Although John was able to join his companions, he was still far
from strong; and was glad to have a valid excuse for handing over
his command to his lieutenant, and returning home. The campaign was
nearly over; and he could not have followed those rapid marches
through the hills which enabled the band to appear, now on one
side, now on the other of the Romans, and to keep them in a
constant state of watchfulness.
At the same time, he was glad of the excuse to leave for, although
he had declared to Titus that he would fight again in defense of
Jerusalem, he felt that, after the kind treatment he had met with,
he could not take part in the daily skirmishes with the Romans.
Mounting a donkey, which was among the many animals captured in the
attacks upon the Romans' baggage train, John bade adieu to his
comrades; and with Jonas, now grown into a sturdy young fellow,
started for home. He journeyed by the road to the west of
Jerusalem, in order to avoid the bandits of Simon son of Gioras;
who still scourged the neighborhood of Masada and Herodium, lying
between Jerusalem and the Dead Sea. He avoided all the towns in
which there were Roman garrisons; for the bandages on his head
would have shown, at once, that he had been engaged in fighting. He
traveled slowly, and was six days before he arrived home.
"This time, my son, you have not come home unharmed," Simon said.
"Truly you are a shadow of your former self."
"I shall soon be strong again, father; and these are honorable
scars, for I had them in single combat with Titus, himself, in the
valley between Hebron and Carmelia."
"Then how is it that you live to tell the tale, my son?" Simon
asked, while exclamations of wonder broke from Mary and Martha.
"Surely God did not deliver him into your hands?"
"I wish not to boast, father, and I have told the true story to
none; but truly God did deliver him into my hands."
"And he is dead?" Simon exclaimed.
"No, father, he lives, for I spared him."
"Spared him!" Simon exclaimed. "What, you did not avenge the
miseries of our people upon the son of the oppressor?"
"No, father; and I rejoice that I did not for, had I done so,
surely the Romans would have avenged his death upon all the land.
But I thought not of that, at the time. I was sore wounded, and
bleeding, and my sense was well-nigh gone; but as I knelt upon him,
and lifted my hand to slay him, a thought--surely sent by God,
himself--came into my mind, and I said:
"'Swear by your gods that you will spare the Temple, or I slay
you;' and he swore that, so far as lay in his power, he would spare
the Temple."
An exclamation of joy burst from his hearers, and Simon said:
"Verily, my son, God has raised you up as a deliverer of his
Temple; not, as some hoped, by defeating our oppressors, but by
binding one of their mightiest ones to do it no harm."
"I pray, father, say naught of this to anyone. It is between
ourselves, and Titus, and the Lord; and I would not that any man
should know of it. Moreover, Titus behaved with the greatest
generosity to me.
"My victory over him was but a surprise. I was sorely wounded,
while he was almost unharmed, when I sprang upon him and, by the
sudden impulse, threw him to the ground, he being burdened with his
heavy armor I had but strength to hear him swear, and then I fell
as one dead. Titus might have slain me, as I lay; but he not only
did me no harm but, when his soldiers came up, he gave me into
their care, and directed me to be carried down to his camp, placed
in a tent, and tended by his own leech and, when I recovered, he
let me go free."
"Truly it is a marvelous tale, John. That you should have fallen
into the hands of the Romans, and come forth unharmed after
discomfiting their leader, is as marvelous to me as Daniel coming
unharmed from the lions' den. We will say naught of your story, my
son. Tell us only what you told your own companions, so that we may
know what to say, when we are questioned."
"I told them the truth, father, although not all the truth. I said
that I met Titus, and fought with him; that I wounded him somewhat;
but that, by virtue of his armor, I did him no great harm, while he
wounded me so seriously that I fell down as one dead; that he,
feeling that I had fought like a brave foeman, had me carried to
his tent, and tended and cared for until I was able to go forth;
when he sent me away free, and unharmed."
"Truly men say of Titus that he is clement and merciful, and
therein differs much from Vespasian his father; and the clemency
which he showed to the people of Gischala, and other places which
he has taken, proves that is so; but this deed of his to you shows
that he must have a great heart, for few men of rank, and warlike
fame, who had been discomfited by one yet scarce a man, but would
have left him by the road to die, so that none might know what had
happened."
