David offered to accept the challenge of the uncircumcised giant, and in

spite of his brothers’ ridicule his words were repeated to Saul. As a

shepherd he had already proved his strength and daring by slaying both a

lion and a bear; he was now ready to face the Philistine and redeem the

honour of Israel. At first the Israelitish king insisted that he should

be armed, and he was accordingly equipped in the usual Hebrew fashion

with helmet, cuirass, and sword. But the young shepherd felt restricted

and awkward in these unaccustomed accoutrements; nor did he know how to

manage the sword. He therefore stripped them from him, and boldly

approached the Philistine champion with his shepherd’s sling and five

‘smooth stones.’ These he knew how to wield, and with such effect that

one of the stones penetrated the forehead of the Philistine, who fell

dead to the ground. Then his conqueror dissevered his head with his own

sword, while the Israelites shouted and pursued the panic-stricken enemy

to the gates of Ekron.[434] Saul had inquired in vain through Abner, the

commander-in-chief of the army, whose son the young champion of Israel

was; and it was not until David had presented himself before the king,

with the head of the Philistine in his hand, that he learned from his

own lips that he was the son of his ‘servant Jesse the Beth-lehemite.’

David’s fortune was made; Saul at once incorporated him in his

bodyguard, and a warm friendship began between him and Jonathan, a

friendship that ceased only with Jonathan’s death. David was fresh and

handsome, with a charm of manner and a ready tact which won the hearts

of those he was with. It was not long, therefore, before he became first

the favourite, then the general, and eventually the son-in-law of the

Israelitish king.

The other account of David’s introduction to Saul brings Samuel once

more upon the stage. The ‘neighbour’ better than Saul proves to be

David, whom Samuel is accordingly sent to Beth-lehem to anoint secretly.

He goes there under the pretence of wishing to offer a sacrifice, to

which he invites Jesse and his sons. The elders of the city receive him

with fear and trembling, and ask if he has come in peace. He is known to

be the enemy of the king, and his arrival in a city of Judah bodes

nothing good. The sons of Jesse are passed in review before him; none of

them, however, is approved, and the seer asks if there is still no

other. Thereupon Jesse tells him that there is yet the youngest, who is

in the fields tending the sheep. Samuel bids him be sent for, and in

spite of his terror of Saul and the secrecy of his mission, anoints the

youth ‘in the midst of his brethren.’ Then the spirit of Yahveh comes

upon David, and an evil spirit from Yahveh takes possession of Saul.

Saul still reigns, indeed, but the mystic power conferred by the

consecration, which had given him the right to do so, has henceforth

passed to another.

The ‘evil spirit’ shows itself in fits of moody depression, which at

times become insanity. Saul’s mind, always excitable, loses its balance;

he is oppressed by a settled melancholy, which is now and again broken

by outbursts of ungovernable rage. His servants determine that the evil

spirit can be charmed away only by music, and one of them recommends

David, the Beth-lehemite shepherd, who is not only a valiant ‘man of

war,’ but also a skilful player upon the harp. David is hereupon

summoned to the court, where his harping cures the king, who makes him

his armour-bearer.

Such are the two narratives of David’s introduction to Saul. It is plain

that they exclude one another. The king’s handsome armour-bearer, who

soothes his mind and banishes his melancholy by music, cannot be the

shepherd-lad who brings the loaves of home-made bread to his brothers,

and whose very name and parentage are unknown to Saul and Abner. And yet

there are points in each narrative which seem to be historical. It is

true that in a later passage the death of Goliath is ascribed to a

certain El-hanan; but the passage is corrupt, and though the Chronicler

must have had an equally corrupt text before him,[435] it is possible he

may be right in making the Philistine slain by El-hanan the brother of

Goliath. At all events, the fact that the sword of the giant of Gath was

preserved at Nob and was there handed over to David on his flight from

Saul, shows that the death of Goliath must have happened while Saul was

reigning and that David had been the hero of the deed. The priest

expressly says that it was ‘the sword of Goliath the Philistine whom

thou slewest in the valley of Elah.’ On the other hand, David was famous

as a musician, and was even said to have invented instruments of music

(Am. vi. 5), while Saul’s fits of depression were also historical; and

the description given of David’s appearance (1 Sam. xvi. 12) is that of

one who had seen him. Perhaps the harp-playing before the king followed

David’s enrolment in Saul’s bodyguard, and was one of the means whereby

he gained the heart of his royal master.

Are we to accept the anointing by Samuel as a historical incident, or

are the modern critics right in asserting that the story is an

invention, the object of which was to claim for the founder of the

Judæan monarchy the same consecration at the hands of the great Hebrew

seer as that which had been bestowed upon Saul? That David was actually

anointed by a messenger of Yahveh admits of little doubt. Apart from

Psalm lxxxix. 20, the date of which is questionable, and which may refer

to the coronation in Hebron, it is clear from incidental notices in the

historical books of the Old Testament that such consecration by a

prophet or seer was felt to be a necessary prelude to the usurpation of

a throne. It was thus that both Jehu and Hazael were incited to seize

the crowns of Samaria and Damascus.[436] The use of oil in religious

ritual went back to the days when Babylonian culture was predominant in

Western Asia, and the religious texts of Babylonia contain many

references to it. That the prophet was anointed for his office, we know

from the history of Elisha.

On the other hand, it is difficult to conceive that David’s brother

would have treated him with the contempt to which he gave utterance in

the valley of Elah (1 Sam. xvii. 28) had he really been a witness to his

consecration as king, and David’s future friendship with Jonathan, the

heir-apparent to the throne, would have been more than hypocritical.

Possibly the period of the consecration has been transferred from a time

when David had become the son-in-law of Saul and the friend and guest of

Samuel (1 Sam. xix. 18-22) to an earlier time in David’s life to which

it is inappropriate.[437]

Abner, the cousin of Saul, remained the commander-in-chief of the

Israelitish army, the Turtannu or Tartan, as the Assyrians would have

called him. David, however, was made a general—‘the captain of a

thousand’ was the exact title. The desultory war with the Philistines

still continued, and the new general soon justified his appointment. But

his successes and his popularity with the army aroused the jealousy of

the king. Saul began to plot against his life and to hope that he might

fall in one of the skirmishes with the enemy. Merab, Saul’s elder

daughter, had been promised to him in marriage, but she was given to

another, and though her younger sister Michal was offered in her place,

Saul stipulated that David should bring him instead of a dowry a hundred

foreskins of the Philistines. It was the Egyptian mode of counting the

slain, which is still practised in Abyssinia; when Meneptah II. defeated

the Libyans and their northern allies, the number of the enemy who had

fallen was determined partly by the hands, partly by the foreskins cut

off from the slain. The hundred foreskins demanded by Saul were doubled

by David, who thereupon received Michal as his wife.

Saul had already, in one of his fits of frenzy, made an attempt on

David’s life. The day before he had heard the women welcoming David as

he returned from ‘the slaughter of the Philistine’[438] with sounds of

music and the refrain: ‘Saul hath slain his thousands and David his ten

thousands.’ The king brooded over the words, until in his moments of

insanity they overpowered all prudence and restraint. When he recovered

they still sounded in his ears, and his feigned friendship towards his

son-in-law concealed murder in his heart.

At last he openly avowed his desire to be rid of his supposed enemy; and

though in his saner hours he still shrank from murdering him with his

own hand, he suggested both to Jonathan and to his retainers that they

should do so. David, in truth, was becoming a formidable rival. He was

idolised by the army, was popular among the people, and was a member by

marriage of the royal house. He was, moreover, a Jew; and the tribe of

Judah was now beginning to rise into importance and to realise its own

strength. Above all, Samuel and the priests were at bitter feud with

Saul, and favourably disposed to David.

Jonathan betrayed his father’s secret to his unsuspecting friend, and

bade him await the issue of an appeal to the better nature of Saul. The

appeal was successful, and for a time Saul laid aside his suspicions and

there was apparent, if not real, harmony once more between him and his

son-in-law. But another success against the Philistines revived the evil

passions of the king. Again the old depression and gloom came upon him,

and David’s harp, instead of dissipating it, transformed it into

madness. Suddenly he flung his spear at the player, who slipped aside

and fled. The time for mediation and forgiveness was passed. David could

no longer be safe in the presence of a madman who was bent on taking his

life. Royal guards were even sent to watch David’s house, and he escaped

only with the help of his wife. In the night she let him down through

the window of his room, and laid on the bed in his place the image of

the household god covered with a sheet. When the king’s guards arrived

to take him she pretended that he was sick, and it was not until they

had come a second time that they discovered they had been deceived. Saul

reproached his daughter for abetting her husband’s escape; but it was

too late, and David had made his way to the house of Samuel at Ramah.

Here, however, he was not yet safe from pursuit, and he and the seer

accordingly took refuge in the sacred enclosure of the Naioth or

monastery. There, surrounded by the prophet-dervishes, they felt that

even the king in the madness of disappointed fury would not venture to

violate their sanctuary.

That Samuel also should have been compelled to shelter himself from

Saul’s anger, and that David on escaping from Gibeah should at once have

gone to him, makes it evident that the king at least believed in the

complicity of the seer in the plot against his throne. It also raises

the presumption that Saul’s belief was justified, and that Samuel had

played the same part towards David that Ahijah subsequently played

towards Jeroboam, and Elijah towards Jehu. That David and Samuel were

acquainted with one another seems clear; indeed, Gibeah and Ramah were

so close to each other that it would have been strange if the politic

David had not visited the old seer. Had it been on the occasion of one

of these visits that the rising rival of Saul was anointed with the

consecrated oil?

David remained safe in sanctuary. The messengers sent by Saul to fetch

him from it fell under the influence of the place, and joined the

dervishes in their ecstatic exercises; and when Saul himself followed

them, he too was infected by the religious excitement around him. One of

the sources used by the compiler of the books of Samuel ascribes to this

occasion the origin of the saying: ‘Is Saul also among the

prophets?’[439]

But as in the case of the introduction of David to Saul, there is again

a double account of his escape. The two narratives are equally worthy of

credit from a historical point of view, yet it is difficult to reconcile

them together. The compiler has endeavoured to do so by supposing that

David ‘fled’ from the monastery of Ramah to Jonathan after Saul’s return

to Gibeah. But this only makes the difficulty of harmonising the two

accounts the greater. If we accept them both, the only way of

reconciling them is to suppose that a considerable interval of time

elapsed between the events recorded in them, that in the monastery of

Ramah peace was once more established between David and his

father-in-law, and that David consequently returned to his accustomed

place at court. In this case, the statement of the compiler that the

second narrative follows immediately upon the first would be a mistaken

inference.[440]

According to the second account, David came to Jonathan and assured him

that Saul was determined to take away his life. Jonathan protested that

this was impossible, although he had himself previously warned his

friend that such was the case,[441] on the ground that his father

concealed nothing from him. It was then agreed that Jonathan should

discover Saul’s intentions and reveal them three days later to David,

who should meanwhile hide himself in the fields. Jonathan was to shoot

three arrows, and send a boy to gather them up. If he told the boy they

were on the hither side of David’s hiding-place, it meant that all was

well; if, on the contrary, he said they were beyond it, David would know

that his life was in danger. The day following was the feast of the New

Moon, when David ought to have dined with the king. But his place was

empty; only Abner sat by the side of Saul, whose seat was, as usual, ‘by

the wall.’ Saul said nothing, thinking that David was absent for

ceremonial reasons; but when on the next day the place was again empty,

he asked Jonathan what had become of him. Jonathan replied, as had been

agreed upon, that he had given David permission to go to Beth-lehem to

take part in an annual sacrifice of the family. But the answer did not

deceive his father. Saul broke forth into reproaches, accusing Jonathan

of rebellion and folly in preferring friendship to self-interest, and in

saving the life of one who would use it to deprive him of the crown.

Jonathan replied; and the king, mad with rage, flung his spear at his

own son, who left the table and made his way to the place where David

was concealed. There he gave the signal by which David knew that he must

flee for his life, and while the lad was picking up the arrows the two

friends embraced and parted, perhaps for the last time.

David fled to Nob. The priests of Shiloh had settled in it, and he

believed therefore that he would find a shelter there. But Ahimelech was

afraid of Saul; he knew that the king bore no goodwill to his

son-in-law, and it was strange that David should be alone. David,

however, had a ready answer to the question why ‘no man’ was with him.

Saul had sent him out in haste on a secret mission, and his servants

accordingly had been ordered to wait for him ahead. The haste indeed was

such that he had brought with him neither food nor weapons. The priest

had only the shewbread to offer, and at first hesitated about giving it

to those who were not Levites. But David overcame his scruples, assuring

him that his companions had ‘kept themselves from women’ for the past

three days, and that the vessels they carried with them were clean. At

the same time he took Goliath’s sword which had been dedicated to

Yahveh, and lay behind the ephod wrapped in a cloth. Then he continued

his flight, and did not rest until he found himself at the court of the

old enemy of Israel, Achish the son of Maoch, king of Gath.[442]

Recent criticism has maintained that this first visit to Achish of Gath

is but a duplicate version of David’s second visit to the same prince,

like the duplicate accounts of his introduction to Saul and flight from

the Israelitish court. The two visits, however, clearly belong to

different periods of time, and the different treatment experienced by

the fugitive at the hands of the king of Gath was due to the wholly

different circumstances under which he arrived there on the two

occasions. The solitary and defenceless exile, flying for his life from

his own countrymen, was a very different person from the leader of a

numerous band of reckless and well-armed adventurers who came to offer

their services as mercenaries in war. A more serious difficulty is the

fact that Achish, the son of Maoch or Maachah, was still reigning over

Gath in the third year of Solomon (1 Kings ii. 39). But the long reign

of about fifty years, which this presupposes, is no impossibility;

Ramses II. of Egypt, for example, was sixty-seven years on the throne.

David did not remain long in Gath. The Philistines could not forget that

he had been one of their most formidable adversaries, and there must

have been some among them who had blood-feuds to avenge upon him. The

fugitive servant of Saul was no longer to be feared, but there were many

voices crying for his life. For a while Achish was inclined to protect

him in the hope of using him against his countrymen, but how long this

protection would last was doubtful. David accordingly feigned himself

mad, he scrabbled on the gates, and let the spittle fall on his unshorn

beard. The Philistine king gave up all hope of making him his tool, and

allowed him to quit the court. David thereupon made his way to the home

of his boyhood, and took refuge in the limestone caves of Adullam, a few

miles to the south-west of Beth-lehem.

Here at last he was safe. He was among his own tribesmen, in a district

well known to him, and in a place of refuge where the outlaw could defy

his pursuers. Moreover, the home of his family was not far distant, and

it was not long, accordingly, before his brothers and other relatives

joined him in his mountain stronghold. The band of outlaws increased

rapidly, and soon amounted to four hundred men. David’s abilities as a

military leader were known throughout Israel, and all the outlaws and

adventurers of Judah flocked to his standard; among them was the prophet

Gad.

