thereof, and especially mentioned the fact that we had found upon the Sakhrah a quantity of dung which the Christians had thrown there out of spite to the children of Israel.”[^[29]] With these words he stooped down and began to brush off the dung with his sleeve, and his example being followed by the other Mussulmans of the party, they soon cleared all the dung away, and brought the Sakhrah to light. Having done so he forbade them to pray there until three showers of rain had fallen upon it.

[28]. This important passage has been but imperfectly understood; Reynolds, in his translation of “Jelál ed dín,” makes absolute nonsense of it, rendering the words:—

“So he went with him to the Mosques of the Holy City, until he came at last near unto a gate, called the gate of Mohammed; and he drew down all the filth that was on the declivity of the steps of the gate, until he came to a narrow passage, and he went down a number of steps until he almost hung upon the top of the interior or upper surface.... So ‘Omar went upon his hands, and we went upon our hands and knees after him until we came to the central sewer. And we stood here upright.”

The word here rendered mosques is in the singular, not in the plural, and plainly refers to a spot well known as “the Temple (Masjid) of Jerusalem.” The word rendered “he drew down” is passive, and implies that the dirt had collected in such quantities upon the raised platform as to run down the steps into the street, where it had made a heap high enough to reach the arched roof of the public way. Not to mention the difficulty of four thousand men standing upright in a sewer, I may remark that the word rendered “central sewer” is sahn, “an open court,” the name applied at the present day to the platform upon which the Cubbet es Sakhrah stands. Reynolds’s translation would imply that the site of the Sakhrah was in a sewer below the level of the rest of the city as it then stood!

[29]. It needed no prophetic inspiration to acquaint Mohammed with this fact. The site of the Temple was not only well known to the Christians, but was systematically defiled by them out of abhorrence for the Jews. Eutychius expressly tells us that—“when Helena, the mother of Constantine, had built churches at Jerusalem, the site of the rock and its neighbourhood had been laid waste, and so left. But the Christians heaped dirt on the rock so that there was a large dunghill over it. And so the Romans had neglected it, nor given it that honour which the Israelites had been wont to pay it, and had not built a church above it, because it had been said by our Lord Jesus Christ in the Holy Gospel, ‘Behold, your house shall be left unto you desolate.’”

Another account relates that, on conquering the city, ‘Omar sent for Ka‘ab, a Jew who had been converted to Mohammedanism during the prophet’s lifetime, and said to him, “Oh, Abu Ishák, dost thou know the site of the Sakhrah?” “Yes,” replied Ka‘ab, “it is distant such and such a number of cubits[^[30]] from the wall which runs parallel to the Wády Jehennum; it is at the present time used for a dunghill.” Digging at the spot indicated, they found the Sakhrah as Ka‘ab had described. Then ‘Omar asked Ka‘ab where he would advise him to place the mosque? Ka‘ab answered, “I should place it behind the Sakhrah, so that the two Kiblahs,[^[31]] namely, that of Moses and that of Mohammed, may be made identical.” “Ah,” said ‘Omar, “thou leanest still to Jewish notions, I see; the best place for the mosque is in front of it,” and he built it in front accordingly.

[30]. Reynolds, again misunderstanding the Arabic, renders this “one cubit.”

[31]. The Kiblah is a “point of adoration,” that is, the direction in which Mecca lies. In the Mohammedan mosques it is indicated by a small niche called a mihráb.

Another version of this conversation is, that when Ka‘ab proposed to set the praying-place behind the Sakhrah, ‘Omar reproved him, as has just been stated, for his Jewish proclivities, and added, “Nay, but we will place it in the sudr (‘breast or forepart’), for the prophet ordained that the Kiblah of our mosques should be in the forepart. I am not ordered,” said he, “to turn to the Sakhrah, but to the Ka‘abah.” Afterwards, when ‘Omar had completed the conquest of Jerusalem, and cleared away the dirt from the Sakhrah, and the Christians had entered into their engagements to pay tribute, the Muslims changed the name of the great Christian church from Caiyámah (Anastasis), to Camámah (dung), to remind them of their indecent treatment of the holy place, and to further glorify the Sakhrah itself.

The mosque erected by ‘Omar is described by an early pilgrim who saw it as a simple square building of timber, capable of holding three thousand people, and constructed over the ruins of some more ancient edifice.

The annals of the Mohammedan Empire during the next forty-eight years, although fraught with stirring events, bear but little on the history of Jerusalem itself; and although the visit of ‘Omar had impressed the followers of the Cor’án with the idea that they possessed an equal interest in the Holy City with the adherents of the Law and of the Gospel, still their devotion to the Temple of Mecca and their prophet’s tomb at Medína was too deeply rooted to leave them much reverence for the Masjid el Aksa. But political exigencies did what religious enthusiasm had failed to accomplish, and in 684 A.D., in the reign of ‘Abd el Melik, the ninth successor of Mohammed, and the fifth caliph of the House of Omawíyah, events happened which once more turned people’s attention to the City of David.

For eight years the Mussulman empire had been distracted by factions and party quarrels. The inhabitants of the two holy cities, Mecca and Medína, had risen against the authority of the legitimate caliphs, and had proclaimed ‘Abdallah ibn Zobeir their spiritual and temporal head. Yezíd and Mo‘áwíyeh had in vain attempted to suppress the insurrection; the usurper had contrived to make his authority acknowledged throughout Arabia and the African provinces, and had established the seat of his government at Mecca itself. ‘Abd el Melik trembled for his own rule; year after year crowds of pilgrims would visit the Ka‘abah, and Ibn Zobeir’s religious and political influence would thus become disseminated throughout the whole of Islam. In order to avoid these consequences, and at the same time to weaken his rival’s prestige, ‘Abd el Melik conceived the plan of diverting men’s minds from the pilgrimage to Mecca, and inducing them to make the pilgrimage to Jerusalem instead. This was an easier task than might have been at first supposed.

