The Roman soldiers--seeing the wall of Jotapata tremble beneath the
blows of the battering ram, whose iron head pounded to powder the
stones against which it struck--redoubled their efforts when,
suddenly, from three sally ports which they had prepared, the Jews
burst out; carrying their weapons in their right hands, and blazing
torches in their left. As on previous occasions, their onslaught
was irresistible. They swept the Romans before them; and set fire
to the engines, the wattles, and the palisades, and even to the
woodwork of the embankment. The timber had by this time dried and,
as bitumen and pitch had been used as cement in the construction of
the works, the flames spread with great rapidity; and the work of
many days was destroyed, in an hour. All the engines and
breastworks of the Fifth and Tenth Legions were entirely consumed.
Just as the attack began, Eleazar--the son of Sameas, a
Galilean--with an immense stone from the wall, struck the iron head
of the battering ram, and knocked it off. He then leaped down from
the wall, seized the iron head, and carried it back into the city.
He was pierced by five arrows. Still, he pressed on and regained
the walls; and held up the iron head in the sight of all, and then
fell down dead.
Such was the spirit with which the Jews were animated; and the
Roman soldiers, trained as they were to conflict among many
peoples, were yet astounded by the valor displayed by the race that
they had considered as unwarlike peasants. But the Romans were not
discouraged. Heavy masses of troops were brought up, the Jews were
driven within their walls and, towards evening, the ram was again
in position.
While Vespasian was directing the attack, he was struck by a
javelin in the heel. The Romans ceased from the attack and crowded
round their general but, as soon as they ascertained that his wound
was not serious, they returned to the attack with redoubled fury.
All that night, the contest raged unceasingly. The Roman engines
swept the walls with missiles. The towers came crashing down, under
the blows of the huge stones; while the javelins, arrows, and the
stones from the slings created terrible havoc among the defenders
of the wall. But, as fast as these fell, fresh combatants took
their places; and they continued hurling down stones, and blazing
brands, upon the freshly-erected wattles round the battering ram.
The Romans had the advantage in this strife for, while the fires on
the walls--at which the Jews lighted their brands, and boiled the
pitch and sulphur in which these were dipped--enabled them to aim
accurately, they themselves worked in deep shadow, at the foot of
the wall.
The night was a terrible one. The bolts, stones, and arrows which
passed over the wall spread ruin and death over the town. The din
was unceasing. The thundering noise of the great stones; the dull,
deep sound as the ram struck the wall; the fierce shouts of the
combatants, as they fought hand to hand--for the corpses were, in
places, piled so thick that the assailants could mount upon them to
the top of the walls--the shrieks of the women, and the screams of
the children, combined in one terrible and confused noise; which
was echoed back, and multiplied, by the surrounding mountains.
Morning was just breaking when the shaken wall gave way, and fell,
with a crash. Vespasian called off his weary troops, and allowed
them a short time for refreshment; then he prepared to storm the
breach. He brought up, first, a number of his bravest horsemen;
dismounted, and clad in complete armor. They were provided with long
pikes, and were to charge forward, the instant the machines for
mounting the breach were fixed. Behind these were the best of his
infantry, while in their rear were the archers and slingers. Other
parties, with scaling ladders, were to attack the uninjured part of
the wall, and to draw off the attention of the besiegers. The rest
of the horse extended all over the hills round the town, so that
none might make their escape.
Josephus prepared to receive the attack. He placed the old, infirm,
and wounded to repel the attack on the uninjured parts of the wall.
He then chose the five strongest and bravest men and, with them,
took his place to form the front line of the defenders of the
breach. He told them to kneel down and cover their heads with their
bucklers, until the enemy's archers had emptied their quivers and,
when the Romans had fixed the machines for mounting, they were to
leap down among the enemy and fight to the last; remembering that
there was now no hope of safety, naught but to revenge the fate
which was impending over them, their wives and children.
As the Romans mounted to the assault, a terrible cry broke out from
the women. They saw the Romans still manning the lines which cut
off all escape, and they believed that the end was now at hand.
Josephus, fearing that their cries would dispirit the men, ordered
them all to be locked up in their houses, and then calmly awaited
the assault.