David once more found himself at the head of a considerable force. The

quarrel between him and the king was assuming the character of a civil

war. It was Judah against Israel, the first revolt of the new power that

was rising in the south against the domination of the north. But the

power was still in its infancy. Against the trained veterans of the

royal army, with the prestige of legal authority and resources behind

them, the bandits of the Judæan mountains could hold their own only so

long as they remained among the limestone fastnesses of their own land.

It was like a struggle between Sicilian brigands and the regular troops;

the sympathies of the peasantry were with the brigands, and as long as

they acted on the defensive, their lives were safe.

But the mountains of Judah were barren, and it was needful for David and

his men to descend at times into the valleys and plains below, and there

levy contributions of food. These were the moments of danger. The

townsmen and owners of land could not be trusted like the peasantry;

they looked with no favourable eyes on the armed outlaws who seized what

was not freely given to them, and were ready enough to betray them to

Saul. In the towns and plains the king’s troops had the advantage;

while, on the other side, it was always possible to fall in with a body

of Philistines to whom every Israelite was a foe.

But while David was hidden in the cave of Adullam, Saul committed a deed

which shattered his kingdom and transferred the allegiance of the

priesthood to his Judæan rival. This was the massacre of the priests at

Nob. In reading the story of it we seem to have before us the words of

an eye-witness. Saul was seated under the tamarisk on the hill at

Gibeah, with his spear in his right hand, and his officers standing

around him. Suddenly he broke out into reproaches against them and

against his son. ‘Hear now, ye Benjamites; will the son of Jesse give

every one of you fields and vineyards, and make you all captains of

thousands and captains of hundreds; that all of you have conspired

against me, and there is none that sheweth me that my son hath made a

league with the son of Jesse, and there is none of you that is sorry for

me, or sheweth unto me that my son hath stirred up my servant against

me, to lie in wait, as at this day?’ Then the heathen foreigner, ‘Doeg

the Edomite which was set over the servants of Saul,’ answered and said

that he had seen David come to Ahimelech the priest at Nob, and that

there the priest had consulted Yahveh for him, had given him food and

Goliath’s sword. At once the infuriated king sent for Ahimelech and his

brother priests, and demanded of him why he had conspired with the

rebel. Ahimelech’s answer only increased his anger. David, said the

priest, was the son-in-law of the king, and his most faithful servant;

how then could he have refrained from helping him on his road?

Thereupon, Saul ordered the priests to be put to death, but no Israelite

could be found to perpetrate such an act of sacrilegious atrocity. The

Edomite, however, had no scruples; he fell with a will upon the

defenceless priests, and eighty-five of them were massacred. Saul then

descended upon Nob, ‘the city of the priests,’ and treated it like a

city of the Amalekites, smiting it with the edge of the sword, ‘both men

and women, children and sucklings, and oxen and asses and sheep.’ Only

Abiathar, the son of Ahimelech, escaped, and fled to David, carrying

with him the ephod and the oracles of God. The prophecy of the

destruction of Eli’s house was fulfilled, but in fulfilling it Saul

destroyed his own. The breach between the king and the priests was

complete; he had compelled them, and all who reverenced them, to take

the side of his rival.

It was now that David determined to send his father and mother to the

protection of the Moabite court. His great-grandmother had been a

Moabitess, and it is possible that the war between Saul and Moab,

referred to in 1 Sam. xiv. 47, was continuing at this very time. In this

case, the Moabite king would have given a ready welcome to the parents

of his enemy’s enemy. They would be hostages for David himself, and

David was a person whom it was desirable to attach to the Moabite cause.

Not only was he the son-in-law of Saul, and an able general, but he was

now at the head of a devoted body of men who were waging war on the

Israelitish king. If war was actually going on at the time between

Israel and Moab, alliance with David would divert and weaken the

Israelitish attack. Moreover, as long as David’s parents were in his

power, the king of Moab could compel the Jewish chieftain to serve and,

if need be, to fight for him.

David’s followers had increased to six hundred men, and he now felt

himself strong enough to occupy one of the Judæan cities, and make it a

centre for his war against Saul. A pretext for doing so was soon found.

Keilah was threatened by Philistine raiders, and patriotism demanded its

rescue. The city is mentioned in the Tel el-Amarna letters under the

name of Keltê; it was already a place of military importance, and was

surrounded by walls. David’s followers, however, were reluctant to leave

their retreat in the mountains and venture into a town. But the

representative of the high priests of Shiloh was now with them, and the

oracles of Yahveh, which he consulted through the ephod, admitted of no

contradiction. Keilah was accordingly occupied by David, and its

Philistine invaders repulsed. The citizens, however, showed little

gratitude towards their preservers. Perhaps they thought it was merely

an exchange of masters, and that Philistine pillage would not have been

worse than the exactions of the outlaws. Perhaps they feared the fate of

Nob for harbouring the enemy of Saul. However it might be, they sent

word to Saul that David and his men were in the town. The king marched

to Keilah without delay; had not God delivered David into his hand by

bringing him into a city that had ‘gates and bars’? But once more the

ephod was consulted, and the answer was clear. The people of Keilah were

traitors, and David’s band must seek a shelter elsewhere. This time they

fled to the wooded slopes above the wilderness of Ziph, on the eastern

side of the Dead Sea. Here David and Jonathan met once more[443] under

the shadow of the forest. But the Ziphites betrayed the hiding-place of

the outlaws, and offered to help the king to capture his foe. For a time

the hunted fugitives evaded their pursuers; spies brought David

intelligence of Saul’s movements, and the desolate wadis of Ziph and

Maon, with their deep defiles and precipitous rocks, enabled him to slip

out of the toils. But at last the game became desperate; the outlaws

were encircled on all sides, and the difficulty of procuring food must

have been great. At that moment the Philistines came to their help; a

messenger arrived in haste at the royal camp, urging the king to march

westward at once, for a Philistine army had invaded the land. David was

saved, and he now settled himself in the caves and fastnesses of the

mountains about En-gedi.

From the peaks where only the wild goats trod,[444] David could look

across the Dead Sea to the purple hills of Moab. Here, therefore, he was

in touch with the Moabites, while his inaccessible position rendered him

safe from attack. Below him was the comparatively fertile valley of

Carmel of Judah, where large flocks of sheep fed on the scanty grass. It

was the northern portion of the wilderness of Paran, and the outlaws

exacted from it their supplies of food. The supplies were usually

yielded with a good grace, and in return the shepherds and their flocks

were protected from the Bedâwin and the wild beasts. But on one occasion

the request for food met with a refusal. Nabal, a wealthy farmer at

Maon, was shearing his sheep, and refused to give any of them to the

messengers of David. Perhaps Saul was still in the neighbourhood, and he

was thus emboldened to play the part of the churl. But he was soon

taught that David was strong enough to take without asking. Four hundred

of the outlaws marched down upon Maon, bent upon making him and his

family pay with their lives for the niggardly refusal. The tact of a

woman, however, saved them, and averted the anger of David. Abigail, the

wife of Nabal, met the angry chieftain on the road with presents and

honeyed words, and her fair looks and speeches induced him to turn back.

That night Nabal was holding a shearing feast in fancied security, but

when, the next day, his wife told him of his narrow escape, and of the

band of outlaws that was still in the neighbourhood, his heart failed

him, and ‘he became as a stone.’ The shock was too great for his

strength; a few days later he died. Then Abigail, like a prudent woman,

became the wife of the outlaw, and the wealth of Nabal passed into his

hands. It was a welcome addition to David’s resources, and made him

better able to control his men. Abigail, too, proved a devoted wife,

following her husband in his wanderings, and sharing his wild life. She

was not his only wife, however, though Michal had been given by her

father to a Benjamite named Phaltiel. David, it would seem, had already

married a certain Ahinoam of Jezreel.

It was probably before the marriage of Abigail, and while Saul was still

chasing the outlaws through the wilderness of Ziph,[445] that an

incident occurred, two versions of which had reached the compiler of the

books of Samuel. Saul had with him a force of three thousand men, more

than sufficient gradually to close in upon David and cut off all his

chances of escape. Abner, the commander-in-chief, was with him, and the

king was obstinate in his determination to track his enemy to the death.

According to the one version of the story, Saul was alone in a cave;

according to the other, he was asleep at night in his camp among the

rocky crevices of Mount Hachilah. While he slept, David, with his two

companions, Ahimelech the Hittite and Abishai the brother of Joab, crept

stealthily towards him, and soon reached the unconscious king. Abishai

would have slain him with his spear, but David forbade his touching ‘the

Lord’s anointed,’ and contented himself with carrying away the spear and

cruse of water which stood at his head, or, according to the other

version, with cutting off the skirt of the royal robe. Then, standing on

the opposite side of the gorge, David reproached Abner for his careless

watch over the king. Saul recognised David’s voice, and demanded if it

were not he, whereupon David made an appeal to the king’s better nature,

asked why he was thus driving him from his country and his God, and

pointed to the trophies he had just carried off in proof of his

innocence. If he were really aiming at the throne, would he have spared

the king when Yahveh had delivered him into his hands? The impulsive

Saul yielded for the moment to the voice and words of his former

favourite, but they produced no further effect upon him. David could not

venture to send back the spear by one of his own men; it had to be

fetched by a servant of the king. David had given Saul a lesson in

generosity, but the only result of it was that he had to return to his

old hiding-place. Saul remained resolutely bent on taking his life.

Meanwhile Samuel had died, and there seemed no longer any power left in

Israel to contend against the will of the king. David began to perceive

that his cause was hopeless; he had become a mere chief of brigands, and

against him were arrayed all the forces of order and authority in the

country. It was useless to continue the struggle, and he determined,

therefore, to sell the services of himself and his followers to the

hereditary enemies of his people. Accordingly he passed over to Achish

of Gath, and entered the service of the Philistine.

The use of mercenary soldiers was no new thing. Egypt had long since set

the example, and in the age of the nineteenth dynasty the larger part of

the Egyptian army already consisted of foreigners. Many of these were

kinsfolk of the Philistines from the Greek seas. Such soldiers of

fortune were acceptable to the kings who employed them for more reasons

than one. Their lives were devoted to fighting, and therefore they were

better trained and more amenable to discipline than the native recruits,

who were levied only as occasion required. Moreover, they had everything

to gain and nothing to lose from war, unlike the peasantry, whose fields

might be ravaged while they themselves were away in the camp. Above all,

the mercenaries were faithful to their employer so long as he supplied

them with plunder or pay. They had no party feuds to avenge, no loss of

liberty to chafe at, no spirit of independence to cherish. Their swords

were at the disposal of the king, and of none else; the tyranny which

crushed his subjects found in them a willing instrument. David never

forgot the lesson which his service with Achish had taught him. When at

last he became the king of Israel, he also surrounded himself with a

bodyguard of foreign mercenaries, drawn from much the same countries as

those of the Pharaoh.

It was not as a bodyguard, however, that Achish needed the Jews. It was

rather as an auxiliary force in future contests with their countrymen.

Consequently they were allowed to settle in the country, at some

distance from Gath, and Ziklag was given them as a residence. The

outlaws had ceased to be brigands, and had become part of the regular

army of a foreign prince.

For a year and four months the Hebrew corps dwelt at Ziklag. But they

were not idle all the time. Once David led them on a raiding expedition

against the Bedâwin Amalekites of the south. Men, women, and children

were alike put to the sword, so that none might live to tell the tale.

When the Jews returned with their booty, David professed to Achish that

the raid had been directed against the Hebrews of Judah and their allies

the Kenites and Jerahmeelites. The deception was successful, and the

Philistine king rejoiced in the thought that the captain of his

mercenaries had thus for ever rendered himself hateful to his

countrymen. David had succeeded in disarming the suspicions of his

hosts, in providing his retainers with the spoil they coveted, and yet

at the same time in not alienating from himself the affections of his

own people.

But a further trial was in store for the wily exile. The quarrel between

Saul and his son-in-law had allowed the Philistines to assert once more

their old supremacy in Israel. In David the Israelites had lost one of

their chiefest generals, and the troops which should have been employed

against the common foe were occupied in hunting him through the wilds of

the Judæan mountains. The watchful enemy took speedy advantage of the

fact. Israel was again invaded; the Philistines swept the lowlands of

Judah, and prepared to march northward. Saul returned from his pursuit

of David among the trackless rocks on the shore of the Dead Sea only

just in time to prevent their penetrating again into the heart of Mount

Ephraim. The territory of Benjamin was saved for a time, and the

foreigner did not succeed in reaching the royal residence at Gibeah.

But the respite was not for long. A year and a quarter later the united

forces of the Philistine cities marched northward, along the highroad on

the coast of the Mediterranean, which had been trodden so often by the

former conquerors of Western Asia. They passed Dor, the modern Tantûra,

then occupied by their kinsfolk the Zakkal, and, turning the point of

Mount Carmel, proceeded eastward through the valley of the Kishon

towards the plain of Megiddo. It was the old fighting ground of

Palestine; its possession gave the conqueror the command of the whole

country west of the Jordan, and cut off the Israelitish king in his

rear. With the enemy established at Megiddo, Benjamin and Ephraim would

be effectually severed from the northern tribes.

Saul lost no time in proceeding against his foe. The Philistine camp had

been pitched, first at Shunem, then at Aphek, on the southern slope of

Mount Gilboa;[446] the Israelites now took up their station at a

fountain near Jezreel, a few miles to the north-west. But the sight of

the huge Philistine army, recruited, doubtless, as it had been by the

Zakkal, filled Saul with despair. His own forces were miserably

insufficient to meet it; he had lost his old confidence in Yahveh and

himself, and the priests and prophets had become his enemies. In vain he

sought counsel of Yahveh; such priests as still remained near him

refused their help, and ‘Yahveh answered him not, neither by dreams, nor

by Urim, nor by prophets.’ Abiathar and Gad were with David; the

prophets who had gathered round Samuel were now the bitter foes of the

Israelitish king.

In his despair he turned to the powers of witchcraft and necromancy. In

younger and happier days, before the massacre at Nob, when he was still

the favourite of the servants of Yahveh, still enthusiastic for the

religion of Israel, Saul had driven from his dominions all those who

professed to traffic with the powers of the unseen world. The wizards

and fortune-tellers, the enchanters and the possessed had been expelled

from the land. The fact is a proof of the influence of the Mosaic code

and religion in the priestly and royal circle.[447] Elsewhere in Western

Asia the necromancers’ trade was flourishing; Babylonia, which was the

home of the culture of Western Asia, was the home also of the arts of

magic. Here the magician was held in high honour, and the literature of

magic and omens occupied a large place in the libraries of the country.