"Titus made no secret of it, father," John said. "He told Josephus,
in my hearing, that I had spared his life. He said naught of the
oath which he had taken; but I know that he will keep it as far, as
he said, lies in his power."
"What is he like?" Mary asked.
"He is not of very tall stature, but stoutly built, and strong. His
face--clean shaved, as is their custom--has a pleasant and kindly
expression, that tallies with his disposition, for he is greatly
beloved by his soldiers. In action they say he is brave to
rashness, quick to anger, but as quickly appeased. Had he been in
command of the Roman legions, they would have been not less
formidable in the fight and, perhaps, when the passions of Titus
were roused, not less savage; but they would not have wrought such
wholesale cruelty and destruction as they have done."
"It is rarely that pity enters into the heart of a Roman," Simon
said; "and yet, it is hardly for us to complain for, when we
crossed over the Jordan and conquered Canaan, we put all to the
sword, and spared none. It may be that in future times, if wars do
not altogether cease in the world, they will be waged in another
spirit; but so far, from the commencement of the world until now,
it has ever been the same--war has brought desolation and
destruction upon the vanquished."
The next morning John went early into the garden; not that he was
strong enough for heavy work, but in order that Mary might, as
usual, join him there.
"Do you know, John," she said, after their first greeting, "you
have made me happier than I have been, for some time."
"How is that, Mary?"
"It seemed to me, John, that you were getting away from me."
"Getting away, Mary!" he repeated; "how do you mean?"
"You were becoming a great leader, John. I was proud that it should
be so, proud to think that you might become a deliverer of the
nation; and then it would have been meet and right that you should
take to yourself, as a wife, a daughter of one of the great ones of
the land."
"Mary!" John exclaimed, indignantly.
"It might have been necessary, John. The tillers of the soil can
marry where they please. Those who have power must wed for other
reasons than that of love. They must make alliances that will
strengthen their position, and it would have been your duty to have
sacrificed your love for the sake of your country. I should have
been the first to bid you do so. I should have been content to make
my sacrifice, too, on the altar of our country; content with
knowing that you, the deliverer of Israel, would have chosen me
from among all other women, had you only had your own pleasure and
happiness to consult.
"But after what you told us yesterday, I think, perhaps, that this
need not be so; and that the way in which you were to save the
Temple was not the way we thought. Your mission has been
fulfilled--not by great victories, which would have made you the
hero of Israel--but in that contest in the valley, where no eyes
but those of God beheld you; and should the Temple be saved, no one
will know that you were its savior, save we who love you.
Therefore, John, once again I can look forward to the time when you
and I can dwell, together, in the house of your fathers."
Mary was so earnest that John did not attempt to laugh her out of
her fancies, as was his usual way. He only said, quietly:
"Perhaps you are right, Mary, as to my mission; but I do not think,
dear, that even had I been made ruler of Israel, I would have gone
elsewhere for a wife; but as you say, circumstances might have been
too strong for me and, at any rate, I am well pleased that there is
no chance of my happiness being set in one scale, and the good of
my country in another."
"And now, John, I believe that you will come back to me, even if
Jerusalem falls. This is the third time your life has been spared
and, if we count that day when we were so nearly drowned together
on the lake, we may say that four times your life has been saved,
when it seemed all but lost; and I believe, now, that it will be
saved to the end."
"I hope for your sake, Mary, and for my father and mother's, that
it may be so. I have so much to make my life happy that I will
assuredly do all in my power to save it. As you know, I have never
held with those who would destroy themselves, when all seemed lost.
My idea is: a man should fight until the last; but should, if
possible, provide some way of escape, when fighting is no longer of
avail.
"Fortunately, if I do not fall in battle, I have a talisman which
will bring me safe to you. Titus has given me a signet ring which
will, at all times, procure me access to him. He has promised that,
at all times, he will be my friend and, should I fall into the
hands of his soldiers again, he will let me go free, and will give
me the lives of any who may be dear to me."