The frequent mention of Jerusalem in the Cor’án, its intimate connection with those Scriptural events which Mohammed taught as part and parcel of his own faith, and, lastly, the prophet’s pretended night journey to Heaven from the Holy Rock of Jerusalem—these were points which appealed directly to the Mohammedan mind, and to all these considerations was added the charm of novelty—novelty, too, with the sanction of antiquity—and we need not, therefore, wonder that the caliph’s appeal to his subjects met with a ready and enthusiastic response.

Having determined upon this course he sent circular letters to every part of his dominions, couched in the following terms:—

“‘Abd el Melik desiring to build a dome over the Holy Rock of Jerusalem, in order to shelter the Muslims from the inclemency of the weather, and, moreover, wishing to restore the Masjid, requests his subjects to acquaint him with their wishes on the matter, as he would be sorry to undertake so important a matter without consulting their opinion.”

Letters of approval and congratulation flowed in upon the caliph from all quarters, and he accordingly assembled a number of the most skilled artisans, and set apart for the proposed work a sum of money equivalent in amount to the whole revenue of Egypt for seven years. For the safe custody of this immense treasure he built a small dome, the same which exists at the present day to the east of the Cubbet es Sakhrah, and is called Cubbet es Silsilah. This little dome he himself designed, and personally gave the architect instructions as to its minutest details. When finished, he was so pleased with the general effect that he ordered the Cubbet es Sakhrah itself to be built on precisely the same model.

Having completed his treasure-house and filled it with wealth, he appointed Rija ibn Haiyáh el Kendi controller thereof, with Yezíd ibn Sallám, a native of Jerusalem, as his coadjutor. These two persons were to make all disbursements necessary for the works, and were enjoined to expend the entire amount upon them, regulating the outlay as occasion might require. They commenced with the erection of the Cubbeh, beginning on the east side and finishing at the west, until the whole was so perfect that no one was able to suggest an addition or an improvement. Similarly in the buildings in the fore part of the Masjid,[^[32]] that is, on the south side, they worked from east to west, commencing with the wall by which is the Mehd ‘Aisa (cradle of Jesus), and carrying it on to the spot now known as the Jam‘i el Magháribeh.

[32]. See p. [83].

On the completion of the work, Rijá and Yezíd addressed the following letter to ‘Abd el Melik, who was then at Damascus:—

“In accordance with the orders given by the Commander of the Faithful, the building of the Dome of the Rock of Jerusalem and the Masjid el Aksa is now so complete that nothing more can be desired. After paying all the expenses of the building there still remains in hand a hundred thousand dinárs of the sum originally deposited with us; this amount the Commander of the Faithful will expend in such manner as may seem good to him.”

The caliph replied that they were at liberty to appropriate the sum to themselves in consideration of their services in superintending the financial department of the works. The two commissioners, however, declined this proposition, and again offered to place it at the caliph’s disposal, with the addition of the ornaments belonging to their women and the surplus of their own private property. ‘Abd el Melik, on receipt of their answer, bade them melt up the money in question, and apply it to the ornamentation of the Cubbeh. This they accordingly did, and the effect is said to have been so magnificent that it was impossible for any to keep his eyes fixed on the dome, owing to the quantity of gold with which it was ornamented. They then prepared a covering of felt and leather, which they put upon it in winter time to protect it from the wind and rain and snow. Rijá and Yezíd also surrounded the Sakhrah itself with a latticed screen of ebony, and hung brocaded curtains behind the screen between the columns. It is said that in the days of ‘Abd el Melik a precious pearl, the horn of Abraham’s ram, and the crown of the Khosroes, were attached to the chain which is suspended in the centre of the dome, but when the caliphate passed into the hands of the Beni Háshem they removed these relics to the Ka‘abah.

When the Masjid was quite completed and thrown open for public service, no expense or trouble was spared to make it as attractive as possible to the worshippers. Every morning a number of attendants were employed in pounding saffron, and in making perfumed water with which to sprinkle the mosque, as well as in preparing and burning incense. Servants were also sent into the Hammám Suleimán (“Solomon’s bath”) to cleanse it out thoroughly. Having done this they used to go into the store-room in which the Khalúk[^[33]] was kept, and changing their clothes for fresh ones of various costly stuffs, and putting jewelled girdles round their waists, and taking the Khalúk in their hands, they proceeded to dab it all over the Sakhrah as far as they could reach; and when they could not reach with their hands they washed their feet and stepped upon the Sakhrah itself until they had dabbed it all over, and emptied the pots of Khalúk. Then they brought censers of gold and silver filled with ‘ud (perfumed aloes wood) and other costly kinds of incense, with which they perfumed the entire place, first letting down the curtains round all the pillars, and walking round them until the incense filled the place between them and the dome, and then fastening them up again so that the incense escaped and filled the entire building, even penetrating into the neighbouring bazaar, so that any one who passed that way could smell it. After this, proclamation was made in the public market, “The Sakhrah is now open for public worship,” and people would run in such crowds to pray there, that two reka‘as was as much as most men could accomplish, and it was only a very few who could succeed in performing four.

[33]. A species of aromatic plant rather larger than saffron.

So strongly was the building perfumed with the incense, that one who had been into it could at once be detected by the odour, and people used to say as they sniffed it, “Ah! So and so has been in the Sakhrah.” So great, too, was the throng that people could not perform their ablutions in the orthodox manner, but were obliged to content themselves with washing the soles of their feet with water, wiping them with green sprigs of myrtle, and drying them with their pocket-handkerchiefs. The doors were all locked, ten chamberlains were posted at each door, and the mosque was only opened twice a week—namely, on Mondays and Fridays; on other days none but the attendants were allowed access to the buildings.