We cannot suppose that beliefs which were held by the most cultivated

classes of Babylonia were not also shared by the mass of the population

in Canaan and Israel. And it must be remembered that outside the

Levitical law there was no suspicion or idea that those who practised

magic had dealings with spirits of evil. Heathendom drew no distinction

between spirits of good and spirits of evil; the gods themselves were

destructive as well as beneficent. The Mosaic condemnation of witchcraft

was utterly opposed to the popular belief, and Saul’s expulsion of those

who practised it proves not only the existence of the Law, but also its

recognition as the law of the state by the representatives of the

religion of Yahveh. It was a reform analogous to those of Hezekiah and

of Isaiah in later days; an attempt to conform to the Law of Yahveh,

contrary though it was to the prejudices and the practices of the time.

But the king was now forsaken by the Law and its ministers, and as a

last resource he turned to the forbidden arts. In disguise he went by

night to a witch at Endor, and begged her to raise the shade of Samuel

from the dead. And Samuel came in visible presence to the witch, though

his voice only was heard by the king. But it was a voice that pronounced

judgment. God had indeed departed from Saul and given his kingdom to

another, and the doom was about to be fulfilled. Before the morrow’s sun

was set, where Samuel was there should Saul and his sons be also, and

the host of Israel should be delivered into the hand of the Philistines.

Saul fell to the earth in a swoon; he had fasted all the previous day,

and brain and body were alike worn out.

It was an ill-omened beginning for the day of battle which followed.

Like the army of Israel, that of the Philistines was divided into

companies of a thousand men each, which were further subdivided into

companies of a hundred. Along with the native Philistines and their

allies, the band of Hebrew mercenaries marched past the five generals.

But hardly had they passed when a discussion arose as to their

trustworthiness. Achish, indeed, declared his full confidence in the

fidelity of David and his followers, but the other Philistine ‘lords’

distrusted them. The risk of employing them against their own countrymen

was too great. How could they be trusted not to desert at a critical

moment of the battle, and so make their peace with Saul by the sacrifice

of the uncircumcised foreigner? The wishes of Achish were overruled, and

David was sent back to Ziklag.

What would David have done had the result of the council been otherwise?

It has generally been assumed that the fears of the Philistine lords

were justified, and that he would have betrayed his new masters by going

over to his old one. But in that case it is probable that he would have

found some excuse for not leaving Ziklag and accompanying Achish on his

march. That he followed the Philistine army as far as the field of

battle implies that in selling his services to the king of Gath, he

accepted all the recognised consequences of the act. As he had told

Saul, it was not only from his country that he was driven out, but from

the God of his country as well. In leaving Judah for Gath he had

transferred his duties from Israel to Philistia, from Saul to Achish,

from Yahveh to Dagon. It was the first step that mattered: all else was

contained in it. The duties of the mercenary were well understood: he

ceased to have a country of his own, and became, as it were, the

property of the prince to whom his services were given. In after days,

David would have had no scruple in employing his Philistine bodyguard in

subjugating their kinsmen, any more than the Egyptians had in employing

their Sardinian or Libyan mercenaries in their wars against Libya and

the peoples of the Greek seas.

David, indeed, would not have lifted up his hand personally to attack

‘the anointed of Yahveh.’ But there was a good deal of difference

between a hand-to-hand fight between himself and Saul and assisting his

new masters in overthrowing the power of the northern tribes of Israel.

Between the Jews and these northern tribes there was always a certain

amount of smothered hostility, which broke out into actual war in the

early part of David’s reign, and eventually led to the revolt of the Ten

Tribes. It was not the Israelitish king, but the Israelitish kingdom

which David and his followers were helping to destroy.

We need not question his sincerity, therefore, when he offered his sword

to the lords of the Philistines and protested against their mistrust of

himself. Nor would the fact that he had been on the side of the

Philistine enemy have been prejudicial to his future interests, if he

already cherished the hope of being the successor of Saul. It was in

Judah, among his own tribesmen, and not in Northern Israel, that the

foundations of his kingdom were to be laid; it was only the Jews,

consequently, whose good-will it was needful for him to secure. If he

already aimed at extending his power over all Israel, a defeated and

broken Israel would be more easily won over to him than an Israel proud

of its independence and strength, and attached to the house of a

sovereign who had led them to victory.[448] David’s loyalty to Achish,

however, was never put to the test. He and his mercenaries were sent

back to Ziklag, and their dismissal from the field of battle was in

itself an insult which would serve as a pretext for a quarrel with the

Philistines should the need or opportunity for one ever arise. But when

they reached their homes, they found there only desolation and ruins.

The Bedâwin Amalekites had made a raid upon the undefended town, had

burned its buildings and carried away the women and the spoil. There was

no longer any Saul to repress their attacks, or to exact vengeance for

their incursions.

Mutiny broke out among the mercenaries. They accused David of having

torn them from their families, thus leaving Ziklag to the mercy of the

foe. He was the cause of the disaster, and they began to talk of stoning

him to death. The priest Abiathar came, however, to his rescue, and

announced through the ephod the word of Yahveh that the robbers should

be overtaken and the spoil recovered. At once, therefore, the pursuit

commenced. The Bedâwin tracks were followed in such haste that when the

desert was reached, only four hundred out of the whole band of six

hundred had strength enough to proceed. Then an Egyptian was found who

had been a slave among the Amalekites, and having fallen ill on their

retreat from Palestine had been left to die upon the road. The departure

of the Philistine army had exposed the Negeb to the attack of the

Bedâwin, and they had not been slow to take advantage of it.[449] Only

three days had elapsed since they had passed the spot where the slave

was found, and he offered himself a willing guide to the Hebrews in

their quest of his former masters. The Amalekite tents were soon

reached, and the nomads were found feasting on the abundant plunder they

had gained and dancing in fancied security. Suddenly at twilight the

Hebrews fell upon them, and an indiscriminate slaughter took place. The

massacre went on for twenty-four hours, and none of the Amalekites

escaped except about four hundred young men, who succeeded in mounting

their camels and flying beyond pursuit. All the spoil they had carried

off fell into the hands of their conquerors, including the two wives of

David himself. The flocks and herds were given to David: the rest of the

plunder was divided among his followers, the two hundred men who had

been left on the road being allowed, after some dispute, to share it

equally with their fellows.[450]

David, with characteristic foresight, sent portions of the spoil that

had been allotted to him as a ‘present’ to ‘the elders of Judah’ in the

chief towns of the tribe. The Jerahmeelites and Kenites were not

forgotten, nor the Calebites of Hebron. Some of the plunder was sent as

far south as Hormah and Zephath, as well as to Aroer and Ramoth of the

south. Reuben and Simeon had now ceased to exist as separate tribes,

Simeon having been absorbed into Judah while such cities of Reuben as

still remained Israelite had been occupied by ‘the elders of

Judah.’[451]

David’s object in sending the presents was cloaked under the pretext

that they were made to those who had befriended him in the days of his

wandering. But the pretext was more than transparent. His wanderings had

never extended to Hormah or Aroer, or even to ‘the cities of the

Jerahmeelites.’ A crown was already within measurable distance of the

Jewish chieftain: his soldier’s eye had seen that the Israelitish army

was no match for that of the Philistines, and the priests who were with

him were assured that Yahveh had forsaken Saul, and would work no

miracle in his favour. The Philistines were once more dominant in the

south, and a victory at Gilboa would make that domination secure. David

possessed the confidence of Achish, and as the vassal of the Philistines

he could count on their support were he to make himself the king of

Judah. All that was needed was the good-will of the Jewish elders, and

this his victory over the Amalekites gave him the means of purchasing.

On the other hand, were the Philistines to be defeated, and the Hebrew

army, contrary to all probability, to be victorious, David’s position

would be in nowise affected. He would still be safe among the

Philistines, out of reach of Saul, and at the head of a formidable band

of mercenary troops. The pretext for sending the presents could be urged

with some show of reason: they were merely a return to the friends who

had aided him in the time of his necessity. Now, as ever, David could

indignantly disclaim any intention of plotting against the ‘anointed of

the Lord.’

While David was thus looking after his own interests, events were

fighting for him in the north. The Israelites at Gilboa were utterly

defeated, and all Israel lay helpless at the feet of the heathen. Saul

was slain along with his three elder sons; only a minor, Esh-Baal, was

left, who was carried for safety to the eastern side of the Jordan.

Israel was without either a king or a leader; even its army was lost.

For a time the mercenaries of David were the only armed force that still

remained among the tribes of Israel.

Saul had fallen on his own sword. Wounded by an arrow, he had prayed his

armour-bearer to slay him lest he should fall still living into the

hands of his foes. But his armour-bearer refused to commit the act of

sacrilege, and the king slew himself. His body, like those of his sons,

was stripped and hung in derision from the walls of Beth-shan. But the

inhabitants of Jabesh of Gilead could not forget that Saul had once

saved them from the Ammonite, and they went by night and carried away

the ghastly trophies of Philistine victory; the bodies were first burnt,

then the ashes were buried under a tree at Jabesh, and a fast of seven

days was held for the dead.

The Philistines do not seem to have crossed the Jordan. They contented

themselves with occupying the country west of it, and garrisoning the

cities from which the Israelites had fled. The monarchy had fallen, and

the house of Israel appeared to have fallen with it. From Dan to

Beersheba the Philistine was supreme.

Deliverance came from the south, from the latest born of the Israelitish

tribes. The mixed Israelite, Edomite, and Kenite population, which had

there been slowly forming into a united community, now found a common

head and leader in the son of Jesse. David, too, was of mixed descent.

His great-grandmother had been the Moabitess Ruth, and on his father’s

side he was partly of Calebite origin.[452] Mixed races have always

shown themselves the most vigorous and the most fitted to rule, and the

history of the Israelitish monarchy is no exception to the general law.

A purely Israelitish dynasty had failed, as it was destined to do again

after the revolt of the Ten Tribes; it needed the genius and tact of the

Jewish David to establish the monarchy on a lasting basis and defend it

against all enemies.

The news of the death of the king of Israel was brought to David by an

Amalekite. He had robbed the corpse of its crown and golden bracelets

which he laid at the feet of the Jewish chief. In the hope of a reward

he had come in hot haste and pretended that he had dealt the final blow

which delivered David from his enemy, and opened to him the way to a

throne.[453] But he met with an unexpected reception. The story of the

disaster aroused in David his slumbering patriotism, his affection for

Jonathan, and his old reverence for Saul. Now that he had nothing any

longer to fear from the Hebrew king, and everything to gain by his

death, he could allow his impulse and emotions to have free play. He

turned in anger upon the messenger, demanding of him how he—a stranger

and an Amalekite—had dared to lift up his hand against the anointed of

Yahveh. Then he ordered his followers to cut down the luckless Bedâwi,

whose blood, as he told him, was upon his own head. After their recent

experience the nomad thief was likely to have but a short shrift at the

hands of the mercenaries.

In this act of vengeance there was that mixture of policy and impulse

which is the key to so many of David’s actions. On the one hand, David

freed himself from all responsibility for the death of Saul. The blood

of the king could not be required at his hand either in the form of a

blood-feud with the family of Saul, or in that of the nemesis which

waited on the shedder of blood. On the other hand, it could not be said

that he had gained the crown through the murder of the legitimate king.

Saul indeed had been slain, and David had reaped the advantage of his

death, but he had in no way connived at it. In the eyes of God and man

alike he was innocent of the deed.

David found an outlet for his feelings in a dirge which is one of the

gems of early Hebrew poetry. Future generations knew it as the Song of

the Bow; such was the name under which it was incorporated in the

collection of early Hebrew poems called the book of Jasher, and under

which David ordered that it should be learned in the schools.

‘Thy glory, O Israel, is slain upon thy high places!

How are the mighty fallen!

Tell it not in Gath,

Publish it not in the streets of Askelon;

Lest the daughters of the Philistines rejoice,

Lest the daughters of the uncircumcised triumph.

Ye mountains of Gilboa,

Let there be no dew nor rain upon you, neither fields of offerings;

For there the shield of the mighty ones was cast away,

The shield of Saul, as of one unanointed with oil.

From the blood of the slain, from the fat of the mighty,

The bow of Jonathan turned not back,

And the sword of Saul returned not empty.

Saul and Jonathan were lovely and pleasant in their lives,

And in their death they were not divided;

They were swifter than eagles,

They were stronger than lions.

Ye daughters of Israel, weep over Saul,

Who clothed you in scarlet delicately,

Who put ornaments of gold upon your apparel.

How are the mighty fallen in the midst of the battle

Jonathan is slain upon thy high places.

I am distressed for thee, my brother Jonathan;

Very pleasant hast thou been unto me:

Thy love to me was wonderful,

Passing the love of women.

How are the mighty fallen,

And the weapons of war perished!’[454]

David, however, was too practical to spend his time in useless laments.

He had relieved his feelings in a burst of lyric poetry; it was now time

to seize the opportunity which the overthrow and death of Saul had given

him. The oracle of Yahveh was consulted, and the answer was favourable;

let David march to Hebron and there offer himself as king of Judah. The

way had already been prepared: he had secured the good-will of the

Jewish elders; he was the son-in-law of the late king, and a hero of

whom his tribesmen were proud. Above all, he had behind him a body of

armed veterans and devoted adherents, the only armed force now left in

the country.

Hebron was the natural capital of Judah. It is true it had been a

Calebite settlement, but Calebites and Jews were now one. Its ancient

sanctuary had been a gathering-place for the population of the south

from time immemorial, and there was no other city which could rival its

claims to pre-eminence. Here, therefore, the representatives of Judah

assembled, and here they anointed David to be their king. The goal of so

many years of struggle and hardship, of patient waiting and politic

tact, was at length reached. David was king of Judah; it could not be

long before he became king of Israel also.

The Philistines offered no difficulties. David was their vassal; he had

shown himself loyal to them, and they were well content that he should

rule over his countrymen, and collect the tribute due from them year by

year. The territory of Judah, moreover, was small; it adjoined the

cities of the Philistines, and in case of revolt could easily be overrun

and reduced to subjection. That a rival prince should reign in the

north, thus separating the northern tribes from Judah and putting an end

to all joint action, was a further guarantee for Philistine supremacy.

The old Egyptian province of Canaan had become Palestine, the land of

the Philistines.

