For a few days after the capture of the lower city, the Jews had a
respite. Titus knew that famine was sapping the strength of the
defenders, and that every day weakened their power of resistance.
He saw that the assault upon their strong position would be
attended with immense difficulty, and loss, and he was desirous of
saving the city from destruction. He ordered, therefore, a grand
review of the troops to take place; and for four days the great
army at his command--the splendid cavalry, the solid masses of the
Roman infantry, and the light-armed troops and cavalry of the
allies, defiled before him. The Jews from the height of the city
watched, with a feeling of dull despair, the tremendous power
assembled against them; and felt the hopelessness of further
resistance.
An intense desire for peace reigned, throughout the multitude, but
John of Gischala and Simon had no thought of yielding. They
believed that, whatever mercy Titus might be ready to grant to the
inhabitants of the town, for them and their followers there was no
hope, whatever, of pardon; and they were firmly resolved to resist
until the last. Titus, finding that no offers of submission came
from the city, sent Josephus to parley with the defenders.
He could not have made a worse choice of an ambassador. Divided as
the Jews were, among themselves, they were united in a common
hatred for the man whom they regarded as a traitor to his country;
and the harangue of Josephus, to the effect that resistance was
unavailing, and that they should submit themselves to the mercy of
Titus, was drowned by the execrations from the walls. In fact, in
no case could his words have reached any large number of the
inhabitants; for he had cautiously placed himself out of bow shot
of the walls, and his words could scarcely have reached those for
whom they had been intended, even if silence had been observed. His
mission, therefore, was altogether unavailing.
Illustration: Misery in Jerusalem During the Siege by Titus.
John felt his own resolution terribly shaken, by the sights which
he beheld in the city. The inhabitants moved about like specters,
or fell and died in the streets. He felt, now, that resistance had
been a mistake; and that it would have been far better to have
thrown open the gates, when Titus appeared before them--in which
case the great proportion, at least, of those within would have
been spared, and the Temple and the city itself would have escaped
destruction. He even regretted that he had marched down to take
part in the defense. Had he known how entirely exhausted were the
granaries, he would not have done so. He had thought that, at
least, there would have been sufficient provisions for a siege of
some months, and that the patience of the Romans might have been
worn out.
He felt, now, that the sacrifice had been a useless one; but
although he, himself, would now have raised his voice in favor of
surrender, he was powerless. Even his own men would not have
listened to his voice. Originally the most fervent and ardent
spirits of his band, they were now inspired by a feeling of
desperate enthusiasm, equal to that which animated Simon and John
of Gischala; and his authority would have been at once overthrown,
had he ventured to raise his voice in favor of surrender.
Already, he had once been made to feel that there were points as to
which his influence failed to have any effect, whatever. He had,
the morning after they retired to the upper city, spoken to his men
on the subject of their store of grain. He had urged on them the
horrors which were taking place before their eyes--that women and
children were expiring in thousands, and that the inhabitants were
suffering the extreme agonies of starvation--and had concluded by
proposing that their store should be distributed among the starving
women. His words had been received in silence, and then one of the
captains of the companies had risen.
"What you say, John, of the sufferings which the people are
undergoing is felt by us all; but I, for one, cannot agree to the
proposal that we should give up our store of food. Owing to the
number of us that have fallen, there are still well-nigh fifty
pounds a man left, which will keep us in health and strength for
another two months. Were we to give it out, it would not suffice
for a single meal, for a quarter of the people assembled here, and
would delay their death but a few hours; thus it would profit them
nothing, while it will enable us to maintain our strength--and
maybe, at a critical moment, to hurl back the Romans from the very
gates of the Temple.
"It would be wickedness, not charity, to part with our store. It
would defeat the object for which we came here, and for which we
are ready to die, without any real benefit to those on whom we
bestowed the food."
A general chorus of approval showed that the speaker represented
the opinion of his comrades. After a pause, he went on:
"There is another reason why we should keep what we, ourselves,
have brought in here. You know how the soldiers of Simon persecute
the people--how they torture them to discover hidden stores of
food, how they break in and rob them as they devour, in secret, the
provisions they have concealed. I know not whether hunger could
drive us to act likewise, but we know the lengths to which famished
men can be driven. Therefore, I would that we should be spared the
necessity for such cruelties, to keep life together. We are all
ready to die, but let it be as strong men, facing the enemy, and
slaying as we fall."
Again, the murmur of approval was heard; and John felt that it
would be worse than useless to urge the point. He admitted to
himself that there was reason in the argument; and that, while a
distribution of their food would give the most temporary relief,
only, to the multitude, it would impair the efficiency of the band.