Ibn ‘Asákir, who visited Jerusalem early in the twelfth century of the Christian era, tells us that there were 6000 planks of wood in the Masjid used for roofing and flooring, exclusive of wooden pillars. It also contained fifty doors, amongst which were:—Báb el Cortobi (the gate of the Cordovan), Báb Dáud (the gate of David), Báb Suleimán (the gate of Solomon), Báb Mohammed (the gate of Mohammed), Báb Hettah (the gate of Remission[^[34]]), Báb el Taubah (the gate of Reconciliation), where God was reconciled to David after his sin with Bathsheba, Báb er Rahmeh (the gate of Mercy), six gates called Abwáb al Asbát (the gates of the tribes), Báb el Walíd (the gate of Walíd), Báb el Háshimi̓ (the gate of the Háshem Family), Báb el Khidhir (the gate of St. George or Elias), and Báb es Sekínah (the gate of the Shekina). There were also 600 marble pillars; seven mihrábs (or prayer niches); 385 chains for lamps, of which 230 were in the Masjid el Aksa, and the rest in the Cubbet es Sakhrah; the accumulative length of the chains was 4000 cubits, and their weight 43,000 ratals (Syrian measure). There were also 5000 lamps, in addition to which they used to light 1000 wax candles every Friday, and on the night of the middle of the months Rejeb, Sha‘ban, and Ramadhán, as well as on the nights of the two great festivals. There were fifteen domes, or oratories, exclusive of the Cubbet es Sakhrah; and on the roof of the mosque itself were 7700 strips of lead, and the weight of each strip was 70 Syrian ratals. This was exclusive of the lead which was upon the Cubbet es Sakhrah. There were four-and-twenty large cisterns in the Masjid, and four minarets—three in a line on the west side of the Masjid, and one over the Babel Esbát.

[34]. Cf. Cor’án, cap. ii. v. 55, “Enter the gate with adoration, and say ‘Remission.’”

All the above work was done in the days of ‘Abd el Melik ibn Merwán. The same prince appointed three hundred perpetual attendants to the mosque, slaves purchased with a fifth of the revenue; and whenever one of these died, there was appointed in his stead either his son, grandson, or some one of the family, and the office was made hereditary so long as the generation lasted. There were also Jewish servants employed in the Masjid, and these were exempted, on account of their services, from payment of the capitation-tax; originally they were ten in number, but, as their families sprung up, they increased to twenty. Their business was to sweep out the Masjid all the year round, and to clean out the lavatories round about it. Besides these, there were ten Christian servants also attached to the place in perpetuity, and transmitting the office to their children; their business was to brush the mats, and to sweep out the conduits and cisterns. A number of Jewish servants were also employed in making glass lamps, candelabras, &c. (These and their families were also exempted in perpetuity from tax, and the same privilege was accorded to those who made the lamp-wicks.)

Ibn ‘Asákir informs us that the length of the Masjid el Aksa was 755 cubits, and the breadth 465 cubits, the standard employed being the royal cubit. The author of the ‘Muthír el Gharám’ declares that he found on the inner surface of the north wall of the Haram, over the door, which is behind the Báb ed Dowaidáríyeh, a stone tablet, on which the length of the Masjid was recorded as 784 cubits, and its breadth as 455; it did not, however, state whether or no the standard employed was the royal cubit. The same author informs us that he himself measured the Masjid with a rope, and found that in length it was 683 cubits on the east side, and 650 on the west; and in breadth it was 438 cubits, exclusive of the breadth of the wall.

‘Abdallah Yácút el Hamawí, a Christian Arab writer of the twelfth century, tells us that the substructure of the Jewish Temple served for the foundations of ‘Abd el Melik’s edifice, and that that monarch built a wall of smaller stones upon the more massive ancient blocks. The great substructures at the south-west angle are said to be the work of ‘Abd el Melik, who is reported to have made them in order to obtain a platform on which to erect the el Aksa.[^[35]]

[35]. Vide M. de Vogüé, p. 76.

In order to understand the native accounts of the sacred area at Jerusalem, it is essentially necessary to keep in mind the proper application of the various names by which it is spoken of. When the Masjid el Aksa is mentioned, that name is usually supposed to refer to the well-known mosque on the south side of the Haram, but such is not really the case. The latter building is called El Jámi el Aksa, or simply El Aksa, and the substructures are called El Aksa el Kadímeh (the ancient Aksa), while the title El Masjid el Aksa is applied to the whole sanctuary. The word jámi is exactly equivalent in sense to the Greek συναγωγὴ, and is applied only to the church or building in which the worshippers congregate. Masjid, on the other hand, is a much more general term; it is derived from the verb sejada, “to adore,” and is applied to any spot, the sacred character of which would especially incite the visitor to an act of devotion. Our word mosque is a corruption of masjid, but it is usually misapplied, as the building is never so designated, although the whole area on which it stands may be so spoken of.

The Jám‘i el Aksa, Jám‘i el Magháribeh, &c., are mosques in our sense of the word, but the entire Haram is a masjid. This will explain what is meant by saying that ‘Omar, after visiting the churches of the Anastasis, Sion, &c., was taken to the “Masjid” of Jerusalem; and will account for the statement of Ibn el ‘Asa’kir and others, that the Masjid el Aksa measured over six hundred cubits in length—that is, the length of the whole Haram area. The name Masjid el Aksa is borrowed from the passage in the Cor’án (xvii. 1), where allusion is made to the pretended ascent of Mohammed into heaven from the Temple of Jerusalem: “Praise be unto Him who transported His servant by night from El Masjid el Harám (i.e., ‘the Sacred place of Adoration,’ at Mecca) to El Masjid el Aksa (i.e. ‘the Remote place of Adoration’ at Jerusalem), the precincts of which we have blessed,” &c. The title El Aksa, “the Remote,” according to the Mohammedan doctors, is applied to the Temple of Jerusalem, “either because of its distance from Mecca, or because it is in the centre of the earth.” The title Haram, or “sanctuary,” it enjoys in common with those of Mecca, Medina, and Hebron.