For seven and a half years David reigned in Hebron. Meanwhile, the

relics of the Israelitish army had found a refuge on the eastern side of

the Jordan. Here, under their old commander-in-chief Abner, the son of

Ner, they once more formed themselves into a disciplined body, and made

Esh-Baal, the surviving son of Saul, their king.[455] Esh-Baal, we are

told, reigned two years. His position was a difficult one. His rule was

titular only; all the real power of the State was in the hands of his

uncle Abner. Judah refused to acknowledge his authority, and had raised

itself into a separate kingdom under a rebel chief; the northern tribes

on the west side of the Jordan were in subjection to the heathen

conqueror who held possession of the highroad from Asia into Egypt, and

therewith of the trade and wealth that passed along it. Cut off from

Mount Ephraim, the subjects of Esh-Baal saw David, the Jewish vassal of

the Philistines, extending his sway over Benjamin, the ancestral

territory of the house of Saul, while they themselves maintained a

precarious struggle against their foes behind the fortified walls of

Mahanaim. Here they would have been under the protection of the

Ammonites, who were threatened by the same enemy as themselves.[456]

The Philistines found the task of forcing the fords of the Jordan too

dangerous or too unprofitable. Terms were made with the Israelites;

Esh-Baal became their vassal, and his nominal rule was allowed to extend

over Western Israel as far south as the frontiers of Judah. Here the two

vassal kingdoms came into collision with one another, and Israel and

Judah were engaged in perpetual war. It was a repetition of what had

been the state of Canaan in the closing days of the Egyptian empire when

the Tel el-Amarna letters passed to and fro.

Esh-Baal was merely the shadow of a king. Whether he was a minor or an

imbecile it is impossible to say with certainty; most probably he was

but a child.[457] Abner, the master of the army, was also the real

master of the kingdom. David’s rise to power must have been as

distasteful to him as it would have been to Saul, and he seized the

first opportunity of endeavouring to overthrow it. The brigand-chief had

become a king, and the outlaws who had gathered round him in the cave of

Adullam had been rewarded with posts of honour. Joab, the nephew of

David,[458] was made the commander-in-chief of the Jewish army, and the

choice was justified by the results. David owed most of his future

successes in war to the military skill and generalship of his

commander-in-chief. He himself ceased more and more to take part in

active warfare; Joab more than supplied his place, and the safety of the

king was too important to the army and its general to allow of his

risking his person in battle. David ruled at home while Joab gained

victories for him in the field.

Joab proved a faithful and a loyal servant. No suspicion was ever

breathed against him that he sought to steal the hearts of his soldiers

away from their master, and to supplant David as David had supplanted

Saul. In the evil days of rebellion and disaster that were to overtake

David, Joab never deserted him, and his restoration to the throne was

the work of his faithful general. The services, however, rendered by

Joab had their drawback. He became indispensable to the king; nay more,

he became the master of the king. As David grew old, he began to fret

under the irksome yoke; gratitude and self-interest alike forbade him to

remove his too powerful servant by those Oriental means which had given

him a wife, and up to the day of his death Joab’s power was checked only

by the influence or the intrigues of Bath-sheba.

Even in the early days when David still reigned at Hebron, there was

ill-feeling between the uncle and the nephew. The masterful nature of

Joab had asserted itself, and David was made to feel that his throne

depended on ‘the sons of Zeruiah.’ War had broken out between Esh-Baal

and David. The Jews, it would seem, had advanced northward into the

territory of Benjamin, where they were met at Gibeon by the Israelite

forces under Abner from Mahanaim. A fierce battle ensued which ended in

the defeat of the Israelite troops. Abner fled across the Jordan, the

north of Israel being in the hands of the Philistines, and the authority

of David was acknowledged as far as Mount Ephraim. The Benjamites were

forced to transfer their allegiance from the house of Saul to that of

Jesse. Nineteen Jews only had fallen in the fight, while 360 of the

enemy were left dead on the field of battle. But among the Jews was

Asahel, the younger brother of Joab, who had been slain by Abner during

his flight. It was the beginning of a blood-feud which could be

extinguished only by Abner’s death.

Abner’s military genius was no match for that of Joab, and the long war

which followed between David and Esh-Baal saw the power of the Jewish

king steadily increase. David began to assume the manners and privileges

of an Oriental despot, to multiply his wives, and to marry into the

families of the neighbouring kinglets. Four more wives were added to his

harîm, one of whom was the daughter of Talmai, the Aramaitish king of

Geshur. The alliance with Talmai had a political object; Geshur lay on

the northern frontier of Esh-Baal’s kingdom, and in Esh-Baal, therefore,

David and Talmai had a common enemy.[459] Absalom was the offspring of

the marriage with the Aramaitish princess.[460]

Enclosed between Geshur and Judah, with Benjamin lost and the north of

Israel garrisoned by the Philistines, the dynasty of Saul grew

continually weaker. The Ammonites made common cause with David (2 Sam.

xi. 2), and in the neighbouring Aramæans found further allies. Abner was

not slow in perceiving that his fortunes were linked with those of a

lost cause, and he determined to betray his nephew and his master. A

pretext was quickly found; he entered the royal harîm and spent a night

with Rizpah, the concubine of Saul. The act was equivalent to claiming

the throne, and Esh-Baal naturally ventured to protest. The protest gave

Abner the opportunity he wanted. He fell with angry words on the

helpless king, told him that his throne depended on his general’s

loyalty, and that that loyalty was at an end. Henceforth Abner’s sword

was at the service of David to transfer to him the kingdom from the

house of Saul, and to establish the rule of the Jewish prince from Dan

to Beer-sheba.

The Israelite general now sent secret messengers to David to arrange the

details of the betrayal. Abner undertook to ‘bring over’ all Israel to

David, in return for which he was to supplant Joab as the commander of

David’s army. The terms were agreed to by the Jewish king, David only

stipulating in addition that Michal should be restored to him. We are

not told what it was proposed to do with Esh-Baal; Abner’s treason,

however, involved putting him out of the way. As long as he lived there

would have been a claimant to the Israelite throne.

The plot prospered at first. Abner tampered successfully with the elders

of Israel, reminding them that they had once wanted David as their

king,[461] and that Yahveh had declared that through him alone the yoke

of the Philistines should be broken. The Benjamites also allowed

themselves to be persuaded by one of their own princes, who was at the

same time the most prominent member of the house of Saul, and Abner

accordingly went to Hebron with a troop of twenty men to announce to

David that his part of the compact had been fulfilled. But the secret

had already oozed out. Abner had timed his visit so that Joab should be

absent on a raid when he had his audience with David. Joab, however,

returned sooner than was expected, and, pretending to be ignorant of the

real object of Abner’s coming, expostulated with the king for allowing

an enemy to penetrate to the court and spy out the weak places of the

land. Meanwhile he had sent a messenger who brought Abner back to

Hebron, where he and his brother Abishai murdered the unsuspecting

Israelite, and thus avenged the blood of Asahel.

The blow was felt keenly by David, who saw in it the destruction of his

hopes. The acquisition of Israel seemed further off than ever, for the

Israelites were not likely to forgive or forget the murder of their

chief. Worst of all, perhaps, his chances of getting rid of Joab were at

an end. It was clear that the Jewish general had discovered the

treachery that had been meditated towards him, and though he was too

politic to reproach the king, it gave him a firmer hold upon David than

before. From the point of view of the monarchy, indeed, this was

fortunate, as Joab had proved himself a better and more loyal general

than Abner, and it is probable that had Abner been thrust into his

place, the future conquests of David would never have been made.

All that David could do was to disavow the murder of Abner, to protest

that though he had been anointed king he had not the power to punish the

perpetrators of it, and ostentatiously to abstain from food at the

public dinner of the court. Abner, moreover, received a sumptuous burial

in Hebron, at which the king was chief mourner. Joab must have

recognised the policy of the king’s action, since he seems to have

accepted it without a word of protest. He had gained his point; his

rival was removed from his path, and his position in the kingdom was

more unquestioned than ever.

The death of Abner reduced the adherents of Esh-Baal to despair. The

seeds of disaffection which he had sown also began to grow up. If Israel

was to be delivered from the Philistines, it was evident that the throne

of Esh-Baal must be occupied by another. Time was on the side of David,

and it was not long before the end came.

Esh-Baal was murdered by two of his own tribesmen. Baanah and Rechab,

the sons of Rimmon, penetrated into his bed-chamber one summer afternoon

while he was taking his _siesta_, and there murdered the sleeping king.

Then they beheaded the corpse, and, taking the head with them, hurried

to David at Hebron without once resting on the road.[462] But David was

too prudent to countenance the deed. While securing all the advantages

of it, he ordered summary punishment to be inflicted on its

perpetrators, and thus cleared himself and his house from the stain of

blood. Like the Amalekite who claimed to have killed Saul, the murderers

of Esh-Baal were put to death, and the divine law, which exacted blood

for blood, was satisfied. The Jewish king could enjoy with an easy

conscience the fruits of a murder of which he was innocent. No other

rival stood in his path, for Merib-Baal, the son of Jonathan, was a

hopeless cripple, with his spine injured by a fall in his childhood.

When he was still but five years of age the fatal battle of Gilboa had

taken place, and his nurse in the hurry of flight had dropped the child

from her arms.[463]

The death of Esh-Baal made David king of what was left of Northern

Israel. Those who had gathered round the son of Saul at Mahanaim now

flocked to Hebron, and there anointed the king of Judah king also of

Israel. They reminded him that they, too, were of his ‘bone and flesh,’

sprung from a common ancestor and acknowledging the same God, that he

had once been their leader against the Philistines, and that it had been

predicted of him that he should again be the captain of Israel.[464]

His coronation as king of Israel led to war with the Philistines. From

the vassal prince who reigned at Hebron, and whose title was not

acknowledged by the majority of his countrymen, there was nothing to

fear; it was different when he had become the king of a united Israel,

and could once more summon the forces around him with which he had

gained the victories of his earlier years. In accepting the crown of

Israel, moreover, without the permission of the Philistines, David had

been guilty of revolt. The Philistines claimed dominion over the whole

of Northern Israel west of the Jordan; if they had condoned his

annexation of the territory of Benjamin, it was because he was still

their tributary vassal, and the annexation meant war between him and the

rival kingdom of Israel. The heathen lords of Palestine were well

content that Judah and Israel should waste their strength in contending

with one another. But the union of the two kingdoms turned that strength

against themselves. The union had been effected without their consent;

it was ‘the men of Israel’ who had anointed David without consulting the

suzerain power.

At first the war went against the newly crowned king. He was taken by

surprise, and the Philistine army had invaded his territories before he

had time to gather his forces together. Beth-lehem, the seat of David’s

forefathers, was seized by the enemy, and made the base of their attack.

Thus cut off from help from the northern and eastern tribes, or even

from Benjamin, David was forced to retire from Hebron, and once more to

take refuge in the ‘hold’ of Adullam.[465] It was a country well known

to him; it had already saved him from the pursuit of Saul, and the

foreign foe did not dare to penetrate into its dark caves and narrow

gorges. Here for a time he carried on a guerilla warfare with the

Philistines until he felt himself strong enough to venture out into the

open field. It was while he was thus keeping the enemy at bay that three

of his followers performed a deed which placed them among the thirty

_gibbôrîm_, or ‘mighty men,’ in immediate attendance on the king.[466]

David had a sudden longing for the water of the well at the gate of

Beth-lehem, of which he had doubtless often drunk in his boyish days.

His wish was overheard by Joshebbasshebeth,[467] Eleazar, and Shammah,

who broke through the host of the Philistines, and succeeded in bringing

the water to their leader. David, however, refused to drink it. It was,

as it were, the price of blood; the three heroes had risked their lives

to bring it, and the king accordingly poured it out as a libation to the

Lord.

How long this guerilla warfare lasted we do not know. Only a meagre

abstract is given us of the wars and conquests of David, and it seems

probable that a detailed history of them has been intentionally omitted

by the compiler of the books of Samuel. A separate work dealing with the

history was doubtless in existence at the time he wrote, and there was

no room for another by the side of it. It was the lesser known portion

of David’s history which he aimed at compiling out of the records of the

past. The story, therefore, of the conquest of the Philistines and then

of the creation of an Israelitish empire has been lost to us; we know

the results, but little more.

When David at length ventured to descend from his mountain fortress, the

Philistines were encamped in the plain of Rephaim, or the ‘Giants,’

which stretched to the south-east of Jerusalem.[468] He was thus cut off

from the north, the road being further barred by the Jebusite stronghold

of Jerusalem, which appears to have peacefully submitted to the

Philistine domination. For a while the two hostile forces watched one

another, neither daring to attack the other. Heroes and champions on

either side performed individual deeds of valour like that which had

first won recognition for David on the part of Saul, but no general

engagement took place.[469] The Philistines were too numerous, the

Israelites too securely posted to be assailed.

At last, however, David judged that his opportunity had come. The oracle

of Yahveh was consulted; the answer was favourable; and the Israelites

descended suddenly on their enemies at a place called Baal-perazim. The

Philistines fled precipitately, leaving behind them the images of their

gods, which fell into the hands of the conquering army. The defeat at

Gilboa was in part avenged.

But the strength of the Philistines was by no means broken, and they

still held possession of the country north of Judah. Once more they

poured through the valley of Rephaim, and once more they were driven

back towards the coast. David had fallen upon them in the rear, the

sound of the approaching footsteps of the Israelites being drowned in

the rustling made by the wind in a grove of mulberry-trees. This time

the invaders were utterly shattered; they retreated from the territory

of Benjamin, and fled to Gezer, which was still in Canaanite hands. The

war was now carried into the country of the enemy. Gath, the most inland

of the Philistine cities, was the primary object of attack; but a long

and desultory war was needed before either it or its sister cities could

be forced to yield. Again opportunities occurred for the display of

individual deeds of prowess, and for winning the rewards of valour from

the Israelitish king. The three brothers of Goliath were slain by three

of the champions of Israel, Jonathan the nephew of David being the

victor in one combat, Abishai the brother of Joab in another. Abishai’s

victory was gained at Gob, where David narrowly escaped death at the

hands of the giant Ishbi-benob.[470] The narrowness of the escape

terrified his subjects, and they determined that he should not again

expose his life in the field. The memory of Saul’s death and its

disastrous results was too recent to be forgotten. Henceforward, except

on rare occasions, David governed his people from the city or the

palace; his armies were led by Joab, and the king became to them a name

rather than an inspiring presence. The personal affection he had once

excited was confined to his bodyguard, and when the evil days of

rebellion came upon him, it was the bodyguard alone which remained

faithful to their king.

Before the war with the Philistines was finished, an event occurred

which had a momentous influence on the future history of Judah. This was

the capture of Jerusalem. The Jebusite city had severed Judah from the

northern tribes, and the struggle with the Philistines had shown what

advantage that gave to an enemy. A united Israel was impossible so long

as the Israelitish territory was thus cut in two by a belt of hostile

country. While Jerusalem remained in the hands of the foreigner, Israel

could never be secure from Philistine attacks, or its king be able to

hurl against the enemy the full force of his dominions. If the

Philistine war was to be brought to a decisive and satisfactory end, if

the king of Judah was also to be king of Israel, it was needful that

Jerusalem should be his. We have learned from the tablets of Tel

el-Amarna how important Jerusalem already was in the days when the

Israelites had not as yet quitted Egypt, and when Canaan formed part of

the Egyptian empire. Its position made it one of the strongest of

Canaanitish fortresses. It was the capital of a larger territory than

usually belonged to the cities of Canaan, and it was already venerable

for its antiquity. Its ruler was also a priest, ‘without father and

without mother,’ and appointed to his office by ‘the Mighty King,’ ‘the

Most High God’ of the book of Genesis. Its name testified to the worship

of a god of peace: Urusalim, as it is written in the cuneiform

characters, signified ‘the City of Salim,’ the god of peace.