"This Titus must be a noble enemy," Mary said, with tears in her
eyes. "He is strong, and kind, and generous. Had such a man been
raised up as the leader of our people, instead of the leader of our
foes, how different it might have been!"
"Yes, indeed," John agreed; "truly we are sheep without a shepherd;
nay, we are sheep whose leaders are ravening wolves, who devour
their own flock."
The time passed, quietly and happily save for the grief which the
tidings of the terrible doings in Jerusalem caused. The two years'
respite which the city had obtained, when Vespasian marched away
from Jericho, instead of being turned to good account, had brought
even greater evils than before. Simon son of Gioras, having wasted
all the country towards Idumea, began to threaten Jerusalem. The
Zealots marched out against him, but were driven back to the city.
Simon--thinking that the Idumeans, believing him to be occupied
with Jerusalem, would have grown careless--suddenly entered their
country at the head of twenty thousand men.
The Idumeans flew to arms, and met him with twenty-five thousand
men; and a furious battle ensued, in which neither party gained the
advantage. Simon retreated, and the Idumeans dispersed. Simon
raised an even larger force than before, and advanced with forty
thousand irregular troops, besides his heavy-armed soldiers. They
took Hebron, and wasted Idumea with fire and sword.
The Zealots, in Simon's absence, succeeded in capturing his wife;
and carried her off to Jerusalem, hoping by this means to force him
to come to terms. On receiving the news he hurried back with his
forces, surrounded Jerusalem, and slew everyone who ventured to
leave the city--except some whom he sent back, having cut off their
hands, to tell those within that, unless his wife were returned, he
would storm the city and slay every man within it. Even the Zealots
were alarmed at his threats and fury, and restored his wife;
whereupon he withdrew.
This had happened in the previous year, before Cerealis and
Vespasian had entered Idumea. As soon as the Romans had retired,
Simon again sallied forth from Masada, collected a great number of
Idumeans, and drove them before him into Jerusalem. Then he
encamped before the city, and slew all who quitted the protection
of its walls.
Thus, within, John of Gischala and his followers tyrannized over
the people, murdering and plundering till they were sated with
blood, and knew not what to do with their booty; while Simon cut
off all flight beyond its walls. But at length the party of John
became divided. The Idumeans, who were in considerable numbers in
the city, rose and drove John and the Zealots into the palace built
by Grapte; which had served them as their headquarters, and the
storehouse where they piled up the treasure which they had amassed
by the plunder of the people. But the Idumeans attacked them here,
and drove them into the Temple--which adjoined the palace--and took
possession of all the plunder that they had amassed. The Zealots,
however, were in great force in the Temple, and threatened to pour
out and destroy the whole city by fire. The Idumeans called an
assembly of the chief priests, and they decided to admit Simon
within the gates.
The high priest, Matthias, went out in person to invite him to
enter and, amidst the joyful greetings of the population, Simon
marched through the gates with his followers, and took possession
of the upper city. This was the last and most fatal mistake of the
people of Jerusalem. The sheep had invited a tiger to save them
from a wolf; and now two tyrants, instead of one, lorded it over
the city. As soon as Simon entered, he proceeded to attack the
Zealots in the Temple; but the commanding position of that building
enabled them to defend themselves with success.
To obtain still further advantage, they reared four strong towers;
and on these placed their military engines and bowmen, and so swept
the approaches to the Temple that Simon was forced to desist from
the attack. All through the winter, fighting went on without
intermission, and the streets of Jerusalem ran with blood.
A further division took place among the Zealots. Eleazar--who had
been their head before the arrival of John of Gischala--jealous of
the supremacy of that leader, got together a party and suddenly
seceded from the main band, and seized the inner court of the
Temple. Now, fighting went on within as well as without the holy
buildings. The party of Eleazar were well supplied with provisions,
for the stores in the Temple were of immense extent. They were too
few in numbers to sally out to attack the party of John; but they
were strong enough to defend the walls of the inner court, which
looked down upon the rest of the Temple, and enabled them to
command the positions of John's troops.