The trumpet of the legion sounded, and the whole Roman host set up
a terrible shout while, at the same moment, the air was darkened by
the arrows of their bowmen. Kneeling beneath their bucklers, the
Jews remained calm and immovable; and then, before the Romans had
time to set foot upon the breach, with a yell of fury they rushed
upon them, and threw themselves into the midst of their assailants.
For a time, the Romans could make no way against the desperate
courage of the Jews but, as fast as the leading files fell, fresh
troops took their places; while the Jews, who were vastly reduced
by their losses, had no fresh men to take the place of those who
died.
At last, the solid phalanx of the Romans drove back the defenders,
and entered the breach. But as they did so, from the walls above
and from the breach in front, vessels filled with boiling oil were
hurled down upon them. The Roman ranks were broken; and the men, in
agony, rolled on the ground, unable to escape the burning fluid
which penetrated through the joints of their armor. Those who turned
to fly were pierced by the javelins of the Jews; for the Romans
carried no defensive armor on their backs, which were never
supposed to be turned towards an enemy.
Fresh troops poured up the breach, to take the place of their
agonized comrades; but the Jews threw down, upon the planks,
vessels filled with a sort of vegetable slime. Unable to retain
their footing upon the slippery surface, the Romans fell upon each
other, in heaps. Those rolling down carried others with them, and a
terrible confusion ensued, the Jews never ceasing to pour their
missiles upon them.
When evening came, Vespasian called off his men. He saw that, to
overcome the desperate resistance of the defenders, fresh steps
must be taken before the assault was repeated; and he accordingly
gave orders that the embankment should be raised, much higher than
before; and that upon it three towers, each fifty feet high and
strongly girded with iron, should be built.
This great work was carried out, in spite of the efforts of the
besieged. In the towers, Vespasian placed his javelin men, archers,
and light machines and, as these now looked down upon the wall,
they were enabled to keep up such a fire upon it that the Jews
could no longer maintain their footing; but contented themselves
with lying behind it, and making desperate sallies whenever they
saw any parties of Romans approaching the breach.
In the meantime, a terrible calamity had befallen the neighboring
town of Japha. Emboldened by the vigorous defense of Jotapata, it
had closed its gates to the Romans. Vespasian sent Trajan, with two
thousand foot and a thousand horse, against it.
The city was strongly situated, and surrounded by a double wall.
Instead of waiting to be attacked, the people sallied out and fell
upon the Romans. They were, however, beaten back; and the Romans,
pressing on their heels, entered with them through the gates of the
outside walls. The defenders of the gates through the inner walls,
fearing that these, too, would be carried by the mob, closed them;
and all those who had sallied out were butchered by the Romans.
Trajan, seeing that the garrison must now be weak, sent to
Vespasian, and asked him to send his son to complete the victory.
Titus soon arrived, with a thousand foot and five hundred horse
and, at once, assaulted the inner walls. The defense was feeble.
The Romans effected their entry but, inside the town, a desperate
conflict took place; the inhabitants defending every street, with
the energy of despair, while the women aided their efforts by
hurling down stones, and missiles, from the roofs. The battle
lasted six hours, when all who could bear arms were slain. The rest
of the male population were put to death, the women taken as
slaves. In all, fifteen thousand were killed, two thousand one
hundred and thirty taken prisoners.
In another direction, a heavy blow had also been struck by the
Romans. The Samaritans had not openly joined the revolt, but had
gathered in great force on Mount Gerizim. Cerealis was sent by
Vespasian, with three thousand infantry and six hundred horse,
against them. He surrounded the foot of the mountain, and abstained
from an assault until the Samaritans were weakened by thirst--many
dying from want of water. Cerealis then mounted the hill, and sent
to them to throw down their arms. On their refusal, he charged them
from all sides, and put every soul--in number, eleven thousand six
hundred--to the sword.
The situation of the defenders of Jotapata was now pitiable,
indeed. Scarce a man but had received wounds, more or less severe,
in the desperate combats. All were utterly worn out with fatigue;
for they were under arms, day and night, in readiness to repel the
expected attack. Numbers of the women and children had died of
thirst, and terror. Save the armed men lying in groups near the
foot of the wall, in readiness to repel an assault, scarce a soul
was to be seen in the lately-crowded streets.