The city stood on a hill to which in after days was given the name of

Moriah. A low depression, first recognised in our own days by Dr. Guthe,

separated it from another hill, which sloped southward till it ended in

a point. On one side was the deep limestone valley through which the

torrent of the Kidron had forced its way; on the other side, to the

west, was another valley known in later times as that of the sons of

Hinnom. On the southern hill was a fort which protected the approach to

the upper town to the north.[471]

Its Jebusite defenders believed it to be impregnable. Even the lame and

the blind, they said, could repel the assault of an enemy. But they were

soon undeceived. The Israelites climbed up the cliff through a drain or

aqueduct that had been cut in the rock, and the Jebusite fortress was

taken. It may be that its capture was due to treachery, and that the way

had been shown to the besiegers by one of the garrison; at all events

the inhabitants of the city were spared, and henceforward shared it with

settlers from Judah and Benjamin. The latter would seem to have been

chiefly planted in the new city which David built on the southern hill

of Zion where the Jebusite fortress had stood. In contradistinction to

Jerusalem it came to be known as the City of David; a strong wall of

fortification was built around it, a Millo or citadel was erected on the

site of the Jebusite fort, and the king’s palace was founded in its

midst. The palace seems to have stood on the western side of the hill,

with a flight of steps cut in the rock leading down from it to the

valley below, traces of which have apparently been discovered by Dr.

Bliss in his recent excavations.[472]

It was built by Phœnician artificers from Tyre. War and foreign

oppression had destroyed most of the culture the Israelites had once

possessed, and they no longer had among them skilled artisans like

Bezaleel, who could undertake the construction or adornment of buildings

which might vie with the palaces of the Philistine or Canaanite cities.

Carpenters and stone-masons had to be fetched from Tyre like the beams

of cedar that were cut on the slopes of the Lebanon. Jaffa, the port of

Jerusalem, must already have fallen by war or treaty into David’s hand.

We are told that the cedar and the workmen were sent by Hiram, the

Tyrian king. But if the Israelitish palace had been built in the early

part of David’s reign, this can hardly have been the case. Josephus,

quoting from the Phœnician historian Menander, tells us that Hiram I.,

the son of Abibal, reigned thirty-four years (B.C. 969-936),[473] and

since he was still alive in the twentieth year of Solomon’s reign (1

Kings ix. 10), it would have been Abibal rather than Hiram who first

entered into commercial alliance with David.[474] Abibal seems, like

David, to have been the founder of a dynasty, and his son and successor

was the Solomon of Tyre. He constructed the two harbours of the city,

restored the temples, and built for himself a sumptuous palace, while

his ships traded to the Straits of Gibraltar in the west and to the

Persian Gulf in the east.

Jerusalem became the capital of the Israelitish king, and the choice was

a sign of his usual sagacity. It was an ideal centre for a kingdom such

as his. It lay midway between Judah and the northern tribes, and thus,

as it were, bound them together. At the same time it belonged to

neither; its associations were Canaanite, not Hebrew, and its choice as

a royal residence could excite no jealousies. Moreover, this absence of

past associations with the history of Israel enabled David to do with it

as he liked; it contained nothing the destruction or alteration of which

would offend the prejudices of his countrymen. Situated as it was on the

borders of both Judah and Benjamin, it served to unite the houses of

Saul and Jesse, and the mixed population which soon filled it—partly

Jebusite, partly Jewish, and partly Benjaminite—was a symbol and visible

token of that unification of races and interests in Palestine which it

was the work of David’s reign to effect. In addition to all this,

Jerusalem was a natural fortress, difficult to capture, easy to defend;

it had behind it the traditions of a venerable past, and had once been

the seat of a priest-king.

The spoils of foreign conquest allowed David to fortify and embellish

it. Israel as yet had no trade of its own. The struggle with the

Philistines had effectually prevented it from engaging in the commerce

which had made the name of ‘Canaanite’ synonymous with that of

‘merchant.’ The Philistines had held possession of the highroads that

ran through Palestine as well as of the southern line of coast; the

coasts and harbours to the north were occupied by the Phœnicians. The

capture of Joppa from the Zakkal first opened to Israel and Judah a way

to the sea.

The fortifications of Jerusalem were completed and the royal palace

built. But the God of Israel to whom David owed his power and his

victories had no habitation there. Jerusalem had become the capital of

the Israelitish monarchy, yet it was still under the protection of a

Canaanitish god. The time had come when Yahveh should take his place and

assume the protection of David’s capital and David’s throne.

In Egypt, in Babylonia, in the cities of Canaan itself, the palace of

the king and the temple of the deity stood side by side. It was on the

temple rather than on the palace that the wealth of the nation was

lavished: while the palace might be built of brick and stucco, the

temple was constructed of hewn stone. David naturally desired that

Yahveh also should have a fitting habitation in the city He had given to

His worshippers. But the prophet Nathan, who had at first shared in the

plans of David, was commissioned to arrest the design. David had been a

man of war who had ‘shed much blood upon the earth’;[475] until the wars

were finished ‘which were about him on every side’[476] Yahveh would not

permit him to build Him a house. All he might do was to prepare the

material for his happier and more peaceful son. Jerusalem was ‘the city

of the god of peace,’ and it was as a god of peace and not of war that

Yahveh would consent to dwell within it.

Nevertheless, though the building of a temple was forbidden, the new

capital of the kingdom was not deprived of the presence of Yahveh. The

ark of the covenant was brought from the Gibeah or ‘Hill’ of

Kirjath-jearim,[477] where it had lain so long. Placed in ‘a new cart,’

it was led along by oxen, while David and the Israelites accompanied it

with music and singing. On the road, the oxen stumbled and shook the

sacred palladium of Israel; Uzzah, one of the two drivers, put forth his

hand to steady it, and immediately afterwards fell back dead. His death

was regarded as the punishment of one who, though not a Levite, had

ventured to touch the shrine of Yahveh, and David in terror and dismay

broke up the festal procession, and left the ark in the nearest house,

which happened to belong to a Philistine of Gath named Obed-Edom.[478]

Here it remained three months. Then, David finding that the household of

the Philistine had been blessed and not cursed by its presence, caused

it to be again removed and taken to Jerusalem. Sacrifices were offered

as it passed along, music once more accompanied it, and David, as

anointed king, clad in the priestly ephod, danced sacred dances before

it. But his wife, Michal, who had seen him from a window thus acting

like one of the inferior priests, ‘despised him in her heart,’ and on

his return to the palace upbraided him with his unseemly conduct. David

answered taunt with taunt; the king could not degrade himself by any

service, however mean, that he might perform in honour of his God, but

Michal herself should be degraded by living the rest of her life a

childless wife. Meanwhile the assembled multitude was feasted with

bread, meat, and wine, and the ark was reverently placed in ‘the tent’

set up for the purpose in the midst of Jerusalem. Was this the famous

‘tabernacle of the congregation’ which had accompanied the Israelites in

their wanderings in the desert, and had afterwards formed part of the

temple-buildings at Shiloh? The fact that it is called ‘the tent’ would

seem to imply that such was the case. On the other hand, the Chronicler

evidently thought otherwise,[479] and we are not told that ‘the tent’

had been brought from elsewhere.

It would seem that the war with the Philistines was over when the ark

was brought to Jerusalem. During its continuance it is not probable that

a native of Gath would be living peaceably in Israelitish territory, or

giving hospitality to the sacred safeguard of Israel. The Philistines

must have already been incorporated into David’s kingdom, like the

Jebusites of Jerusalem or the Kenites of the south, and his bodyguard

have been recruited from among them. Unfortunately we do not know how

long the war had lasted. A time came, however, when they acknowledged

themselves the servants of the Israelitish king, and became the vassals

of Judah. They never again were formidable to their neighbours, nor did

they ever seriously dispute the suzerainty of Judah. It is true that

they might now and then take advantage of a foreign invasion, like that

of the Assyrians, to shake off the yoke of their suzerain, but their

independence never lasted long, and the five cities did not always take

the same side. Even when the very existence of Jerusalem was threatened

by Sennacherib, we find Ekron faithfully supporting Hezekiah against the

Assyrian conqueror. David broke the spirit as well as the power of the

Philistines, and took for ever the supremacy they had wielded out of

their hands.[480]

The ‘lords’ or kings of the five Philistine cities were left

undisturbed. But their position towards David was reversed. Instead of

his being their vassal, they became vassals to him, paying him tribute,

and providing him with military service when it was required. David was

well acquainted with the excellence of the Philistines as soldiers in

war. Accordingly he followed the example of the Egyptian Pharaohs who

had transformed their Libyan and Sardinian enemies into mercenary

troops, and of the king of Gath in his own case. He surrounded himself

with a bodyguard of Philistines and Kretans, to whom were afterwards

added Karian adventurers from the south-western coast of Asia Minor.

Already in the age of the Tel el-Amarna tablets Lycians from the same

part of the world had served as mercenaries in Syria, and in the time of

Ramses II. the Hittite army contained troops from Lycia, from Ionia, and

from the Troad. Not only could the foreigners be used against David’s

own countrymen in case of disaffection or rebellion; their employment

about the king’s person in an office of trust made them feel that they

were as much his subjects as the Israelites themselves, and forget also

that they had been conquered. It was a means of cementing together the

monarchy which the Israelitish king had created.

The war with the Philistines was followed by one with Moab. Here, too,

David was successful. The Moabites were vanquished, and the captives

massacred in accordance with the cruel fashion of the day. Forced to lie

along the ground, two-thirds of the row were measured off with a line

and pitilessly put to death. The result was the almost complete

destruction of the fighting force of the country; and a century had to

pass before Moab recovered its strength, and once more regained its

independence. It was during the war with Moab that Benaiah, the son of

Jehoiada, who was sprung from the mixed Jewish and Edomite population of

Kabzeel, first came into notice, and was rewarded with a place among the

thirty ‘heroes.’ He slew, we are told, two _ariels_ of Moab.[481] The

word seems to have specially belonged to the language of the Moabites.

Mesha, on the Moabite Stone, states that after the conquest of Ataroth

and Nebo, he took from them the _arels_ (or _ariels_) of Dodah and

Yahveh, and tore them in pieces before Chemosh,[482] and in the Egyptian

_Travels of the Mohar_ the same word is found, having been borrowed from

the Canaanites in the sense of a ‘hero.’[483] The _ariels_ slain by

Benaiah must therefore have been Moabite champions like the Philistine

Goliath of Gath.

Their overthrow was not the only achievement of Benaiah which qualified

him for a place among the _gibbôrîm_. He had found a lion at the bottom

of a cistern in the winter-time when the ground was covered with snow,

and had boldly descended into the pit and killed it. He had, moreover,

slain an Egyptian in single combat, though armed only with a staff,

while his opponent wielded a spear. These and similar deeds raised him

to the rank of captain of the foreign mercenaries, an office which he

retained throughout the reign of David. Between him and Joab, the

commander of the native army, feelings of rivalry and ill-will grew up,

as perhaps was natural. The native troops naturally looked askance at

the mercenaries, who formed, as it were, a check upon themselves, and

were favoured by the king with a confidence which they did not

themselves enjoy. The feelings of the troops they commanded were

reflected back upon the two generals, whose jealousies and counter

intrigues ended, finally, in the destruction of one of them. Benaiah

survived, while Joab perished at the foot of the altar.

Moab was conquered; it was now the turn of Ammon. The Ammonites had

looked on while their neighbours on the eastern side of the Jordan were

being annexed to the kingdom of Israel. Nahash, however, the Ammonite

king, had long been the ally of David. A common hostility to Esh-Baal

had brought them together, and the league against the son of Saul had

included Ammon, Judah, and the Aramæans. It was this alliance which had

largely contributed to the success of David in his war against the

northern tribes; left to himself it is doubtful whether the Jewish

prince would have succeeded in overcoming his rival.

While Nahash lived, the old friendship continued between him and the

king of Israel. But with his death came a change. The ambassadors sent

by David to congratulate his son Khanun on his accession were grossly

insulted, and driven back across the Jordan with their beards half-shorn

and their robes cut off in the middle. Khanun, it was clear, was bent

upon provoking war. He had the Aramæans at his back to support him; the

fate of Moab had alarmed him, and he determined, while he still

possessed allies, to anticipate the war which he foresaw.

The challenge was promptly taken up. Joab and his brother Abishai

marched across the Jordan at the head of a large army of veterans. A

battle took place before ‘the City of Waters,’ Rabbath-Ammon, ‘the

capital of Ammon.’ The Aramæan forces had already come to the help of

their confederates. Hadad-ezer of Zobah had furnished 20,000 men; 12,000

had come from the land of Tob, and 1000 from Maacah.[484] Joab found

himself enclosed between the Aramæans on one side and the Ammonites on

the other. But the Israelitish general was equal to the danger. Leaving

Abishai to resist the Ammonite attack, he put himself at the head of a

picked body of troops and fell upon the Syrians, whom he succeeded in

utterly routing. The Ammonites, seeing the flight of their allies,

retreated behind the walls of their city, and Joab remained master of

the field.

But the battle had been sharply contested, and the Hebrew army had

suffered too severely to be able to pursue its advantage. Joab retired

to Jerusalem, there to recruit his army and prepare for another

campaign. Meantime, the enemy also had not been idle. Hadad-ezer

summoned the vassal princes of Syria from either side of the Euphrates,

and placed the army under the command of a general named Shobach. The

struggle had passed from a mere war with Ammon to a contest for the

supremacy in Western Asia. The time had come for David himself once more

to take the field; the issue at stake was too important to be decided by

an inferior commander, however able and experienced.

The two great powers on the Euphrates and the Nile, which had controlled

the destinies of the Oriental world in earlier days, were now in a state

of decadence. Egypt was the shadow of its former self. Its empire in

Asia had long since fallen, and it was now divided into two hostile and

equally impotent kingdoms. The Tanite Pharaohs reigned in the north, and

though their supremacy was theoretically acknowledged as far as the

First Cataract, Upper Egypt was really governed by the high priests of

Ammon at Thebes, who had blocked the navigation of the Nile by a strong

fortress at El-Hîba, near Feshn, which successfully prevented the rulers

of the Delta from advancing to the south.[485] Babylonia was similarly

powerless. A younger rival had grown up in Assyria, and about B.C. 1290

the Assyrian king Tiglath-Ninip had even captured Babylon and held

possession of it for seven years. Like Egypt, Babylonia had renounced

its claim to rule in Western Asia, not to renew it till the age of

Nebuchadrezzar.