Day and night the struggle went on. The inner court of the Temple
was desecrated by blood--dying men lay on the steps of the altar,
and the shouts and songs of the savage soldiery rose, where the
hymns of praise of the Levites had been wont to ascend.
John's troops continued their attacks upon the inner court, while
they successfully resisted the assaults of Simon; who tried to take
advantage of the internecine strife raging between the two parties
of Zealots, but the superior height of the positions held by John's
men enabled them to defend themselves as successfully as did those
of Eleazar against their attacks.
And yet, during all this terrible strife, the services of the
Temple were continued, in the midst of blood and carnage. Free
ingress and egress were, as at all times, permitted to the pious;
who made their way unharmed through the fierce combatants, passed
over the pavement slippery with blood, and laid their offering on
the altars--often paying with their lives for their pious services,
being smitten down, even as they prayed at the altar, by the
missiles which the followers of John poured incessantly into the
inner court.
Sometimes, drunk with the wine obtained from the abundant stores of
the Temple, the followers of Eleazar would sally out against John.
Sometimes John would pour out against Simon, wasting and destroying
the city as far as his troops could penetrate. Thus, the Temple
became surrounded by a waste of ruins, held in turn by one or other
of the factions. Even the rites of burial, so dear to the Jews,
were neglected; and the bodies of the slain lay, unburied, where
they fell, And yet, the forces of the three factions which thus
desolated the city were comparatively small and, had the wretched
population who were tyrannized over by them possessed any
unanimity, or been led by any man of courage, they could easily
have overthrown them all; for Simon's force amounted to about
fifteen thousand, that of John to six thousand, while Eleazar could
count but two thousand four hundred men, and yet in Jerusalem were
gathered a population amounting, with the original inhabitants and
the fugitives from the country around, to over a million people.
At length, the long interval of suspense was drawing to an end. At
the death of Vitellius, Vespasian had been called upon, by the
general voice of the people, to ascend the throne; and had, some
time before, left for Rome to assume the imperial purple. He was
joyfully acknowledged by the whole Roman empire; who had groaned
under a succession of brutal tyrants, and now hailed the accession
of one who was, at once, a great general and an upright and able
man; and who would rule the empire with a firm, just, and moderate
hand. When winter was over, Vespasian sent Titus--who had, in the
meantime, gone to Egypt--back to Palestine, and ordered him to
complete the conquest of Judea.
The Twelfth Legion--that which had been defeated, when under the
command of Cestius--was ordered to reinforce the three already in
Judea; and the gaps made in the ranks during the war, and by the
withdrawal of the men who had accompanied Vespasian to Rome, were
filled by an addition of two thousand picked troops from
Alexandria, and three thousand from the legions stationed on the
Euphrates. The Syrian kings sent large contingents; and Tiberius
Alexander--an intimate friend of Titus, a man of wisdom and
integrity--was appointed to high command. His knowledge of the
country, which he had once governed, added to his value in the
Roman councils.
As soon as the news spread that the Roman army was collecting for
its march against Jerusalem, the signal fires were kindled on the
hills above Gamala; and John, after a tender farewell to his
parents and Mary, set out with Jonas. In twenty-four hours, the
band had again assembled. When they were gathered, John addressed
them. He pointed out to them that the campaign that they were now
about to undertake differed widely from those which had preceded
it.
"Hitherto," he said "you have but skirmished around the Romans, and
have run but comparatively little danger; but now, those who go
with me must make up their minds that they are going to Jerusalem
to die. It may be that the Lord will yet deliver the Holy City from
her enemies, as he delivered it in days of old. But you know what
has been doing in Jerusalem, for the last four years; that not only
the streets, but the altar itself have been flooded with the blood
of the people, how the Jews themselves have desecrated the Temple,
and how wickedness of all kinds has prevailed in the city.
"Thus, you can judge for yourselves what chance there is that God
will interfere on behalf of the people who have forsaken and
insulted him. If he does not interfere, in my opinion the fate of
the city is sealed. I have seen the Romans at work, at Jotapata and
Gamala; and I know how the strongest walls go down before their
engines and battering rams. Moreover I hear that, in the wars which
have been raging within the gates, the magazines--which contain
sufficient food to last even her great population for years--have
been entirely destroyed; and thus those who go to defend her have
to face not the Roman sword only, but famine.