The houses were now ample to contain the vastly diminished number.
Here the women and children crouched, in utter prostration. The
power of suffering was almost gone. Few cared how soon the end
came.
The siege had now continued for forty-seven days; and the Roman
army, strong in numbers, in discipline, and in arms, and commanded
by one of its best generals, had yet failed to capture the little
town--which they had expected to take within a few hours of their
appearance before it--and so fierce was the valor of the besieged,
that Vespasian did not venture to order his legions forward to
renew the assault. But now, a deserter informed him that the
garrison was greatly exhausted, that the men on guard could not
keep awake; and that the breach could be carried, at night, by a
sudden assault.
Vespasian prepared for the assault, which was to take place at
daybreak. A thick mist enveloped the town, and the sleeping
sentries were not aroused by the silent steps of the approaching
Romans. Titus was the first to enter the breach, followed by a
small number of troops. These killed the sleeping guards, and the
main body of the Romans then poured in. Before the Jews were
conscious of their danger, the whole of the Roman army was upon
them.
Then the slaughter commenced. Many of the Jews killed each other,
rather than fall into the hands of the Romans. Many threw
themselves over the precipices, numbers took refuge in the deep
caverns under the city. That day, all in the streets or houses were
killed; the next, the Romans searched the caverns and underground
passages, slaughtering all the men and boys, and sparing none but
infants and women. During the siege and capture, forty thousand men
fell. Only twelve hundred women and children were spared. So
complete was the surprise, and so unresistingly did the Jews submit
to slaughter, that only one Roman was killed.
This was Antoninus, a centurion. He came upon a Jew in a deep
cavern, and told him he would spare his life, if he would
surrender. The Jew asked him to give him his hand, as a pledge of
his faith, and to help him out of the cave. Antoninus did so, and
the Jew at once ran him through with a spear.
John was asleep when the Romans entered. He was aroused by Jonas
rushing into the room. The boy was at all times restless, and
suffered less than most of those within the walls; for there was an
abundance of grain up to the end of the siege and, until the Romans
had discovered the way down to the water, he had not suffered in
any way from thirst. He was considered too young to take part in
the actual fighting; but had labored with the rest in repairing the
defenses, carrying food to men on the walls, and carrying away the
dead and wounded.
"Get up, John!" he exclaimed. "In the mist I have just run upon a
mass of Roman soldiers, ranged in order. The town is taken. Quick,
before they scatter and begin to slay!"
John caught up his sword, and ran out. Just as he did so, a
terrible shout was heard, followed by shrieks and cries. The work
of butchery had begun.
John's plans had been laid for some time. At night Jonas had
frequently descended to the ledge, taking with him food, and jars
of the water he brought up from below; and once or twice John had
descended, Jonas fastening a rope round his body, and lowering it
gradually for, active as he was, John could not get down without
such assistance. Indeed, to any one who looked casually over the
top, the descent appeared absolutely impossible.
At the top of their speed, the lads ran to the spot at which the
descent had to be made. The rope was hidden close at hand. John
slipped the noose at the end over his shoulders. Jonas twisted the
rope once round a stunted tree, which grew close by, and allowed it
to go out gradually. As soon as the strain upon it ceased, and he
knew John was upon the ledge, he loosened the rope and dropped the
end over; and then began, himself, to descend, his bare feet and
hands clinging to every inequality, however slight, in the rock.
He presently stood by the side of John. The latter had coiled up
the rope, and laid it by him; and had then thrown himself down, and
was sobbing bitterly. Jonas sat down quietly beside him, till he
had recovered his composure.
"It is no use fretting," he said, philosophically. "There's no one
you care about, particularly, up there; and I am sure there's no
one I care about--only I should like to have peeped in, and have
seen her face, when the Romans burst open the door. I don't suppose
she was very sorry, though, for it will be better to be a Roman
slave than to be going through what they have been, for the last
month."
"It is horrible!" John said, "Horrible! However, Jonas, let us
thank God for having thus preserved our lives, when all besides are
in such terrible danger of death."
For a time, the two lads sat silent. John was the first to speak.