The kingdom of Mitanni or Aram-Naharaim, moreover, had passed away; when

Tiglath-pileser I. of Assyria swept over Western Asia, in B.C. 1100, it

had already become a thing of the past. Perhaps its overthrow was due to

the irruption of the Hittites from the mountains of Cappadocia, but if

so it was soon avenged, for the Hittites too had ceased to be

formidable. Their empire had dissolved into a number of small states:

one of these was Carchemish, which commanded the chief ford across the

Euphrates; another was Kadesh, on the Orontes, which had once more sunk

into obscurity.

In place of Mitanni and the Hittites the Semitic Aramæans of Syria had

risen into prominence. They had been the older inhabitants of the

country, and the decay of the intrusive powers of Mitanni and the

Hittites had enabled them to shake off the foreign yoke, and establish

kingdoms of their own. Among these, Zobah, called Zubitê in the Assyrian

inscriptions, acquired the leading place.

In the closing days of the Assyrian empire, the capital of Zobah lay to

the north-east of Moab—perhaps, as Professor Friedrich Delitzsch thinks,

in the neighbourhood of the modern Homs.[486] It was essentially an Arab

state, but had been founded by those Ishmaelite Arabs of Northern

Arabia, who, like the Nabatheans, had by intercourse with a Canaanite

population developed a dialect which we term Aramaic. Saul, as we have

seen, had been already brought into hostile collision with them. At that

time the tribes of Zobah were still disunited, and it was with the

‘kings’ or chieftains of Zobah that the war of the Israelitish ruler had

been carried on. As in Israel, however, so in Zobah, the necessity of

defending themselves against the enemy had led to union, and when David

reigned at Jerusalem they were under the sway of a single sovereign,

Hadad-ezer, ‘the son of Rehob.’ Rehob had given his name to a district a

little to the north of Palestine, of which Hadad-ezer must have been the

hereditary prince.[487]

Hadad-ezer had attempted to establish his empire on the ruins of that of

the Hittites. He had not only unified Zobah, but had reduced the

neighbouring Aramæan princes to subjection. All northern Syria was

tributary to him except the kingdom of Hamath, and Hamath also was

threatened by the rising power. He had erected a stela commemorating his

victories on the banks of the Euphrates, in imitation of the ancient

Pharaohs of Egypt, and his alliance was courted by the Aramæans on the

eastern side of the river.

His career of conquest was suddenly arrested. The Ammonites, threatened

by David, sought his assistance, and in return for his help offered to

acknowledge his suzerainty. The offer was accepted, and the Syrian king

found himself face to face with the upstart power of Israel. The war

which followed must have been a long one, but it ended in the complete

victory of David. In the brief annalistic summary of David’s reign given

in 2 Sam. viii., we hear only of one or two of the later incidents in

the campaign. David, it is said, smote Hadad-ezer ‘as he was marching to

restore his stela on the banks of the river’ Euphrates (_v._ 3). This

implies that the memorial of former conquests had been destroyed either

by the Israelitish king or by the revolted subjects of Hadad-ezer

himself.

The account of the war against Ammon (2 Sam. x.) shows that the

Israelitish victory must have been subsequent to the overthrow of the

Ammonites. The defeat of Hadad-ezer was complete. The Israelites

captured 1000 chariots, 7000 horsemen,[488] and 20,000 foot-soldiers,

besides a large number of horses. The Syrian power, however, was not yet

broken. Damascus rose in defence of its suzerain, and David found

himself once more confronted by a formidable enemy. But fortune again

smiled on the veterans of Israel, and 22,000 Syrians from Damascus were

left dead on the field. Israelitish garrisons were placed in Damascus

and the neighbouring cities, and the rule of David was acknowledged as

far as the frontiers of Hamath.[489] Nevertheless, Hadad-ezer was still

unsubdued. His communications with Mesopotamia were still open across

the desert, and it would seem that the last scene in the war was enacted

as far north as Aleppo.

A final effort to save Hadad-ezer was made by the Aramæan states on the

eastern side of the Euphrates, who were either his vassals or his

allies. Troops poured across the river, under the command of Shobach,

called Shophach by the Chronicler. Once more David made a levy of the

Israelitish forces and led them in person against the foe. He crossed

the Jordan to the south of Mount Hermon, traversed the territories of

Damascus and Homs, and after leaving Hamath on the left found himself at

Helam, where the Aramæan host had pitched their camp. Josephus in his

account of the campaign transforms Helam, which he reads Khalaman, into

the name of the Aramæan king beyond the Euphrates; we may accept his

reading without following him in changing a place into a man. Khalaman

would correspond exactly with Khalman, the Assyrian name of Aleppo,

which lay on the high road from the fords of the Euphrates to the west.

It seems probable, therefore, that in Helam or Khalaman, we must see

Aleppo.

According to Josephus, who appears to have derived his account from some

Midrash or Commentary on the books of Samuel, the army of Shobach

consisted of 80,000 infantry and 1000 horse. At all events, in the

battle which followed, and which resulted in the complete victory of the

Israelites, 7000 of the Syrian cavalry and 40,000 of their foot-soldiers

are said to have been slain.[490] The power of Zobah was utterly

destroyed. All Syria on the western side of the Euphrates hastened to

make peace with the conqueror, and to offer him homage or alliance. The

states on the eastern bank were separated from their Aramæan kinsfolk to

the west, and as long as David lived took good care not again to cross

the river. The old dream of the Israelitish patriot was fulfilled, and

the dominion of Israel extended northwards to the borders of Hamath.

Even the desert tribes to the east of Hamath, who had owned obedience to

Hadad-ezer, passed under the sway of David, and for a time at all events

the Jewish king could boast that his rule was acknowledged as far as the

Euphrates.[491]

The immediate result of the victory was a sudden influx of wealth into

the Jewish capital. Not only were the golden shields carried by the

bodyguard of Hadad-ezer brought to Jerusalem, to be borne on state

occasions by the foreign guards of the conqueror, but immense stores of

bronze were found in two of the cities of northern Syria, Tibhath and

Berothai.[492] It was out of this bronze that the fittings of the temple

were afterwards made by Solomon.[493]

Another result of the war was an embassy from Toi or Tou of Hamath. The

powerful Hebrew prince who had so unexpectedly appeared on the horizon

of northern Syria was a neighbour whose goodwill it was necessary to

purchase at all costs. The embassy sent by Toi to David was accordingly

headed by the Hamathite king’s own son. This was Hadoram, whose name was

changed into the corresponding Hebrew Joram. The change of name was a

delicate way of acknowledging the supremacy of the God of Israel and the

sovereign who worshipped Him, and of declaring that henceforth Hadad of

Syria was to become Yahveh of Israel. As the Assyrian kings professed to

make war in order that they might spread the name and worship of Assur,

so it might be presumed that the campaigns of David were carried on in

order to glorify Yahveh, who had given him the victory.[494]

The ambassadors brought with them various costly gifts, which

Israelitish vanity might, if it chose, interpret as tribute, and which

would certainly have been so interpreted by an Egyptian or Assyrian

scribe. Vessels of gold, silver, and bronze were laid at the feet of

David, and a treaty of alliance formed between him and the ruler of

Hamath. That Hadad-ezer had been the common enemy of both was a

sufficient pretext both for the embassy and for the alliance. The memory

of the alliance lasted down to a late date. Even when Azariah reigned

over Judah in the time of the Assyrian king Tiglath-pileser III., Hamath

could still look to Jerusalem for help; and in the age of Sargon,

Yahu-bihdi, whose name contains that of the national God of Israel, led

the people of Hamath to revolt.

All this while the siege of ‘the City of Waters,’ the Rabbah or

‘Capital’ of Ammon, still dragged on. Joab was encamped before it, while

David was leading a life of ease and luxury in his palace at Jerusalem.

This neglect of his kingly duties finds little favour in the eyes of the

Hebrew historian. At the season of the year when David sent Joab and

‘his servants’ to do his work, other ‘kings’ were accustomed to ‘go

forth to battle,’ and special emphasis is laid upon the words of Uriah:

‘The ark and Israel and Judah abide in tents; and my lord Joab and the

servants of my lord are encamped in the open fields; shall I then go

into mine house, to eat and to drink, and to lie with my wife?’ With a

king who had thus delegated his proper work to others, and had already

forgotten that the very reason for his existence was that he should lead

the people of Yahveh against their enemies, a catastrophe could not be

far distant. First came the act of adultery with Bath-sheba, the wife of

Uriah the Hittite, next the treacherous murder of a faithful guardsman

and brave officer. Uriah was made to carry to Joab the letter which

contained his own death-warrant, as well as that of other servants of

David, equally innocent and equally valorous. A special messenger

brought the king the news of his death, and Bath-sheba was at once added

to the royal harîm. One man only could be found with courage enough to

protest against the deed; this was Nathan the prophet, a successor of

the Samuel who had placed the crown on David’s head. The king professed

his penitence, though he did not offer to put away Bath-sheba, and the

death of the child he had had by her was accepted in expiation of his

guilt. It was an example of that vicarious punishment, that substitution

of ‘the fruit of the body for the sin of the soul,’ a belief in which

was as strong among the Canaanites as it was in Babylonia. The second

son borne by Bath-sheba received the double name of Jedidiah from

Nathan, and Shelomoh or Solomon from his father. Shelomoh, ‘the

peaceful,’ was, in fact, the Hebrew equivalent of Salamanu or Solomon,

the name of a king of Moab in the days of Tiglath-pileser III.[495]

David’s submission gave him a claim upon Nathan which the prophet never

forgot. The death of the first-born of Bath-sheba, moreover, seemed to

indicate that Yahveh had accepted the sacrifice of the child that had

been, as it were, offered for the sin of the father, and that the guilt

of the Israelitish monarch had been atoned. Henceforward Nathan took a

peculiar interest in the new queen and her offspring. One of the four

sons of Bath-sheba was named after him (1 Chron. iii. 5), and it was to

him that Solomon owed in part his succession to the throne. It may be

that Solomon’s training was intrusted to the prophet; such at any rate

may be the significance of the words in 2 Sam. xii. 25.

It was after the birth of Solomon that Rabbah was at length starved into

a surrender. Joab, ever jealous of his master’s fame, sent to tell David

of the fact, and to bid him come at once and occupy the city lest the

glory of its capture should be credited to the general who had besieged

it rather than to the king who had remained at home. David accordingly

proceeded to the camp, and entered the Ammonite capital at the head of

his troops. The crown of gold, inlaid with gems, which had adorned the

image of Malcham, the Ammonite god, was placed over the head of his

human conqueror; the city itself was sacked, and its population treated

with merciless rigour. In the euphemistic language of the historian they

were put ‘under saws and under harrows of iron, and under axes of iron,

and made to pass through the brickkiln.’[496]

The war with Ammon was followed by one with Edom. The Amalekites or

Bedâwin had already been taught that a strong power had arisen in

Palestine, thoroughly able to protect its inhabitants from the raids of

the desert robbers (2 Sam. viii. 12); the turn of the Edomites was to

come next. David himself seems to have led the Israelitish army,[497]

and in a decisive battle in a wadi south of the Dead Sea, utterly

crushed the forces of Edom.[498] Eighteen thousand of the enemy were

slain, and all further resistance on the part of disciplined troops was

at an end. For six months longer the inhabitants of Mount Seir carried

on a guerilla warfare with Joab; they were, however, mercilessly hunted

out and massacred, hardly a male being left alive (1 Kings xi. 15). The

child Hadad, the son, it may be, of the last Edomite king Hadar, was

carried by ‘his father’s servants’ to Egypt, where they found shelter in

the court of the Pharaohs, and David took possession of the depopulated

country. Its possession opened up for Israel a new era of wealth and

commercial prosperity. The high road along which the spices of southern

Arabia were carried ran through it, and at its southern extremity were

the two ports of Elath and Ezion-geber on the Sea of Suph, which

connected Western Asia with the Red Sea and the Indian Ocean. David now

commanded the caravan-trade from the north of Syria to the Gulf of

Aqaba; on the one side he was in contact with Mesopotamia and Asia

Minor, on the other with Egypt and Arabia. Apart from the trade which

passed through Palestine, leaving riches on its way, the tolls levied on

merchandise must have brought a goodly income to the royal exchequer.

David, indeed, had too much in him of the peasant and the warrior to

realise the full extent of his good fortune; it needed a Solomon to

perceive all the advantages of his position, to fit out merchant vessels

in the Gulf of Aqaba, and to secure a monopoly of the carrying trade.

For the present, David was occupied in fortifying the conquests he had

made. Aramæans from Ammon and Zobah were drafted into his

bodyguard,[499] and Edom was so effectively garrisoned as to make revolt

impossible for more than a century. A firm hold was kept upon the

kinglets of the small Aramæan states to the north who had formerly owned

Hadad-ezer as their suzerain; the king of Geshur was already connected

by marriage with the royal house of Israel. A new and formidable power

had grown up at the entrance to Egypt, effectually cutting off the

monarchy of the Nile from Western Asia, and the commander-in-chief of

the Israelitish army had proved himself the ablest and most irresistible

general of his time.

David appeared to be securely fixed not only on the throne of Israel,

but also on that of an Israelitish empire. But his power after all was

wanting in stability. It depended in great measure upon Joab; Joab alone

commanded the confidence of the veteran soldiery, and was dreaded by the

foreign foe.[500] Moreover, there was as yet but little real adhesion

between the Israelitish tribes. Ephraim could not forget its old

position of pre-eminence, or cease to resent the domination of the

new-born and half-foreign tribe of Judah. The blood-tax demanded by the

wars of David added to the discontent. The wars were wars of aggression

rather than of defence, and were to the advantage of a Jewish dynasty,

not of the people as a whole. Military service became as unpopular in

Israel as it has been of recent years in Egypt: when David proposed to

number his subjects and thereby ascertain what fighting force he

possessed, Joab vainly endeavoured to dissuade him from his intention,

and the people subsequently saw in the plague that followed the

punishment of a royal crime. The bodyguard of Philistines and Kretans,

with its officers of various nationalities and creeds, protected the

person of the king and prevented any open signs of disaffection; but

discontent smouldered beneath the surface, ready to break into flame

whenever a favourable opportunity occurred. The Israelites had too

recently submitted themselves to the rule of a single sovereign to be as

yet amenable to discipline, or to have lost the democratic instincts of

the armed peasant and his guerilla methods of carrying on war.

There was yet another, and a still more potent cause for the instability

of David’s throne. This was to be found in the royal family itself.