As M. de Vogüé has pointed out, the Cubbet es Sakhrah, notwithstanding its imposing proportions, is not, properly speaking, a mosque, and is not constructed with a view to the celebration of public prayers and services. It is only an oratory, one of the numerous cubbehs with which the Haram es Sheríf abounds—domed edifices that mark the various spots to which traditions cling. The form is, in fact, almost identical with that of an ordinary Muslim weli, or saint’s tomb. El Jám‘i el Aksa is, on the other hand, a mosque designed expressly for the accommodation of a large congregation, assembled for public worship, and resembling in its architectural details the celebrated mosques of Constantinople or elsewhere.

The erection of the Cubbet es Sakhrah, Jám‘i el Aksa, and the restoration of the temple area by ‘Abd el Melik, are recorded in a magnificent Cufic inscription in mosaic, running round the colonnade of the first-mentioned building. The name of ‘Abd el Melik has been purposely erased, and that of ‘Abdallah el Mamún fraudulently substituted; but the shortsighted forger has omitted to erase the date, as well as the name of the original founder, and the inscription still remains a contemporary record of the munificence of ‘Abd el Melik. The translation is as follows:—

“In the name of God, the Merciful, the Compassionate! There is no god but God alone; He hath no partner; His is the kingdom, His the praise. He giveth life and death, for He is the Almighty. In the name of God, the Merciful, the Compassionate! There is no god but God alone; He hath no partner; Mohammed is the Apostle of God; pray God for him. The servant of God ‘Abdallah, the Imám al Mamún [read ‘Abd el Melik], Commander of the Faithful, built this dome in the year 72 (A.D. 691). May God accept it at his hands, and be content with him, Amen! The restoration is complete, and to God be the praise. In the name of God, the Merciful, the Compassionate! There is no god but God alone; He hath no partner. Say He is the one God, the Eternal; He neither begetteth nor is begotten, and there is no one like Him. Mohammed is the Apostle of God; pray God for him. In the name of God, the Merciful, the Compassionate! There is no god but God, and Mohammed is the Apostle of God; pray God for him. Verily, God and His angels pray for the Prophet. Oh ye who believe, pray for him, and salute ye him with salutations of peace. In the name of God, the Merciful, the Compassionate! There is no god but God alone; to Him be praise, who taketh not unto Himself a son, and to whom none can be a partner in His kingdom, and whose patron no lower creature can be; magnify ye Him. Mohammed is the Apostle of God; God, and His angels, and apostles pray for him; and peace be upon him, and the mercy of God. In the name of God, the Merciful, the Compassionate! There is no god but God alone; He hath no partner; His is the kingdom, and His the praise; He giveth life and death, for He is Almighty. Verily, God and His angels pray for the Prophet. Oh ye who believe, pray for him, and salute him with salutations of peace. Oh! ye who have received the Scriptures, exceed not the bounds in your religion, and speak not aught but truth concerning God. Verily, Jesus Christ, the son of Mary, is the Apostle of God, and His word which He cast over Mary, and a spirit from Him. Then believe in God and His apostles, and do not say there are three gods; forbear, and it will be better for you. God is but One. Far be it from Him that He should have a son. To Him belongeth whatsoever is in the heaven and in the earth, and God is a sufficient protector. Christ doth not disdain to be a servant of God, nor do the angels who are near the throne. Whosoever then disdains His service, and is puffed up with pride, God shall gather them all at the last day. O God, pray for Thy apostle Jesus, the son of Mary; peace be upon me the day I am born, and the day I die, and the day I am raised to life again. That is Jesus, the son of Mary, concerning whom ye doubt. It is not for God to take unto Himself a son; far be it from Him. If He decree a thing, He doth but say unto it, Be, and it is. God is my Lord and yours. Serve Him, this is the right way. God hath testified that there is no god but He, and the angels, and beings endowed with knowledge (testify it), He executeth righteousness. There is no God but He, the Mighty, the Wise. Verily, the true religion in the sight of God is Islám. Say praise be to God, who taketh not unto Himself a son; whose partner in the kingdom none can he; whose patron no lowly creature can be. Magnify ye Him!”[^[36]]

[36]. This inscription, which is composed chiefly of Coranic texts, is interesting both from a historical point of view, and as showing the spirit in which Christianity was regarded by the Muslims of these early times. It has never before been published in its entirety. Its preservation during the subsequent Christian occupation of the city may occasion some surprise, as the Latins (by whom the Cubbet es Sakhrah was turned into a church) could not but have been offended at quotations which so decidedly deny the Divinity of Christ and the doctrine of the Trinity. It is probable, however, that the Cúfic character, in which it is written, was as unintelligible to the Christian natives of that time, as it is now, even to most of the learned Muslims of the present day.

‘Abd el Melik died on the 8th of September, 705 A.D., and was succeeded by his son Walíd. During that prince’s reign the eastern portion of the Masjid fell into ruins; and as there were no funds in the treasury available for the purpose of restoring it, Walíd ordered the requisite amount to be levied from his subjects.

On the death of Walíd, the caliphate passed into the hands of his brother Suleimán, who was at Jerusalem when the messengers came to him to announce his accession to the throne.

He received them in the Masjid itself, sitting in one of the domes in the open court—probably in that now called Cubbet Suleimán, which is behind the Cubbet es Sakhrah, near the Báb ed Duweidáríyel. He died at Jerusalem, after a short reign of three years, and was succeeded (A.D. 717) by ‘Omar ibn Abd el ‘Aziz, surnamed El Mehdí. It is related that this prince dismissed the Jews who had been hitherto employed in lighting up the sanctuary, and put in their places some of the slaves before-mentioned as having been purchased by ‘Abd el Melik, at the price of a fifth of the treasury (El Khums). One of these last came to the caliph, and begged him to emancipate him.