"Therefore, I say that those who go up to defend the Temple must
make up their minds that they go to die for the Temple. It is for
each of you to ask yourselves whether you are ready to do this. I
ask no one to go with me. Let each, before it is too late, ask
himself whether he is ready to do this thing. I blame none who find
the sacrifice too great. It is between them and their conscience.
"Therefore, I pray you, let all tonight disperse among the hills,
each by himself, so that you may think over what I have said; and
let all who may come to the conclusion that they are not called
upon to go to certain death, in defense of the Temple, depart to
their homes without reproach from their comrades. Each man here has
done his duty, so long as hope remained. Now it is for each to
decide, for himself, whether he feels called upon to give his life
for the Temple."
Silently the crowd dispersed, and John joined the captains, and
passed the night with them.
"I fear we shall have but a small gathering in the morning," one of
them said, as they sat down by the fire. "Many will fight as long
as there is hope, but few will go down to certain death."
"It is better so," John said. "Misery and ruin have fallen upon the
country. As you saw for yourselves, Judea and Idumea are but
deserts, and more have fallen by famine and misery than by the
sword. We would not have our nation blotted out; and as, in the
days after the captivity in Babylon, God again collected his people
and restored their land to them, so it may be his intention to do,
now, when they have paid the full penalty of their disobedience and
wickedness. Therefore, I would not that any should go down to die,
save those who feel that God has called them to do so.
"Already the victims who have fallen in these four years are
well-nigh countless; and in Jerusalem there are a million
people--sufficient, if they have spirit and strength and the Lord
is with them--to defend the walls. Thus, then, however small the
number of those who may gather tomorrow, I shall be content. Had
the Romans advanced against Jerusalem at the commencement of the
war, there was not a Jew capable of bearing arms but would have
gone up to the defense of the Holy City; but now, their spirit is
broken by the woes that have come upon them, and still more by the
civil wars in Jerusalem herself. A spirit of hopelessness and
despair has come upon us. It is not that men fear to die, or that
they care to live; it is that they say:
"'What matters it whether we live or die? All is lost. Why should
we trouble as to what may come upon us?'"
"Then you no longer believe in your mission, John?" one of the
party said, gloomily.
"I have never proclaimed a mission," John said. "Others have
proclaimed it for me. I simply invited a score of men to follow me,
to do what we could to hinder the Romans; and because God gave us
success, others believed that I was sent as a deliverer.
"And yet, I believe that I had a mission, and that mission has been
fulfilled. I told you not, before; but I tell you now, for your
comfort, what happened between me and Titus--but I wish not that it
should be told to others. I told you that I fought with him; and
that, being wounded and insensible, I was carried into his
tent--but that was not all. When we fought, although sorely
wounded, I sprang upon him and we fell to the ground, I uppermost.
I drew my knife, and would have slain him; when the Lord put a
thought into my mind, and I called upon him to swear that he would
spare the Temple.
"He swore that, if it lay in his power, he would do so. Then he was
but in inferior command. Now he is general of the army, and should
be able to keep his oath. Thus, if I had a mission to save the
Temple, I trust that I have fulfilled it; and that, whatever fate
may fall upon the city, the Temple will yet remain erect and
unharmed."
John's words gave new life and energy to the before dispirited men
gathered round him. It seemed to them not only that the Temple
would be saved, but that their belief in their leader's mission as
a deliverer was fully justified; and a feeling of enthusiasm
succeeded that of depression.
"Why did you not tell us before? Why did you not let all your
followers know what a great thing you had done, John?" one of them
asked, presently.
"For two reasons," John replied. "I did not wish to seem to exalt
myself, or to boast of the success which God had given me over the
Roman; for it was assuredly his strength, and not mine, for I
myself could do naught against the strength and skill of Titus and,
as I told you, was wounded nigh to death, while he received small
hurt. In the next place I thought that, if I made it public, it
would be noised abroad through the land; and that Titus, when he
heard that all men knew that he had been worsted in fight with a
Jew, might repent of his oath--or might even ask to be sent to some
other command, so that he might not be called upon to keep it."