"I am thankful," he said, "that, owing to our being down the face
of the rock, the sound is carried away above our heads, and we can
hear but little of what is going on there. It seems a confusion of
sounds, and comes to us rather as an echo from the hills, yonder,
than directly from above."
Sometimes, indeed, thrilling screams and shouts were heard but, for
the most part, the sounds were so blended together that they could
not be distinguished one from another. As soon as the mist cleared
off, the lads lay down, as far back from the ledge as they could
get.
"We must not lift up a head, today," John said. "The guards below,
and on the hills, will have their eyes fixed on the rock, on the
lookout for fugitives and, until nighttime, we must not venture to
sit up. Fortunately, that outer edge of the shelf is a good deal
higher than it is, back here; and I don't think that even those on
the mountain, opposite, could see us as we lie."
"I should think a good many may escape, like us," Jonas said,
presently. "There are numbers of caverns and passages, from which
they have dug the stone for the building of the houses. A lot of
the people are sure to hide away, there."
"I daresay they will," John agreed; "but I fear the Romans will
hunt them all out."
"How long do you think we shall have to stay here, John?"
"Till the Romans go, whether it is one week or two; but I do not
think they will stay here many days. The town is so full of dead
that, in this hot weather, it will be unbearable before long. At
any rate, we shall be able to pass a good deal of time in sleep. We
have not had much of it, lately. Till last night, I have not been
in the house, at night, for over a fortnight. But I felt, last
night, as if I must have a sleep, whatever came of it. I suppose
the guards at the breach must have felt the same, or the Romans
could never have got in without the alarm being given."
For a few minutes, John lay thinking of the terrible scenes that
must be passing, on the rock above; then his drowsiness overcame
him, and he was soon fast asleep.
It was dark when he woke. As he moved, Jonas spoke.
"Are you awake, John? Because if you are, let us have something to
eat. I have been awake the last four hours, and I have been wishing
you would stir."
"There was no occasion to wait for my waking, Jonas. There are the
grain and the water, close at hand; and no cooking is required."
"I wasn't going to eat till you woke, if it had been all night,"
Jonas said. "Still, I am glad you are awake; they are quiet now, up
above, and I have heard the Roman trumpets sounding. I expect that
most of them have marched back to their camp."
The next day passed like the first. Occasionally cries of agony
were heard. Sometimes bodies were hurled from the top of the rock,
but a short distance from where they were lying.
The next two days passed more quietly, but upon that following a
murmur, as of a multitude of men working, was heard. From time to
time there were heavy crashes, as masses of stones, hurled down the
precipice, struck against its face as they fell; and then bounded,
far out beyond the stream, at its foot. All these sounds were
echoed back by the surrounding hills, until it seemed as if a storm
was raging, far away in the heart of the mountains.
"They are destroying the town," John said, in answer to his
companion's question as to the cause of the uproar. "That is the
best thing possible for us. Had it remained standing, they might
have left a garrison here, to prevent our people reoccupying it. If
they destroy it, it is a sign that they intend to march away,
altogether."
Several times Jonas wished to climb up, at night, to ascertain what
was going on; but John would not hear of it.
"There is nothing to find out, Jonas. We know what they did at
Gadara, where they slew all the males and carried off all the
women, although no resistance was offered. We may be sure that
there will be no more mercy shown at Jotapata, which has affronted
the Roman power by keeping their great army at bay, for nearly
seven weeks, and whose capture has cost them thousands of men. We
know what has happened--they have slain every soul, save a few
young women, who were worth money as slaves. Now they are leveling
the town to its foundations. The place that defied them will cease
to exist.
"And yet, they talk of Roman magnanimity! Would we had five
thousand fighting men, hidden here with us. We would climb then,
Jonas, and fall upon them in the night, and take a mighty vengeance
for the woes they have inflicted. But, being alone, we will remain
here till we have reason to believe that the last Roman has left.
Did one of them catch sight of you, our fate would be sealed. They
have no boys among them, and the slightest glimpse of your figure
would be enough to tell them that you were a Jew who had been in
hiding and, in their fear that one man should escape their
vengeance, they would hunt you down, as a pack of wolves might hunt
down a solitary lamb."