Polygamy has been the fatal cancer which has eaten away the strength and

prosperity of the most powerful dynasties of the Oriental world; and the

history of the Israelitish empire proved no exception to the rule. David

had none of the stern and ascetic fanaticism which distinguished Saul;

he enjoyed life to the fullest, and when success came, policy alone set

bounds to his enjoyment of it. Self-indulgent as most other Oriental

despots, he multiplied to himself wives and children, not shrinking even

from the murder of the trustiest of his followers in his determination

to add yet another beauty to his well-stocked harîm. Polygamy brought

with it its usual curse. In the dull and idle seclusion of the palace,

the wives of the king quarrelled one with another for his favour and

love, and the quarrel of the mother was adopted by her children.

Maachah, the daughter of the king of Geshur, claimed precedence for

herself and her son Absalom in virtue of their royal blood; Amnon, as

the first-born of his father, regarded himself as rightful heir to the

throne, and as therefore placed above the ordinary laws of men; while

Bath-sheba, whose unscrupulous ambition had betrayed a husband to

destruction, never ceased intriguing in the interests of Solomon whom

she had destined from the outset for the crown.

The latter years of David’s life were clouded with the crimes and

rebellions of his family. Amnon outraged his half-sister Tamar, and was

murdered by her brother Absalom, and Absalom, his father’s favourite,

fled to Talmai, king of Geshur. Thanks to Joab, the blood-feud was

eventually appeased, and after an exile of three years Absalom was

allowed to return to Jerusalem. Two years later, David consented to

forget the past. Absalom was again received at court, and his beauty and

grace of manner resumed their former sway over the hearts of both king

and people.

But David was growing old; discontent was gathering even among his own

tribesmen, and Absalom was impatient to seize the crown which he

conceived to be his by right. He obtained leave to go to Hebron, there

to offer sacrifice in the ancient sanctuary and capital of Judah. The

place was well chosen: the religious traditions of a venerable past were

associated with the city, and its inhabitants could have looked with

little favour on the rise of Jerusalem. They gave ready ear to the

prince who promised to restore Hebron to its ancient importance, and

make it once more a capital. The cry of Hebron and Judah as against

Jerusalem and a dynastic empire was eagerly responded to.

David was taken by surprise. Even Joab does not seem to have been aware

of the conspiracy which was being formed. There were no troops in

Jerusalem sufficient to defend it against attack, even if its defenders

could be trusted, and of this David was no longer sure. He seemed

deserted by all the world, and his only safety lay in flight. Even his

counsellor Ahitophel had gone over to the rebel son.

The royal household and harîm fled eastwards across the Jordan to those

outlying districts of Israelitish territory in which Esh-Baal had so

long maintained himself. David was accompanied by his bodyguard: the

priests who wished to accompany him with the ark were sent back. So,

too, was Hushai, the fellow-councillor of Ahitophel, in the hope that he

might counteract the schemes of Absalom’s adviser.

The revolt showed David that he had been living in merely fancied

security. His tribesmen had fallen away from him at the first summons of

his more popular son; his old comrades, indeed, still stood by him, and

he could count on the swords and fidelity of his foreign bodyguard. But

what were they against a revolted nation? Even in the days of outlawry,

when he was hunted from cave to cave by Saul, he could reckon on popular

sympathy and help; now the popular sympathy was transferred to another,

and the flood-gates of disaffection and hatred were opened upon him. In

spite of his guards, Shimei of the house of Saul ventured to stone him

as he passed along, and to call him the man of blood who had

unrighteously seized the crown. It was a sign that the fall of Saul’s

dynasty had not been forgotten, and that there were still those in

Benjamin who submitted with reluctance to the rule of his supplanter.

David was saved by the loyalty of Joab. Had that invincible general gone

over to the enemy a new king would have sat on the throne of Israel. The

commander-in-chief would have taken his veterans with him and led them,

as ever, to victory. Fortunately for David, his old friend refused to

forsake the fortunes of the fallen king. Perhaps family jealousies may

have had some influence on his resolution. Absalom conferred the office

of commander-in-chief on Amasa, the son of Joab’s cousin, who had

married a man of Israel.[501] The appointment may indeed have been made

because Joab had already thrown in his lot with that of the king; more

probably it had been promised to Amasa before the beginning of the

revolt.

But the priests and prophets remained faithful to the king of their

choice. Zadok and Abiathar, the chief priests, had returned to Jerusalem

with the sacred symbol of Yahveh’s presence in Israel, but their sons

Ahimaaz and Johanan undertook to keep David informed of the plans of his

enemies in the capital. Fortunately for him, the advice of Ahitophel was

only partially acted upon. Absalom possessed himself of his father’s

concubines, and thereby, in accordance with Hebrew ideas, published to

the world his usurpation of the throne, but the further advice of the

wily counsellor was disregarded. Instead of despatching a body of twelve

thousand men, who should fall upon the fugitives before they could reach

the fords of the Jordan, Absalom and his youthful friends preferred the

counsel of Hushai, and determined first to raise a levy of all Israel.

The idea of marching in person at the head of a great army appealed to

the vanity of the young usurper; and to the inexperience of youth the

possibility of David and his guards hiding in ambush, and thence

descending upon their unwary pursuers, seemed a very real danger.

Ahitophel, the single representative of age and experience among the

conspirators, knew only too well what the rejection of his advice must

mean. The rebellion was self-condemned; it was doomed to failure, and

the return of David would be the destruction of himself. Even at the

council-board of Absalom his rival Hushai had been preferred to himself;

all that was left him was to crawl back to his home in bitter

disappointment, and there hang himself. The conspiracy had lost the

brain which alone could have conducted it to success.

The news of Ahitophel’s advice was brought to David by the young

priests. They had escaped with difficulty from their hiding-place at the

Fuller’s Spring below the southern extremity of the wall of Jerusalem,

and subsequently owed their preservation to a woman’s wit. The priests

were known to be hostile to the new movement; they had therefore been

watched and closely pursued. They reached David while he was still on

the western side of the Jordan, and no time was lost in putting the

river between himself and his enemies. The fugitives, however, did not

consider themselves safe until they found themselves at Mahanaim, where

they were in the midst of a friendly population. Ammonites as well as

Gileadites hastened to do honour to David, and to furnish him with

everything that he and his companions required.[502]

He was soon joined by Joab and his brother Abishai, with the veteran

troops under their command. A third division of the army was placed

under Ittai of Gath, a captain in the royal bodyguard, and the approach

of the rebel army was awaited without anxiety. Amasa made the fatal

mistake of attacking the royal troops in their own territory, on ground

they had chosen for themselves. Not only was it on the further side of

the Jordan, it was also among the trees and dense undergrowth of the

forest of Ephraim.[503] The issue could not be doubtful. David, indeed,

had not been allowed by his followers to enter the field himself. He was

now too old for active service, and his death would involve all the

horrors of a disputed succession and civil war. That Absalom, however,

would be defeated seems to have been taken for granted, and David

accordingly impressed upon his generals that they should spare his son’s

life.

But Joab judged more wisely than the king. He knew that as long as

Absalom lived there would be constant trouble and insecurity, and that

for those who had fought against him on his father’s side there would be

but short shrift. As Absalom, therefore, hung suspended by his hair from

the branches of a tree which had caught him in his flight, he pierced

him with three darts, while his ten armour-bearers despoiled the corpse.

Twenty thousand of the enemy were said to have been slain, partly by the

sword, partly from the nature of the place in which the battle was

fought, and the slaughter would have been greater had not Joab recalled

his men from their pursuit of the foe as soon as Absalom was dead. With

the fall of the usurper all further danger was at an end.

Ahimaaz, the Levite, famous for his fleetness of foot, ran with news of

the victory to the king. But Joab knew how fondly David had doted on his

handsome and selfish son; he knew also that he was weakened in both mind

and body, and that the day was past when his emotions could be kept

under control. Joab, therefore, refused to let Ahimaaz carry the tidings

of his son’s death to the king, and an ‘Ethiopian’ slave was sent with

the news instead. In the end, however, Ahimaaz outran the Ethiopian, and

announced at Mahanaim the victory that had been won. Then came the

foreigner with the message that Absalom was dead.

The conduct of David which followed on the message was indefensible. He

forgot that he was a king, that he had duties towards his people and

those who had risked their lives on his behalf, that the prince who had

fallen in open fight had been the murderer of his brother, a rebel

against his father, and a would-be parricide. All was forgotten and

absorbed in a father’s grief for his dead son. David allowed the passion

of his emotion to sweep him away, and he wept as a woman and not as a

man. It was an outburst of Oriental exaggeration of feeling,

unrestrained and untempered by the reason or the will.

His followers regarded the spectacle with amazement and dismay. Had it

been worth their while to fight for such a king? One by one they slunk

away, and it seemed as if he would soon be left alone to the company of

himself and his harîm. But once more Joab came to the rescue of his old

master and companion in arms. It was indeed with the rough speech of the

soldier, but plain speech was needed even though it was rough and rude.

‘Thou hast shamed this day,’ he said, ‘the faces of all thy servants,

which this day have saved thy life, and the lives of thy sons and of thy

daughters, and the lives of thy wives, and the lives of thy concubines;

in that thou lovest thine enemies, and hatest thy friends. For thou

regardest neither princes nor servants: for this day I perceive, that if

Absalom had lived, and all we had died this day, then it had pleased

thee well. Now therefore arise, go forth, and speak comfortably unto thy

servants: for I swear by the Lord, if thou go not forth, there will not

tarry one with thee this night: and that will be worse unto thee than

all the evil that befell thee from thy youth until now.’

David was roused from his selfish and unworthy grief; weak and

self-indulgent as he had become, the words of Joab nevertheless forced

him to recognise the dangers he had provoked. But he never forgave his

monitor. He soon found an opportunity of punishing Joab for his loyalty,

and his dying orders to his successor were to put his grey-haired

servant to death.

Secret word was sent to the priests at Jerusalem that they should shame

the elders of Judah into demanding the return of the king, seeing that

he was their own tribesman, and that the rest of Israel had already

acknowledged his sovereignty. At the same time Amasa was appointed

commander-in-chief in place of Joab. David thus revenged himself upon

his too outspoken general, and also made a bid for popularity among the

Jewish forces who had followed Amasa.

The act was as foolish as it was unjust, and it soon brought its penalty

with it. The elders of Judah indeed begged the king to return, and he

was led across the Jordan in a sort of triumphal procession by the

delegates of that tribe. But the other tribes resented this

appropriation of the royal person. It was the Jews rather than the rest

of Israel who had revolted and made Absalom their king, while the

veterans of Joab who had remained loyal represented the whole nation.

For the first time since the death of Esh-Baal, the men of Israel and of

Judah stood over against one another with antagonistic interests and

angry rivalry; Israel claimed to have ten parts in the king, whereas

Judah had but one, and yet David’s action had implied that Judah alone

was his rightful heritage. Hardly was he again in Jerusalem before a new

and more dangerous revolt broke out against his rule. Sheba, a

Benjamite, raised the standard of rebellion, and his cry, ‘We have no

part in David,’ found an echo in the hearts of the northern tribes.

‘Every man of Israel,’ we are told, deserted ‘the son of Jesse’; Judah

alone adhered to him. But the strong arm and able brain that had so long

fought for David were no longer there to help him; Joab had been

superseded by Amasa; and the raw levies of Judah who had escaped from

the forest of Ephraim were but a poor substitute for the disciplined

forces which had created an empire. David at last awoke to the fact that

in a moment of weak passion he had done his best to throw away a crown;

Abishai was summoned in haste and sent with the bodyguard and ‘Joab’s

men’ against the new foe.

It would seem that Sheba’s camp had been at Gibeon, not far to the north

of Jerusalem. On the advance of the Jewish army he retreated northward.

Joab had accompanied his brother, and at ‘the great stone’ of Gibeon the

Jewish forces were overtaken by their new commander-in-chief. Amasa

placed himself at the head of them, clad in the robe of office which

Joab had worn for so many years. The provocation was great, and the

murder of Abner with which Joab had begun his career was repeated in the

murder of Amasa at the close of it. Abner, however, had been a general

of considerable ability and influence; and Joab had not yet accumulated

so many claims upon the gratitude of the king. The army took Joab’s side

in the matter: Amasa’s body was thrown into a field with a common cloth

above it, and the Jewish soldiers hurried on along the high-road in

pursuit of the foe. They would have no other commander but Joab, and his

degradation by the king was tacitly set aside.

With Joab once more at their head, the insurrection soon came to an end.

Sheba fled to the northern extremity of Israelitish territory and flung

himself into the city of Abel of Beth-Maachah.[504] Here he was closely

besieged until ‘a wise woman’ persuaded her fellow-citizens to cut off

his head and throw it to Joab. The rebellion was over, and Joab returned

in triumph to Jerusalem.

The last ten years of David’s life were passed in tranquillity. His

bodily and mental powers grew enfeebled, and he sank slowly into the

grave. The hardships of his youth and the self-indulgence and polygamy

of his later years had weakened his constitution prematurely. While his

early companions Joab and Abiathar still retained their vigour, the king

became old and worn-out. The intrigues of the harîm, it is true, still

continued, but there was no Absalom to steal away the hearts of the

people by his beauty and winsomeness of manner; no Amnon to assert in

deeds the rights of a crown-prince.

Israel was at peace with her neighbours. Edom and Zobah had been utterly

crushed; Moab and Ammon feared to move while Joab was alive. The petty

kings of Northern Syria paid intermittently their tribute; Tyre and

Sidon courted their powerful neighbour, whose friendship was preferable

to his hostility. Egypt was divided against herself; more than one

dynasty ruled in the country, and the Tanite sovereigns of the Delta had

neither wealth nor men. Like Egypt, Babylonia had fallen into decay, and

the defeat of the Assyrian king Assur-irbi by the Aramæans had cut off

Assyria from the nations of the West. The Philistines had been compelled

to become the servants of David; and the pirate-hordes who had flocked

to their aid from Krete and the Ægean now passed into the service of the

Israelitish king, or else transferred their attention to other parts of

the Mediterranean Sea. According to Greek legend, Thrace, Rhodes, and

Phrygia occupied the waters of which they had once been the masters.

Phœnician trading-ships could at last sail peaceably across them, and

Tyre accordingly, under Abibal and Hiram, became a centre of maritime

trade.

In the north, the Hittite empire had long since passed away. Kadesh, on

the Orontes, had become the capital of a small district, formidable to

no one, and on good terms with its Israelitish neighbours.[505] Hamath,

also, was in alliance with the Israelitish king. Among the wadis of the

Lebanon, near Damascus, Rezon, indeed, led the life of a bandit-chief,

and robbed the caravans which passed his way; but it was not until after

David’s death that he succeeded in establishing himself at Damascus, and

there founding a dynasty of kings.