“I have no power to do so,” replied ‘Omar. “But look you, if you choose to go of your own accord, I claim no right over a single hair of your head.”[^[37]]

[37]. The following extract from Reynolds’s ‘Temple of Jerusalem,’ purporting to be a translation of this passage, will, I hope, excuse me from again quoting or referring to that valuable work:—“The Jews purveyed the furniture (necessaries) for the temple, but when Omar-Rudh-Ullah-anhu-ibn—Abdul Azíz—ascended the throne, he dismissed them, and placed therein some of the tribe of Khims (of Arabia Felix). And then came to him a man of the family of Khims, and said unto him, ‘Give me some present.’ But he said, ‘How can I give thee? for if thou shouldst strain thine eyes in staring, I have not a single one of thy dog’s hairs (to give).’”

And this astounding display of ignorance was “published under the auspices of the Oriental Translation Fund of Great Britain and Ireland!”—E. H. P.

In the reign of the second ‘Abbasside caliph, Abu Ja‘afer Mansúr (A.D. 755), a severe earthquake shook Jerusalem; and the southern portion of the Haram es Sheríf, standing as it did upon an artificially-raised platform, suffered most severely from the shock. In order to meet the expense of repairing the breaches thus made, the caliph ordered the gold and silver plates, with which the munificence of ‘Abd el Melik had covered the doors of the Masjid, to be stripped off, converted into coin, and applied to the restoration of the edifice. The part restored was not, however, destined to last long; for during the reign of El Mehdí, his son and successor, the mosque had again fallen into ruins, and was rebuilt by the caliph upon a different plan, the width being increased at the expense of the length.

The foundation, by the Caliph Mansúr, of the imperial city of Baghdád, upon the banks of the Tigris, and the removal of the government from Damascus thither, was very prejudicial to the interests of the Christian population of Syria, who were now treated with great harshness, deprived of the privileges granted them by former monarchs, and subjected to every form of extortion and persecution.

In 786 the celebrated Harún er Rashíd, familiar to us as the hero of the ‘Arabian Nights,’ succeeded his father, El Hádí, in the caliphate.

This prince was illustrious alike for his military successes, and his munificent patronage of learning and science; and although his glory is sullied by one act of barbarity and jealous meanness—the murder of his friend and minister, Ja‘afer el Barmaki, and the whole of the Barmecide family—he seems to have well merited his title of Er Rashíd, “the Orthodox,” or “Upright.”

The cordial relations between the East and West, brought about by his alliance with the Emperor Charlemagne, were productive of much good to the Christian community in Syria and Palestine, and more especially in Jerusalem, where churches were restored, and hospices and other charitable institutions founded, by the munificence of the Frank emperor.

In the year 796 new and unexpected troubles came upon Palestine. A civil war broke out between two of the border-tribes—the Beni Yoktán and the Ismaelíyeh,—and the country was devastated by hordes of savage Bedawín. The towns and villages of the west were either sacked or destroyed, the roads were rendered impassable by hostile bands, and those places which had not suffered from the incursions of the barbarians were reduced to a state of protracted siege. Even Jerusalem itself was threatened, and, but for the bravery of its garrison, would have again been pillaged and destroyed. The monasteries in the Jordan valley experienced the brunt of the Arabs’ attack, and one after another was sacked; and, last of all, that of Már Saba—which, from its position, had hitherto been deemed impregnable—succumbed to a blockade, and many of the inmates perished.

On the death of Harún, his three sons contended fiercely for the throne; the Mussulman empire was again involved in civil dissensions, and Palestine, as usual, suffered most severely in the wars. The churches and monasteries in and around Jerusalem were again laid waste, and the great mass of the Christian population was obliged to seek safety in flight.

El Mamún having at last triumphed over his brothers, and established himself firmly in the caliphate, applied his mind with great ardour to the cultivation of literature, art, and science. It was at his expense, and by his orders, that the works of the Greek philosophers were translated into the Arabic language by ‘Abd el Messiah el Kendí, who, although a Christian by birth and profession, enjoyed a great reputation at the Court of Baghdád, where he was honoured with the title of Feilsúf el Islam—“The Philosopher of Mohammedanism.”

Since their establishment on the banks of the Tigris, the Abbasside caliphs had departed widely from the ancient traditions of their race; and the warlike ardour and stern simplicity, which had won so vast an empire for ‘Omar and his contemporaries, presently gave way to effeminate luxury and useless extravagance. But although this change was gradually undermining their power, and tending to the physical degeneracy of the race, it was not unproductive of good; and the immense riches and careless liberality of the caliphs attracted to the Court of Baghdád the learned men of the Eastern world. The Arabs were not an inventive, but they were eminently an acquisitive people, and,

“Græcia capta ferum victorem cepit,”

the nations conquered by their arms were made to yield up intellectual as well as material spoils. They had neither art, literature, nor science of themselves, and yet we are indebted to them for all three; for what others produced and neglected, they seized upon and made their own. Born in the black shapeless “tents of Shem,” and nursed amidst monotonous scenery, the Arabs could conceive no grander structure than the massive tetragonal Ka‘abah; but Persia was made to supply them with the graceful forms and harmonious colours suggested by the flower-gardens of Iran.[^[38]] The art of painting, cultivated with so much success in Persia even at the present day, found but little favour with the iconoclast followers of Mohammed; but its influence is seen in the perfection to which mural decoration, writing, and illumination have been brought by the professors of Islam. Caligraphy has been cultivated in the East to an extent which can be scarcely conceived in this country; and the rules which govern that science are, though more precise, founded on æsthetic principles as correct as those of fine art-criticism here.

[38]. Nearly all the technical terms used in Arab architecture are Persian—an additional proof that the so-called Saracenic style is of foreign and not native origin.