"They could never get down here, John."
"Not by the way you came; but they would lower a cage full of armed
men, from above, and slay us without pity."
"But if I were found out, John, I would not lead them here. I would
throw myself over the precipice, rather than that risk should come
to you!"
"But I don't want you to throw yourself over the precipice, Jonas.
I want to keep you with me: in the first place because we are great
friends now; in the second because, if you were killed, I might as
well throw myself over, at once--for I do not think I could ever
climb up this rock, without your assistance."
"It is much easier going up than coming down, John."
"That may be and, indeed, I have no doubt it is so; but I would
rather not put the matter to the test. No; we have provision and
water here, enough to last us for ten days and, until they are
consumed, it were best not to stir from here."
Four days later, however, they heard the sound of the Roman
trumpets and, on raising their heads carefully a few inches, saw
that the guards on the opposite hills had all been withdrawn.
Having now less fear of being seen, they raised their heads still
further, and looked up the valley to the great camp on the hillside
where, at night, they had seen the fires of the Romans, blazing
high.
"They are going!" Jonas exclaimed, joyously. "Look at the sun
sparkling on the long lines of arms and armor. Not a sound is to be
heard, above--the work is done. They are about to march away."
"Do not let us expose ourselves further," John said. "It may be
that they have left a few watchers, to see if any who have eluded
their search may show themselves, believing that they have gone. I
have no doubt they are going and, by tomorrow, it will be safe for
us to move."
All day they heard the sound of trumpets, for the great host took a
long time getting into motion but, gradually, the sound grew
fainter and fainter, as the rear guard of the army took the road
which they had cut through the mountains, eight weeks before.
That night, when darkness fell, and the two lads sat up on their
ledge and looked round, not a light was to be seen; and not a sound
broke the silence of the night.
"At daybreak tomorrow, Jonas, as soon as it becomes light enough
for you to see your way, you shall go up and look round. They may
have left a guard behind, but I should hardly think so. After the
wholesale slaughter at Gadara, and here, the hatred of the Romans
will be so intense that, confident as they are in their arms and
discipline, they would hardly venture to leave a small body of men,
in the heart of these mountains."
As soon as it was daylight, Jonas prepared to climb up to the
plateau above. He took with him the rope; arranging that, if he
found that the place was absolutely deserted, he would lower one
end to John and fasten the other to the tree above; and that he
would then aid John, as much as his strength would permit, in
making his way up the rock.
John watched his companion making his way up, and observed exactly
where he placed his feet and hands, until he was out of sight. Then
he waited. In about a quarter of an hour, the end of the rope fell
in front of him. He fastened it securely under his arms and then,
taking off his sandals, began the ascent. It was not so difficult
as it had looked; and the steady strain which Jonas kept on the
rope, from above, aided him and gave him confidence. In three or
four minutes, he gained the top of the rock.
"There is not a soul to be seen," Jonas said. "The town has gone,
and the people, and the Romans. All is desolation!"
The scene was indeed changed, since John had last looked upon it.
Not a wall, in the so-lately busy little town, had been left
standing. The whole area was covered, three or four feet deep with
a chaos of stones, mortar, and beams; forming a great grave, below
which lay the bodies of forty thousand of the defenders of the
place. The walls so bravely defended had disappeared; and the
embankment, whose erection had cost the Romans so much labor and
bloodshed, had been destroyed by fire. A dead silence hung over the
place, and the air was tainted with a terrible odor of corruption.
The desolation and solitude of the scene overpowered John, and he
sat down on a fragment of masonry and wept, unrestrainedly, for
some time. He roused himself, at last, as Jonas touched him.
"I shall go down again, and get what grain there is left," the boy
said. "There is no chance of finding anything to eat within a day's
march of here. The Roman horse will have destroyed every village
within a wide circuit."
"But I cannot let you go down again, Jonas. The danger is too
great."
"But I have been up and down, lots of times," Jonas said.
"That may be, Jonas, but you might be dashed to pieces, this time."
"Well, if you like I will fasten the rope round me; then, if I
should slip, I shall be safe."
John consented with some reluctance, but he was so nervous and
shaken that he walked some distance away, and did not turn round
until he heard Jonas' footsteps again approaching him.