John's companions agreed that the second reason was a valid one,
though they did not agree that the first should have weighed with
him.
"It is not by hiding a light under a bushel," one of them said,
"that men gain the confidence of their followers. The more men
believe in their leaders, the more blindly will they follow him,
the greater the efforts they will make for him. It was the belief
in your mission which gathered eight thousand men on these
mountains to follow you; and the proof that you have given us that
that belief was well founded, and that you had a mission to save
the Temple--the knowledge that you had, single handed, forced the
Roman general to swear an oath to save the Temple--would have so
heightened that enthusiasm that they would have followed you, had
you bidden them attack the whole Roman army. I agree that, for your
second reason, it was wise to say nothing of what took place; but
your first was, I think, a mistaken one."
"At any rate," another said, "the hand of God is plainly marked in
the matter; for it has placed Titus in full command, and has thus
given him the power of carrying out the oath which he swore. Now,
my friends, we can go up with light hearts with John to Jerusalem
for, though we may die, yet do we feel assured that the Lord
purposes to save the Temple; and that, one day, he will restore the
glories of Judah."
In the morning, as John had expected, the number of those who
gathered at the sound of the trumpet was comparatively small. The
night's reflection, the feeling that the sacrifice of their lives
would be of no avail, and the dull despair that had seized the
whole nation had had their effect and, of the eight thousand men
who had gathered there the night before, but six hundred now obeyed
the summons.
These gathered, stern and silent, but with an expression of
desperate resolution on their faces. At the earnest request of his
captains, John allowed them to go among the men and to tell them
that, although the manner in which it was done was a secret, John
had given to them undoubted proofs that he had a mission from God;
and that they believed that, whatever might happen to Jerusalem, it
was the Lord's will that the Temple should be saved. The joyous
expression of their leaders' faces, even more than their words,
assured their followers of their sincerity. Their spirit rose, and
a renewed feeling of enthusiasm seized them; and when, an hour
later, John took his place on a rock to address them, the shouts of
greeting which broke forth showed him how great was the change in
their spirit.
"My friends," he said, "I greet you who have decided to die with
me, if need be, in defense of Jerusalem. I blame not those who have
gone. They would not have gone, had the Lord required them to stay;
but to you he has spoken, and has told you that he has need of your
services. Henceforward, we will act as one band--a band of men
inspired with one thought, and one aim. And now, though our numbers
may not be great, yet a force so composed of men who hold their
lives as naught may do wonders. You remember how Gideon sent the
greater part of his army away and, with a mere handful, defeated
the hosts of the enemy!
"We look not for victory; but we will show the Romans what men can
do to avenge their bleeding country--what deeds Jews can perform,
when fighting for the Temple. We shall go into Jerusalem. There we
will hold aloof from all parties. If we are attacked, we will
defend ourselves. But our aim will be to act as a body apart from
others, ready to undertake the most desperate services, and to set
an example of courage and devotion.
"Now let us count our numbers, and arrange ourselves anew into
companies."
It was found that the bands composed of men from Tiberias, and the
other cities of the lake, had entirely disappeared; and that those
who had stayed were principally hardy dwellers among the hills.
They were again divided into twenty companies of thirty men each
and, after examining their arms, and seeing that all were well
provided, John gave the order, and the band set off.
Keeping on the eastern side of Jordan they stopped at a large
village, near the ford opposite Jericho; and here a quantity of
grain was purchased, and was made up into sacks, each weighing
fifty pounds.
"The granaries that remain will be principally in the hands of the
troops of John, or Simon," John said; "and it is as well that we
should have our own store to depend upon. So long as we can buy
food, we will do so; and we can fall back upon our own magazine, if
necessary. It will be best for two or three of us to go into the
city, first, and find a quarter where we can lodge close together,
and as far removed as possible from the factions. Simon holds the
upper town, and John the Temple; therefore we will establish
ourselves in the lower town. We will not go in in a body, for they
might refuse us admittance; but as the Romans approach there will
be a stream of fugitives entering the city. We will mingle with
them, and pass in unobserved.