A people whose hereditary occupation was war and plunder, and who looked upon commerce as a degrading and slavish pursuit, were not likely to make much progress, even in simple arithmetic; yet, when it was no longer a mere question of dividing the spoils of a caravan, but of administering the revenues and regulating the frontiers of conquered countries, then the Saracens both appreciated and employed the exact mathematical sciences of India.

“The Arabs’ registers are the verses of their bards,” was the motto of their Bedawín forefathers, but the rude lays of border-warfare and pastoral life were soon found unsuited to their more refined ideas; while even the cultivation of their own rich and complex language was insufficient to satisfy their literary taste and craving for intellectual exercise. Persia therefore was again called in to their aid, and the rich treasures of historical and legendary lore were ransacked and laid bare, while later on the philosophy and speculative science of the Greeks were eagerly sought after and studied.

Jerusalem also profited by Mamún’s peaceful rule and æsthetic tastes, and the Haram buildings were thoroughly restored. So completely was this done that the Masjid may be almost said to owe its present existence to El Mamún; for had it not been for his care and munificence, it must have fallen into irreparable decay. I have already mentioned the substitution of El Mamún’s name for that of the original founder, ‘Abd el Melik, in the mosaic inscription upon the colonnade of the Cubbetes Sakhrah; inscriptions, implying the same wilful misstatement of facts, are found upon large copperplates fastened over the doors of the last-named building. Upon these we read, after the usual pious invocations and texts, the following words: “Constructed by order of the servant of God, ‘Abdallah el Mamún, Commander of the Faithful, whose life may God prolong! during the government of the brother of the Commander of the Faithful, Er Rashíd, whom God preserve! Executed by Sáleh ibn Yahyah, one of the slaves of the Commander of the Faithful, in the month Rabí‘ el Ákhir, in the year 216.” (May, A.D. 831.) It is inconceivable that so liberal and intellectual a prince should have sanctioned such an arrogant and transparent fiction; and we can only attribute the misstatement to the servile adulation of the officials entrusted with the carrying-out of the restorations.

The Christian patriarch Thomas now sought for an opportunity to restore the ruined Church of the Holy Sepulchre, and the occasion was not long wanting. One of those great plagues of locusts, which from time to time devastate Jerusalem, had just visited the city; the crops entirely failed in consequence of their depredations, and as a famine appeared imminent, every Mohammedan who could afford to do so quitted the city, with his family and household effects, until a more convenient season. Thus secured from interruption, the patriarch proceeded to put his plan into execution, and, aided by the contributions of a wealthy Egyptian named Bocam, set about rebuilding the church. The Muslims, on their return, were astonished and annoyed to find that the Christian temple had risen again from its ruins with such magnificent proportions that the newly-restored glories of their own Masjid were quite thrown into the shade. The Patriarch Thomas and other ecclesiastical dignitaries were accused of a contravention of the treaty under which they enjoyed their immunities and privileges, and were thrown into prison pending the inquiry. The principal charge against them, and one which embodied the whole cause of complaint, was that the dome of the Church of the Holy Sepulchre overtopped that of the Cubbet es Sakhrah. By a miserable subterfuge, to which we have already referred, the patriarch threw the onus of proof upon his accusers, and declared that his dome had been restored exactly upon the original plan, and that the dimensions of the former one had been rigidly observed. This deliberate falsehood the Mohammedans were unable to disprove, notwithstanding the direct evidence of their senses to the contrary, and the prisoners were perforce set at liberty, and the charge abandoned. Equity, either in its technical or ordinary sense, is not a distinguishing characteristic of Muslim law-courts, but in this case no one suffered by the omission but themselves.

Mamún’s brother, El Mo‘tasim Billah, succeeded him upon the throne. In the year 842 a fanatical chieftain, named Temím Abu Háreb, headed a large army of desperadoes, and, after some temporary successes in Syria, made himself master of Jerusalem. The churches and other Christian edifices were only saved from destruction on the payment of a large ransom by the patriarch; on receiving this, the insurgents vacated the city, and were shortly afterwards entirely defeated by the caliph’s forces.

A wonderful story is told of the great earthquake which took place in the year 846 A.D.: namely, that in the night, the guards of the Cubbet es Sakhrah were suddenly astonished to find the dome itself displaced, so that they could see the stars and feel the rain splashing upon their faces. Then they heard a low voice saying gently, “Put it straight again,” and gradually it settled down into its ordinary state.

The power of the caliphs was now upon the wane: the disorders consequent upon the introduction of Turkish guards at Baghdád by El Mo‘tassem first weakened their authority; but the revolt of the Carmathians in 877, during the reign of El Mo‘tammed Billah, struck the first fatal blow against the House of Abbas. The sect of the Carmathians was founded by a certain Hamdán, surnamed Carmat. His doctrines consisted in allegorising the text of the Cor’án and the precepts of Islamism, and in substituting for their exterior observance other and fanciful duties. Carmat was an inhabitant of the neighbourhood of Basora, and his sect took its origin in that place, and soon spread over the whole of Irak and Syria. Under a chief, named Abu Táher, these fanatics defeated the Caliph el Moktader Billah, and held possession of the whole of the Syrian desert. With a force of more than a hundred and seven thousand men, Abu Táher took Rakka, Baalbekk, Basra, and Cufa, and even threatened the imperial city of Baghdád itself. The caliph made strenuous exertions to suppress the rebellion, but his soldiers were defeated, and his general taken captive and treated with the utmost indignities. A strange story is told of this struggle, which illustrates the fierce fanaticism and blind devotion of Abu Táher’s followers. A subordinate officer from the Mussulman army penetrated to the rebel camp, and warned the chief to betake himself to instant flight. “Tell your master,” was the reply, “that in all his thirty thousand troops he cannot boast three men like these.” As he spoke, he bade three of his followers to put themselves to death; and without a murmur, one stabbed himself to the heart, another drowned himself in the waters of the Tigris, and a third flung himself from a precipice and was dashed to pieces. Against such savages as these, the luxurious squadrons of Baghdád could do nothing—they were ignominiously defeated; and the Carmathians roamed whithersoever they pleased, and devastated the country with fire and sword. In 929 Mecca itself was pillaged, thirty thousand pilgrims slain, and the black stone, the special object of adoration to the true believer, was carried off. This circumstance caused another diversion in favour of Jerusalem; the Ka‘abah was again deserted, and crowds of devotees flocked from all parts of the Mohammedan world, to prostrate themselves before the Holy Rock of David. For the Christian inhabitants of Jerusalem the change was an unfortunate one: Mussulman bigotry was again in the ascendant in the Holy City, and we learn that in 937 the church of Constantine was destroyed, and the churches of Calvary and the Resurrection once more ruined and despoiled.