"Now we can start," the boy said. "We have got grain here, enough
for three days; and tonight we will crush it, and cook it. I have
had enough of eating raw grain, for a long time to come."
The boy's cheerfulness restored the tone of John's nerves
and--making their way with some difficulty over the chaos of stone
and timber, until they arrived at the pile of charred timber, which
marked the spot where the Roman embankment had stood--they stepped
out briskly, descended the hill, crossed the deserted lines of
circumvallation; and then began to ascend the mountains, which had,
for some distance, been stripped of their timber for the purposes
of the siege. In another hour's walking they reached the forest,
and pressed on until the afternoon. Not that there was any need for
speed, now, but John felt a longing to place as wide a gap as
possible between himself and the great charnel ground which, alone,
marked the spot where Jotapata had stood.
At length, Jonas urged the necessity for a halt, for rest and food.
They chose a spot at the foot of a great tree, and then set to work
to collect a store of firewood. John took out the box of tinder
which, in those days, everyone carried about with him, and a fire
was soon lighted. Jonas then looked for two large flat stones, and
set to work to grind some grain.
The halting place had been chosen from the vicinity of a little
spring, which rose a few yards distant. With this the pounded grain
was moistened and, after kneading it up, Jonas rolled it in balls
and placed them in the hot ashes of the fire. In half an hour they
were cooked, and the meal was eaten with something like
cheerfulness.
Another day's walking brought them to a little village, nestled in
the forest. Here they were kindly received, though the people
scarce believed them when they said that they were survivors of the
garrison of Jotapata. The news of the capture of the town, and the
destruction of its defenders, had already spread through the
country; and John now learned, for the first time, the fate which
had befallen Japha and the Samaritans on Mount Gerizim--events
which filled him with consternation.
The folly of the tactics which had been pursued--of cooping all the
fighting men up in the walled cities, to be destroyed one after the
other by the Romans--was more than ever apparent. He had never,
from the first, been very hopeful of the result of the struggle;
but it seemed, now, as if it could end in nothing but the total
destruction of the Jewish race of Palestine.
John stayed for two days in the little mountain village and then,
with a store of provisions sufficient to last him for some days,
pursued his way; following the lines of the Anti-Libanus, until
that range of hills joined the range of Mount Hermon, north of the
sources of the Jordan.
He had stopped for a day at Dan, high up among the hills. Here the
people had no fear of Roman vengeance; for the insurrection had not
extended so far north, and the Roman garrison of Caesarea Philippi
overawed the plains near the upper waters of the Jordan.
Determined, however, to run no unnecessary risks, John and his
companion pursued their way on the lower slopes of the hills until,
after six days' walking, they arrived at Neve.
Here they learned where the farm of John's kinsman was situated,
and made their way thither. As they came up to the house a woman
came out, gazed intently at John and, with a scream of terror, ran
back into the house. It was one of Martha's maids. John stood
irresolute, fearing that his sudden appearance might startle the
other inmates when, suddenly, Mary appeared at the door, looking
pale but resolute. She, too, gazed fixedly at John; and her lips
moved, but no sound came from them.
"Don't you know me, Mary?" John said.
The girl gave a scream of joy, and threw herself into his arms. A
moment later Martha, followed by Miriam and the other servants,
came out.
"It is no spirit, mother, it is John, himself," Mary exclaimed and,
the next moment, John was clasped in his mother's arms.
It was not surprising that the first who saw John had thought that
he was a spirit. The news had already been received that the whole
of the garrison of Jotapata had been put to the sword; and John's
appearance was changed so greatly, within the last three months,
that he would scarce have been known. Fatigue, anxiety, and the
loss of blood--from several wounds which he had received, in the
course of the siege--had so pulled him down that he was but a
shadow of his former self. His clothes were in rags. He had washed
them at the village where he had first stopped for, before that,
they had been stiffened with blood; and even now, stained and
ragged as they were, they gave him the appearance of a mendicant.
Jonas had held back a little, while the first joyful greeting was
going on, but John soon turned to him.
"Mother," he said, "this must be as another son to you for, next to
the protection of God, it is to him I owe my life."