At home, however, though outwardly all seemed calm, the seeds of

disunion and discontent were lying thick below the surface. The

rebellion of Absalom in Judah, of Sheba in Northern Israel, had shown

how fragile were the bonds of union that bound the tribes to one another

and to their king. The affections of Judah were not yet entwined around

the house of David; the feeling that they were a single nation had not

yet penetrated very deeply into the hearts of the other tribes. The

Davidic dynasty itself was not yet secure. It depended for its support

rather on the sword than on the loyalty of the people. The fallen

dynasty still had its followers and secret supporters, and now and then

an event occurred which showed how dangerous they might become. Shimei

the Benjamite doubtless represented the feeling of his tribe when he

cursed David in the hour of his humiliation; and David’s conduct after

his restoration to the throne shows that he could not trust even

Merib-Baal or Mephibosheth, the son of Jonathan, whom he had treated as

his own son.[506] An incident which had happened in an earlier part of

his reign is another proof of his readiness to root out as far as

possible the family of Saul. Three years in succession Palestine had

suffered from want of rain and consequent famine, and the oracle of

Yahveh declared that the cause of the visitation was Saul’s slaughter of

the Gibeonites. The massacre of the priests at Nob had indeed been

avenged by the death of the Israelitish king and his sons, and by the

fall of his throne, but other temple-servants besides the priests had

suffered from Saul’s outburst of mad anger, and their blood was still

crying out for revenge. Blood demanded blood, and the sacrifice of

Saul’s descendants could alone atone for the guilt of their forefather.

Mephibosheth was spared, partly because of his father Jonathan’s

friendship towards David, whose life he had once saved, partly because

little was to be feared from a lame man. But the five sons of Michal (?)

by Adriel of Meholah were handed over to the executioner.[507] They

stood too near the throne; apart from Mephibosheth they were, in fact,

the only direct descendants of the late king, and David was doubtless

glad of the opportunity of removing them from his path. His dying

injunctions to Solomon proved how merciless he could be when the safety

of his dynasty was at stake.

Two other descendants of Saul still remained, who might possibly be a

source of trouble. These were the sons of his concubine Rizpah, and they

also were condemned to die. The sacred number of seven victims was thus

made up, and David satisfied at once the religious scruples of the

Gibeonites and the political exigencies of his own position. Shimei had

some reason for calling him a ‘man of blood’ who had shed ‘the blood of

the house of Saul.’

The human victims were hanged on the sacred hill of Gibeah ‘before the

Lord,’ and none was allowed to take the bodies down until at last the

rain fell. Then they were buried solemnly in the ancestral tomb of

Saul’s family at Zelah, along with the ashes of Saul and Jonathan, which

David had brought from Jabesh-gilead. The great atonement had been made

and accepted by Yahveh, and at the same time David had cleared himself

from all charges of impiety towards the dead. The fallen dynasty had

ceased to be formidable.

Hence it was that when the northern tribes under Sheba broke away from

the house of David, they could find no representative of the family of

Saul to lead them. Sheba, it is true, was a Benjamite, but he came from

Mount Ephraim, and was not related to Saul. He was rather one of those

military generals who in after days played so large a part in the

history of the northern kingdom in dethroning and founding dynasties.

Nevertheless, the yoke of the royal supremacy was borne with impatience.

In spite of the support of the priesthood and the swords of Joab and the

foreign bodyguard, David’s reign was troubled by rebellion. As long,

indeed, as it was signalised by victories over a foreign foe, by the

conquest of neighbouring states, by the influx of captive slaves and the

acquisition of spoil, his subjects were well content with their

successful leader in war. His influence over those who were brought into

personal contact with him had always been great, and there were few who

could resist his charm of manner. But when the era of conquests was

past, when David had delegated his military duties to others, and had

retired more and more into the privacy of an Oriental palace, the seeds

of discontent began to grow and spread. Even in Judah there were

complaints that justice was neglected (2 Sam. xiv. 2-6); further off the

complaints must have been loud and deep. The unpopularity of the

conscription by which the ranks of the army were filled was patent even

to Joab (2 Sam. xxiv. 3), and the census on which it depended was

regarded as hateful to God as well as to man.

Even David himself half repented of his determination to number the

people (2 Sam. xxiv. 10), and the general feeling was expressed by the

seer Gad when he declared that the punishment of heaven would be visited

for the deed, not indeed upon the guilty king, but upon his innocent

subjects (2 Sam. xxiv. 13, 17). In the plague that devastated Palestine

they saw the anger of Yahveh, and the conscience-stricken king at once

assented to the common view.

The cessation of the plague was connected with the foundation of the

temple. At the very spot where David had seen the angel of death

standing with his sword unsheathed, the altar was built and the

sacrifice offered which appeased the wrath of the Lord. It was the

threshing-floor of Araunah the Jebusite, on the level summit of Mount

Moriah, where the old Jebusite population of Jerusalem still dwelt. It

may even be that Araunah was the last Jebusite king whose life and

freedom were spared when Jerusalem was surrendered to David.[508]

The threshing-floor was bought by David, and became the great

‘high-place’ of the new capital of the kingdom. Everything marked it out

as the site of that temple which in the Eastern world was a necessary

supplement of the royal palace. It was the highest part of the city; it

was, moreover, a smooth and sunny rock, and the place which it occupied

was open and unconfined. It had been the scene of a special revelation

of Yahveh to the king, and the altar erected on it had been the means of

preserving the people of Israel from death. It is possible, too, that

the spot was already sacred. In the Tel el-Amarna tablets, Ebed-Tob,

king of Jerusalem, speaks of the Temple of Nin-ip as standing on ‘the

mountain of Uru-salim,’ and of all the mountains of Jerusalem the future

temple-mount was the most prominent and commanding.

We do not know when the pestilence occurred which thus had such

momentous consequences for the later religion of Judah. The empire of

David already extended as far as ‘Kadesh of the Hittites,’[509] but Edom

does not as yet seem to have become a province of Israel. The census was

taken in order to ascertain the number of fighting men in Israel, not

with a view to the levying of taxes. In the latter case the conquered

provinces would have been included in the registration. We may gather,

therefore, that the event happened about the middle of David’s reign,

probably at the time when the struggle with Zobah was still going on.

It was at a later period, when ‘the Lord had given him rest round about

from all his enemies’ (2 Sam. vii. 1), that he announced to Nathan his

purpose of building a temple. Nathan had taken Gad’s place as the seer

and confidant of the king, and the palace of David had already been

erected. But Yahveh would not allow him to carry out his plan. His hands

were stained too deeply with blood; the work was destined for the son

whose name signified ‘the peaceful one,’ and in whose birth and training

the seer had taken so profound an interest.[510] All that David could do

was to prepare the way for his successor, to collect the materials for

the work, and to determine the place whereon the temple of God should

stand.

Two lists have come down to us of David’s chief officers, extracted from

the State annals. The first list is given at the end of the annalistic

summary of the events of his reign (2 Sam. viii. 16-18), and belongs to

the earlier portion of it; the second must have been drawn up not long

before his death. From the outset, it is clear, the kingdom was as

thoroughly organised as that of the surrounding states. There was the

‘recorder’ or ‘chronicler’ whose duty it was to hand down the memory of

all that happened to future generations; the scribe or chief secretary

who wrote and answered official letters, and superintended the copying

and re-editing of older documents in the record office; the

commander-in-chief of the army, who corresponded to the _turtannu_ or

tartan of the Assyrians, and the commander of the foreign troops. The

administration, in fact, seems to have closely resembled that of

Assyria, excepting only that there was no Vizier or Prime Minister who

acted as the representative of the king. It presupposes a

long-established use of writing and all the machinery of a civilised

Oriental state. The scribe and the chronicler make their appearance in

Israel simultaneously with the establishment of an organised government.

A knowledge of the art of writing could have been no new thing.

Jehoshaphat, the son of Ahilud, we are told, was the recorder, Seraiah

was the secretary,[511] Benaiah the commander of the Kretan and

Philistine bodyguard. By the side of the civil functionaries were the

two high priests Zadok and Abiathar, while the office of royal chaplains

was filled by the sons of David himself. Their duties were probably to

offer such sacrifices as were not public in the absence or in place of

their father. That there should have been two high priests is difficult

to explain. Zadok was the son of Ahitub, whom the Chronicler makes the

son of Amariah, and a descendant of Phinehas the son of Eleazar (1

Chron. vi. 7), while Abiathar was the son of Ahimelech or Ahiah, the

grandson of Ahitub, and great-grandson of Phinehas the son of Eli.[512]

Abiathar appears to have represented the family of Ithamar the younger

brother of Eleazar the son of Aaron; at any rate, it was to his family

that the safe keeping of the ark had been intrusted as well as the high

priesthood at the sanctuary of Shiloh. The destruction of Shiloh dealt a

blow at its influence and _prestige_, the massacre of the priests at Nob

almost annihilated it. Room was thus given for another line of priests

who claimed descent from the elder branch of Aaron’s family, and who had

probably preserved the Mosaic tradition in another part of Israel. Is it

possible that Zadok had followed the fortunes of Esh-Baal, while

Abiathar attached himself to David? At all events, the unification of

the kingdom brought with it the unification of the high-priestly

families; throughout the greater part of David’s reign the ark at

Jerusalem was served by both Zadok and Abiathar, with numerous Levites

under them (2 Sam. xv. 24-29). That Zadok is always named first, though

Abiathar had been the early friend and priest of David, implies that his

claim to represent the elder branch of the high priest’s family was

recognised.

When the second list of David’s officials was compiled certain important

changes had taken place. Seraiah, the secretary, had been succeeded by

Sheva or Shisha (2 Sam. xx. 25; 1 Kings iv. 3); ‘Ira, the Jairite,’ had

become the chaplain of David, and the growth of the empire had

necessitated the creation of a new office. This was the imperial

treasurership which was held by a certain Hadoram, who seems to have

been of Syrian origin, and whose duty it was to collect the tribute of

the conquered provinces.[513] Possibly he had already gained experience

of the office under one of the Syrian kings.

Other officers of David are enumerated by the Chronicler (1 Chron.

xxvii. 25-34). They had their analogues in Assyria and Egypt, and show

how thoroughly the court of Israel was modelled after those of the

neighbouring states. Among them we read of Azmaveth, the son of Adiel,

who presided over the exchequer; of Jonathan, the son of Uzziah, who

superintended the public granaries, which must therefore have been

established in imitation of those of Egypt and Babylonia;[514] of Ezri,

the superintendent of the peasants who worked on the crown lands; of

Shimei and Zabdi, who had charge of the royal vineyards and

wine-cellars; of Baal-hanan and Joash, to whom were intrusted the olive

plantations and storehouses of oil; of Obil, the Ishmaelite, the chief

of the camel-drivers; of Jehdeiah, the head of the ass-drivers; and of

Jaziz, the Hagarene, who superintended the shepherds of the king.[515]

David sank slowly into the grave, old in mind as well as in years. A

young maiden, Abishag the Shunammite, was brought to lie beside the

king, and so keep up the warmth of his body. But it was all in vain, and

it became clear that he could not last long. The bed of the dying king

was surrounded by intrigue. Adonijah, the eldest of his surviving sons,

naturally looked upon himself as the rightful heir. He could count upon

two powerful supporters. One was the priest Abiathar, who had first

given David’s title to the crown a religious sanction; the other was

Joab, who had created his empire. But Bath-sheba had long since

determined that she should be queen-mother, and that her son Solomon

should wear the crown. Behind her stood Nathan, the spiritual director

both of herself and of her son. The adhesion of Abiathar and Joab to

Adonijah, moreover, drove their rivals Zadok and Benaiah into the

opposite camp, and Benaiah took with him the foreign bodyguard of which

he was commander, and which, as in other countries, thus showed itself

ready from the outset to make and unmake kings. Above all, Bath-sheba

still exercised her old influence over the half-conscious monarch, and

it did not need the incitements of Nathan to induce her to exert it once

more on behalf of Solomon. Backed as she was by the prophet, the issue

was not doubtful, and David did as he was bid. Bath-sheba reminded him

of his old promise to herself, Nathan craftily represented that Adonijah

was already seizing the crown before his father’s life was extinct.

Zadok and Benaiah were accordingly summoned, and ordered to escort the

young prince on David’s own mule to the spring of Gihon, and there, just

outside the eastern wall of Jerusalem, where the Spring of the Virgin

now gushes from the ground, to anoint him with the oil of consecration,

and proclaim his accession by the sound of trumpet. The presence of the

priests and the bodyguard was a visible sign that the kingship and the

power had been transferred from David to Solomon.

Meanwhile Adonijah was holding a feast at the stone of Zoheleth, near

En-Rogel, the Fuller’s Spring, the modern Well of Job south of the Pool

of Siloam. Abiathar and Joab were with him; so also were his brothers,

who seem to have had but little affection for the favourite of Nathan,

as well as those representatives of Judah who had been the mainstay of

Absalom’s rebellion. Solomon appears to have been regarded as tainted by

foreign blood; at all events, Judah followed Adonijah as it had followed

Absalom.[516] But Nathan and Bath-sheba had taken their measures in

time. In the midst of the feast news was brought to the conspirators by

Johanan, the son of Abiathar, that Solomon had been proclaimed king, and

that his person was already protected by the royal bodyguard. The guests

fled in dismay, and Adonijah took refuge at the altar. There the

sovereign-elect promised him that he would spare his life.

Solomon next received the last commands of the dying king. David’s last

thought was for the maintenance of the kingdom and the dynasty. Solomon

was to follow in the footsteps of his father, to obey the law of Yahveh

and His priests. More especially he was to seek an early opportunity of

ridding himself of possible rivals or antagonists whom the weakness or

policy of David himself had hitherto spared. Joab was to be put to

death; he was too powerful a subject to be allowed to live, aged though

he now was, and his complicity with Adonijah made him dangerous to the

new king. Shimei, too, was to be slain; as long as he lived the fallen

dynasty had a leader around whom the disaffected might rally. On the

other hand, the kindness of Barzillai, the Gileadite, was not to be

forgotten; favour to him would win the hearts of the men of Gilead.[517]

David died, leaving behind him a name which his countrymen never forgot.

He became the ideal of a patriot king. He had founded a dynasty and an

empire; and though the empire soon fell to pieces, the dynasty survived

and exercised a momentous influence upon the religious history of the

world. He had established once for all the principle of monarchy in

Israel; never again could the Israelites return to the anarchic days of

the Judges, or forget the lessons of unity which they had been taught.

In character he was generous and kind-hearted, though in his later years

his kindheartedness degenerated into weakness. He was, moreover, brave

and skilful, with a personal charm of manner and readiness of speech

which those about him found it impossible to withstand. Alone of his

sons, Absalom seems to have inherited these gifts of his father, which

may perhaps account for the blind love David had for him. But along with

these gifts went a rich fund of Oriental selfishness, which made him

never lose an opportunity of securing his own advantage or promotion. It

was a selfishness so deep as to be wholly unconscious; whatever made for

his interests was necessarily right. It was combined with clearness of

head and definiteness of aim, which ensured success in whatever he

undertook. A good judge of men, he first attached them to himself by his

gifts of manner, and then knew how to trust and employ them.