A few years later the “black stone” was restored and the Ka‘abah and Mecca were once more opened for the Mohammedan pilgrims. The Carmathians themselves were suppressed, and their legions dispersed; but the seeds of religious and political heresy were sown broadcast throughout Islam, and were destined speedily to bring forth most disastrous fruit.

Since the conquests of ‘Omar and his generals, no successful attempt had been made to recover the eastern provinces for the Grecian Empire; but in the reign of the Caliph El Motí‘ al Illah, a movement was made, which threatened to wrest the sceptre from the hands of the Muslim princes, and restore the pristine glory of the Byzantine arms. Nicephorus Phocas and his murderer, John Zimisces, having successively married Theophania, the widow of Romanus, emperor of Constantinople, though nominally regents, really held the supreme command, and during a period of twelve years (A.D. 963-975) gained a series of brilliant victories over the Saracens. The whole of Syria was conquered, and Baghdád itself would have fallen, but for the prompt measures and stern resolution of the Bowide lieutenant, who compelled his imperial master to provide for the defence of the capital. Satisfied, however, with the rich plunder they had already obtained, the Greeks retired without attacking the town, and returned in triumph to Constantinople, leaving Syria to bear the brunt of the Muslim’s anger and revenge.

A bloody persecution of the Christians was the result, and the churches of the East were once more exposed to the assaults of iconoclastic fanaticism. Jerusalem suffered severely in the reaction; the Church of the Holy Sepulchre was destroyed; and the patriarch, suspected of treasonous intercourse with the Greeks, was taken prisoner and burnt alive.

The establishment of independent dynasties in various parts of the empire, by the revolts of the provincial governors, had been for some time a source of danger to the Abbasside power, and ultimately accomplished the downfall of the dynasty.

The Aglabites in Africa, the Taherites in Khorassan, the house of Bowíyeh in Persia, had, one by one, fallen off from their allegiance, and the authority of the caliphs extended scarcely beyond the walls of Baghdád; and even in the capital itself they lingered on with fluctuating fortune, alternately the tools or victims of rival factions.

The alienation of Egypt—involving, as it nearly always did, that of Syria as well—more immediately affected the fortunes of Jerusalem, and therefore merits a rather more circumstantial account.

In the year 868 Ahmed ibn Túlún, the son of a Turkish slave, who had been appointed viceroy of Egypt by the Caliph el M‘otazz Billah, rebelled against his master’s authority, and assumed the style and title of Sultán, or independent sovereign. The kingdom remained in his family about thirty years, when it was retaken by Mohammed ibn Suleimán, general of the Caliph el Moktadhí Billah, and the authority of the Abbassides was again established in Egypt. This state of things, however, continued but for a short time, and in 936 the government of Egypt was again usurped by a Turk named Ikhshíd, who, after some opposition from the troops of the Er Rádhí Billah (the last of the caliphs who enjoyed the authority or deserved the name), obtained undisputed possession of Syria. He was nominally succeeded by his sons, but the government remained in the hands of his black slave, Káfúr, who ultimately contrived to seat himself upon the throne. At his death the kingdom passed to ‘Alí el Ikshíd, a nephew of the founder of the family; but, after a short reign of one year, he was deposed (A.D. 970) by Jauher, the general of El Mo‘ezz li dín Allah, fourth of the Fatemite caliphs.

This dynasty (the Fatemite, or Ismáïlí) was the most formidable of all who had resisted the authority of the caliphs of Baghdád; for it was not as the insurgent possessors of a province that they asserted their independence, but, as legitimate heirs, they disputed their master’s title to the caliphate itself.

The family traced its origin to Mohammed, through Fatimah, wife of ‘Alí ibn Abi Táleb, and daughter of the prophet; and on the strength of this illustrious pedigree, they claimed to be the true successors of the prophet, and rightful heirs to the supreme authority. Their pretensions were combated with great obstinacy by the Abbasside princes, but there seems good reason for believing that their claims were well-grounded. The founder of the house was one ‘Obeid Allah, who, at the head of a number of political and religious fanatics, had succeeded in establishing himself in Irák and Yemen. After a series of romantic adventures, he made himself master of Africa (A.D. 910), where he assumed the title and authority of Caliph, and gave himself out to be the Mehdí, or last of the Imáms, foretold by Mohammed. At his death, which happened in A.D. 934, he was succeeded by his son, Al Cáïm bi Amr Illah, who reigned until A.D. 946. His son, El Mansúr Ismael, then came to the throne, and dying in 952, the caliphate passed into the hands of El Mo‘ezz li dín Allah Abu Temím Ma’ad. It was this prince who conquered Egypt and founded the city of Cairo, which then became the seat of empire. He died in 969, and was succeeded by his son El ‘Azíz billah Abu Mansúr Nizár. His death happened in October, A.D. 996; and the caliphate then passed to El Hakem bi Amr Illah, about whom it will be necessary to speak more in detail.