Martha welcomed the young stranger affectionately.
"Before you tell us aught that has befallen you, John, go and
change your garments, and wash, while we prepare a meal for you.
The clothes of your uncle's son Silas, who is about your age, will
fit you; and those of his younger brother will do for your friend."
"Was the last news of my father good?" John asked.
"Yes, the Lord be praised, he was well when we heard of him, a week
since!"
The travelers were at once conducted to a room, and supplied with
water and clean garments. By the time they had changed, and
returned to the general room, John's uncle and cousin had been
fetched in from the farm, and he received another hearty welcome.
It almost seemed to him, as he sat down to a comfortable meal, with
Mary and his mother waiting upon him, that the events of the past
two months had been a hideous dream; and that he had never left his
comfortable home on the shore of the Lake of Galilee. As to Jonas,
unaccustomed to kind treatment, or to luxury of any kind, he was
too confused to utter a word. When the meal was over, John was
asked to tell his news; and he related all the stirring incidents
of the siege, and the manner in which he and his companion had
effected his escape.
"We are, no doubt," he concluded, "the sole male survivors of the
siege."
"Not so, my son," Martha said. "There is a report that Josephus has
survived the siege; and that he is a prisoner, in the hands of the
Romans."
"It may be that they have spared him, to grace Vespasian's triumph,
at Rome," John said. "It is their custom, I believe, to carry the
generals they may take in war to Rome, to be slain there."
It was not until some time afterwards that John learned the
particulars of the capture of Josephus. When he saw that all was
lost, Josephus had leaped down the shaft of a dry well, from the
bottom of which a long cavern led off, entirely concealed from the
sight of those above. Here he found forty of the leading citizens,
who had laid in a store of food sufficient to last for many days.
Josephus, at least, who gives his account of all these circumstances,
says that he quite unexpectedly found these forty citizens in hiding
there; but this is improbable in the extreme, and there can be little
doubt that he had, long before, prepared this refuge with them, when
he found that the people would not allow them to attempt to make
their escape from the city.
At night Josephus came up from the well and tried to make his
escape but, finding the Romans everywhere vigilant, he returned to
the place of concealment. On the third day a woman, who was aware
of the hiding place, informed the Romans of it--probably in return
for a promise of freedom, for the Romans were searching high and
low for Josephus; who could not, they were convinced, have escaped
through their lines. Vespasian immediately sent two tribunes,
Paulinus and Gallicanus, to induce him to surrender by promise of
his life.
Josephus refused to come out, and Vespasian sent another tribune,
Nicanor, a personal friend of Josephus, to assure him of his
safety, if he would surrender. In the account Josephus gives of the
transaction, he says that at this moment he suddenly remembered a
dream--in which it was revealed to him that all these calamities
should fall upon the Jews, that he himself should be saved, and
that Vespasian should become emperor--and that, therefore, if he
passed over to the Romans he would do so not as a renegade, but in
obedience to the voice of God.
It was certainly a happy coincidence that the dream should have
occurred to him, at this moment. He at once announced his readiness
to surrender; but his forty companions did not see the matter in
the same light. The moment Josephus left them, the Roman soldiers
would throw combustibles down the well, and suffocate them, if they
did not come out and submit to slaughter.
They urged upon Josephus that he was their leader; that they had
all followed his orders, and cast in their lot with his; and that
it would be treacherous and base, in the extreme, for him now to
save his life by going over to the Romans, when all the inferior
people had slain themselves, or had submitted to slaughter, rather
than beg their lives of the Romans. Josephus argued with them, at
length, but they were not convinced and, drawing their swords,
threatened to kill him, if he tried to leave them. They would all
die together, they said.
Josephus then proposed that, in order to avoid the sin of suicide,
they should draw lots which should kill each other. To this they
assented; and they continued to draw lots as to which should slay
the other, until only Josephus and one other remained alive.
This is the story that Josephus tells. He was, of course,
endeavoring to put his own case in the best light, and to endeavor
to prove that he was not--as the Jews universally regarded him--a
traitor to his country. It need hardly be said that the story is
improbable, in the extreme; and that, had any one of the forty men
survived and written the history, he would probably have told a
very different tale.