"Many of the fugitives will be carrying the goods they most value;
and many, doubtless, will take in provisions with them. Therefore,
our sacks of grain will not excite attention."
It was five years since John had journeyed up with his parents to
Jerusalem, and he therefore knew but little of the city. Some of
his followers, however, had been there more recently; and he picked
out four of these, one of whom was a captain of a company, to enter
the city and find a suitable post for them. The whole band crossed
the Jordan together, and made a detour to avoid Jericho, where the
Tenth Legion had been quartered during the winter. Then they took
their way up the steep road through the hills until, passing
through Bethany, they came out on the crest of the hill looking
down upon the Valley of Jehoshaphat; with the Temple rising
immediately opposite to them, and the palace of Agrippa, and the
crowded houses of the city, in the background.
Illustration: John and his Band in Sight of Jerusalem.
The men laid down their sacks, and stood for a long time, looking
at Jerusalem. Many were moved to tears, as they looked on the
stately beauty of the Holy City, and thought how low it had fallen;
with civil tumult within, and a terrible enemy approaching from
without. Even now, there is no fairer scene in the world than the
view of Jerusalem from the spot where they were standing--called
then, as now, the Mount of Olives--and it must have been superb,
indeed, in the days when the Temple stood intact, and the palaces
of Agrippa and Herod rose on the brow of Mount Zion.
After a long pause they resumed their way, crossed the upper end of
the Valley of Jehoshaphat, and established themselves for the night
in a grove of trees near the Grotto of Jeremiah; four chosen men at
once entering the city, by the Old Gate on the north side of the
city. The country here--and indeed, all the hills around
Jerusalem--were covered with the houses of the wealthy, surrounded
by gardens and orchards. They belonged not only to the Jews of the
city; but to those who dwelt in foreign countries, and who were
accustomed each year to come to Jerusalem for the Passover, and to
spend some time there before they returned to their distant homes.
Even now, undismayed by the dangers of the times, and the knowledge
that the Romans would shortly besiege the city, pilgrims were
arriving from all the cities of Asia Minor, Greece, and Egypt, for
the time of the Passover was close at hand.
At the foot of the walls, and on the slopes around, large numbers
of pilgrims were encamped--the rich in gorgeous tents, the poor in
shelters constructed of boughs or carpets. This overflow of people
was an occurrence which was witnessed every year, on the same
occasion; but its proportions were this time of greater magnitude
than usual, partly owing to the difficulty of procuring lodgings in
the town, owing to the crowds of fugitives there, partly because
many thought it safer to camp outside, and to enter the city only
to pay their devotions, and take part in the ceremonial, than to
put themselves wholly into the power of the ruffians of Simon and
John.
In the following morning the men returned, and reported that they
had found a spot in the inner lower town, between the Corner Gate
and the Gate of Ephraim in the second wall, where was a large
house, inhabited now but by two or three persons. Here a great
number of them could take up their quarters, while the others could
find lodging near. The reason why so many houses were empty there
was that it was somewhat exposed to the irruptions of Simon's men
from the upper town, as they frequently came down and robbed those
who entered the city at the Damascus Gate, from which led the great
north road.
Crowds of fugitives were making their way by this road to the city,
flying before the advance of the Romans; who were, they said, but a
few hours' march in their rear. Many were men, coming to take their
part in the defense of the city; but the great proportion were old
men, women, and children, flying for refuge. John shook his head,
as he watched the stream of fugitives, for he well knew the horrors
that would befall the besieged town.
"Better a thousand times," he said to Jonas, "that these poor
people should have remained in their villages. They have nothing
which would tempt the cupidity of the Roman soldiers, and no evil
might have befallen them; whereas now they will perish by famine or
disease, or be slain by the Romans, besides consuming the food
which would have sustained the fighting men. Were I master of
Jerusalem I would, when I heard the Romans were approaching, have
cleared out from the city all who could not aid in the defense. It
would have seemed a harsh action; but it would have been a merciful
one, and would greatly strengthen the power of resistance."