Hakem was born at Cairo on the 23rd of August, 985 A.D., and was consequently only eleven years and five months old when he ascended the throne. His father had assigned the guardianship of the young prince, during his minority, to a white eunuch named Barjewán; but the real power was vested in a certain Ibn ‘Ammár, who had previously exercised the functions of Cádhi ul Codhát, or chief magistrate, and whom Hakem had been obliged to appoint as his prime minister. About the year 996, Hakem, or rather Ibn Ammár, had sent Suleimán ibn Ja‘afer (better known as Abu Temím Ketámí) to be governor-general of Syria. Manjutakín, the governor who had been thus superseded, marched against Suleimán; but he was defeated near Ascalon, and sent a prisoner to Cairo. Abu Temím was now invested with the governor-generalship of Syria, and proceeded to Tiberias, where he fixed his residence, and appointed his brother ‘Alí to replace him at Damascus. At first the inhabitants of that city refused to recognise his authority; but Abu Temím having written them a threatening letter, they proffered their submission, and asked pardon for having resisted. ‘Alí refused to listen to their excuses, attacked the city, and put a number of the inhabitants to death; but, on the arrival of Abu Temím himself, order was at last restored. The governor-general then proceeded to occupy himself with the reduction of the maritime ports of Syria, and dismissing Jaish ibn Samsamah from the government of Tripoli, gave the post to his own brother ‘Alí. Jaish at once returned to Egypt, where he made common cause with Barjewán against Ibn ‘Ammár. The latter was not idle, and in the meantime had laid a deep plot against the life of his rival and his associates. Barjewán, however, obtained information of the plot; open hostilities were commenced, and Ibn ‘Ammár was defeated, and compelled to seek safety in concealment. Barjewán now succeeded to the duties and responsibilities of his office, and appointed as his secretary one Fahd ibn Ibrahím, a Christian, to whom he gave the title of Reis. At the same time he wrote privately to the principal officers and inhabitants of Damascus, inciting them to rise and attack Abu Temím. Abu Temím thus found himself assailed at a moment when he least expected it; his treasures were pillaged, all his immediate followers were killed, and he himself was but too glad to escape by flight. While Damascus was thus suddenly exposed to all the horrors of civil war, the other provinces of Syria were agitated by diverse insurrections. In the same year (A.D. 997) the Tyrians had revolted, and placed at their head a fellah named Olaka; while Mofarrij ibn Daghfal ibn Jerráh had also headed a party of insurgents, and was making raids in the neighbourhood of Ramleh. The Greeks, under a general named Ducas, were also, at the same time, laying siege to the castle of Apameus. Meanwhile, Barjewán had committed the government of Syria to Jaish ibn Samsamah, who at once repaired to Ramleh, where he found his deposed predecessor Abu Temím, and sent him a prisoner to Egypt. After this he despatched Husein—a great-grandson of Hamdan, the founder of the Carmathian sect—to quell the insurrection at Tyre. Olaka, being besieged both by land and sea, sought the aid of the Greek emperor, who sent several vessels filled with troops to the relief of the city. The Mussulman vessels encountered this squadron before their arrival at Tyre; the Greeks were defeated, and put to flight with considerable loss. Tyre, thus deprived of its last hope of resistance, fell into the hands of Husein, who sacked the city, and put the inhabitants to the sword. Olaka himself fled to Egypt, where he was arrested and crucified. The new governor-general (Jaish) marched against Mofarrij ibn Jerráh, put the latter to flight, and shortly afterwards entered Damascus, where he was received with every mark of submission and obedience. The complete rout of the Grecian army followed shortly afterwards, and Jaish having, by a coup d’état, massacred all the powerful chiefs at Damascus whom he suspected of disaffection to his rule, established himself firmly in the government of Syria.

Barjewán now wielded the sovereign authority, Hakem remaining more of a puppet in his hands than ever he had been in those of Ibn ‘Ammár. But the eunuch’s triumph was shortlived. Barjewán had frequently applied to Hakem, during the infancy of the latter, the contemptuous name of “The Lizard,” and this indignity rankled in the young caliph’s breast. One morning (on the 15th of April, 999 A.D.) he sent a message to his guardian, couched in the following words: “The little lizard has become a huge dragon, and calls for thee!” Barjewán hastened, all trembling, into the presence of Hakem, who then and there ordered him to be beheaded.

About the year 1000 Hakem began to exhibit those eccentricities of character which ultimately betrayed him into such preposterous fancies and pretensions. He began to promenade the city on horseback every night, and on these occasions the inhabitants of Cairo vied with each other in illuminations, banquets, and other festive displays. As no limit was observed in these amusements, and a great deal of licentiousness was the natural result, the caliph forbade any woman to leave her house after nightfall, and prohibited the men from keeping their shops open after dusk. During the next two years, Hakem displayed an unbounded zeal for the Shiah sect, inflicting indignities upon “the enemies of ‘Alí,” and even putting many distinguished Sunnís to death. At the same time he commenced a rigorous persecution of the Jews and Christians: the more eminent persons of both religions were compelled either to embrace the Mohammedan creed, or to submit to an entire confiscation of their property—and, in many cases, to undergo a violent death; while the common people were robbed and illtreated on all sides, and obliged to wear a ridiculous uniform, to distinguish them from their Muslim neighbours.

Between the years 1004 and 1005, he became more extravagant and ridiculous in his behaviour than before. He prohibited the sale of certain vegetables, ordered that no one should enter the public baths without drawers upon pain of death, and caused anathemas to be written up, over the doors of all the mosques, against the first three caliphs, and all those persons whom history mentions as having been inimical to the family and succession of ‘Alí. About this time he began to hold public assemblies, in which the peculiar doctrines of the Fatemite or Batení sect were taught, and Muslims of all classes and both sexes presented themselves in crowds for initiation.