The conduct of Josephus, from the first outbreak of the trouble,
showed that he was entirely adverse to the rising against the
Romans. He himself, having been to Rome, had seen her power and
might; and had been received with great favor by Poppaea, the wife
of Nero, and had made many friends there. He had, therefore, at the
outset, opposed as far as he was able, without going so far as to
throw suspicion on his patriotism, the rebellion against the
Romans. During the events in Galilee, he had shown himself anxious
to keep in favor with the Romans. He had rebuked those who had
attacked the soldiers traveling as an escort, with a large amount
of treasure belonging to King Agrippa; and would have sent back the
spoils taken, had not the people risen against it. He affected
great indignation at the plunder of Agrippa's palace at Tiberias
and, gathering all he could of the spoils, had handed them over to
the care of the chief of Agrippa's friends there. He had protected
the two officers of Agrippa, whom the Jews would have killed--had
released and sent them back to the king; and when John of Gischala
wished to carry off large quantities of grain, stored by the Romans
in Upper Galilee, Josephus refused to allow him to do so, saying
that it should be kept for its owners.
It is almost certain that Josephus must, in some way, have entered
into communication with the Romans; for how otherwise could he,
with the principal inhabitants, have proposed to make their escape,
when every avenue was closed? Josephus was a man of great talent
and energy, full of resources, and of great personal bravery--at
least, if his own account of his conduct during the siege is to be
believed. But no one can read his labored excuses for his own
conduct without feeling sure that he had, all along, been in
correspondence with the Romans; and that he had, beforehand, been
assured that his life should be spared.
He had, from the first, despaired of successful resistance to the
Romans; and his conduct in throwing himself, at the last moment,
into a town about to be besieged and, as he must have known,
captured--for the want of water, alone, rendered its fall a mere
question of time--when his presence and leadership was so urgently
required among the people to whose command he had been appointed,
seems to prove that he wished to fall into their hands.
It would not be just to brand Josephus as a traitor. He had done
his best to induce the Galileans to form themselves into an army,
and to defend the province; and it was only when that army
dispersed, at the approach of the Romans, that he went to Jotapata.
It was his leadership that enabled that city to continue its heroic
defense. It cannot, therefore, be said that Josephus in any way
betrayed the trust confided to him by the council at Jerusalem. But
the conclusion can hardly be avoided that, from the first,
foreseeing that utter ruin and destruction would fall upon the
Jews, he had set himself to work to prepare a way of pardon and
escape, for himself; and that he thought a position of honor, among
the Romans, vastly preferable to an unknown grave among the
mountains of Galilee.
Upon being taken out of the well, Josephus was taken to Vespasian
and, in the presence only of the general, his son Titus, and two
other officers, announced that he was endowed with prophetic
powers, and that he was commissioned by God to tell Vespasian that
he would become emperor, and that he would be succeeded by his son
Titus. The prophecy was one that required no more penetration than
for any person, in the present day, to predict that the most rising
man in a great political party would one day become prime minister.
The emperor was hated, and it was morally certain that his fall
would not long be delayed; and in that case the most popular
general in the Roman army would, almost certainly, be chosen to
succeed him.
Vespasian, himself, was not greatly affected by the prophecy. But
Josephus declared that he had, all along, predicted the success of
the Romans, the fall of the town after forty-six days' siege, and
his own safety; and as some of the female captives were brought up
and, on Josephus appealing to them whether this was not so,
naturally replied in the affirmative, Josephus says that Vespasian
was then satisfied of his prisoner's divine mission, and henceforth
treated him with great honor.
It is much more easy to believe that an agreement already existed
between Vespasian and Josephus; and that the latter only got up
this story to enable him to maintain that he was not a traitor to
his country, but acting in accordance with the orders of God.
Certain it is that no similar act of clemency was shown, by
Vespasian, to any other Jew; that no other thought of pity or mercy
entered his mind, during the campaign, that he spared no man who
fell alive into his hands, and that no more ruthless and wholesale
extermination than that which he inflicted upon the people of
Palestine was ever carried out, by the most barbarous of
conquerors.
To this day, the memory of Josephus is hated among the Jews.