The result showed him that, implicit as was the obedience given to
him in all military matters, his influence had its limits; and
that, beyond a certain point, his authority ceased.
Henceforth he remained in the house, except when he went to his
post on the walls immediately adjoining; and he therefore escaped
being harrowed by the sight of sufferings that he could not
relieve. Each day, however, he set apart the half of his own
portion of grain; and gave it to the first starving woman he met,
when he went out. The regulation issue of rations had now ceased.
The granaries were exhausted and, henceforth, Simon's troops lived
entirely upon the food they extorted from the inhabitants.
John of Gischala's followers fared better. Enormous as had been the
destruction of grain, the stores in the Temple were so prodigious
that they were enabled to live in comparative abundance, and so
maintained their strength and fighting power.
But the sufferings of the people increased daily, and great numbers
made their escape from the city--either sallying out from unguarded
posterns, at night; or letting themselves down from the lower part
of the walls, by ropes. Titus allowed them to pass through; but
John of Gischala and Simon, with purposeless cruelty, placed guards
on all the walls and gates, to prevent the starving people leaving
the city--although their true policy would have been to facilitate,
in every way, the escape of all save the fighting men; and thus to
husband what provisions still remained for the use of the defenders
of the city.
In the daytime, when the gates were open, people went out and
collected vegetables and herbs from the gardens between the walls
and the Roman posts; but on their return were pitilessly robbed by
the rough soldiers, who confiscated to their own use all that was
brought in. The efforts to escape formed a fresh pretext, to Simon
and John of Gischala, to plunder the wealthy inhabitants who, under
the charge of intending to fly to the Romans, were despoiled of all
they had, tortured and executed.
Titus soon changed his policy and, instead of allowing the
deserters to make their way through, seized them and those who went
out from the city to seek food, scourged, tortured, and crucified
them before the walls. Sometimes as many as five hundred were
crucified in a single day. This checked the desertion; and the
multitude, deeming it better to die of hunger than to be tortured
to death by the Romans, resigned themselves to the misery of
starvation.
For seventeen days, the Romans labored at their embankments, and
only one attack was made upon the walls. This was carried out by
the son of the King of Commagene, who had just joined the army with
a chosen band, armed and attired in the Macedonian fashion. As soon
as he arrived, he loudly expressed his surprise at the duration of
the siege. Titus, hearing this, told him that he was at perfect
liberty to assault the city, if he liked. This he and his men at
once did, and fought with great valor; but with no success
whatever, a great number of them being killed, and scarcely one
escaping uninjured.
For a fortnight, John had bestowed the half of his ration upon a
poor woman, whose child was sick; and who stood at the door of her
house, every morning, to wait his passing. One day, she begged him
to enter.
"I shall need no more food," she said. "Thanks to God, who sent you
to our aid, my child is recovered, and can now walk; and I intend
to fly, tonight, from this terrible place."
"But there is no escape," John said. "The soldiers allow none to
pass and, if you could pass through them, the Romans would slay
you."
"I can escape," the woman said, "and that is why I have called you
in.
"My husband--who was killed by Simon's robbers, three months
ago--was for many years employed in working in the underground
passages of the city, and in repairing the conduits which carry the
water from the springs. As I often carried down his food to him,
when he was at work, I know every winding and turn of the
underground ways.
"As you know, the ground beneath the city is honeycombed by
passages whence stone was, in the old time, obtained for buildings.
There are many houses which have entrance, by pits, into these
places. This is one of them, and my husband took it for that
convenience. From here, I can find my way down to the great conduit
which was built, by King Hezekiah, to bring the water from the
upper springs of the river Gihon down into the city. Some of these
waters supply the pool known as the Dragon Pool, but the main body
runs down the conduit in the line of the Tyropoeon Valley; and
those from the Temple could, in old times, go down and draw water,
thence, should the pools and cistern fail. But that entrance has
long been blocked up for, when the Temple was destroyed and the
people carried away captives, the ruins covered the entrance, and
none knew of it.
"My husband when at work once found a passage which ran, for some
distance, by the side of some massive masonry of old time. One of
the great stones was loose; and he prised it out, to see what might
lie behind it. When he did so he heard the sound of running water
and, passing through the hole, found himself in a great conduit.
This he afterwards followed up; and found that it terminated, at
the upper end of the Valley of Hinnom, in a round chamber, at the
bottom of which springs bubbled up. There was an entrance to this
chamber from without, through a passage. The outer exit of this was
well-nigh filled up with earth, and many bushes grew there; so that
none passing by would have an idea of its existence.
"When the troubles here became great, he took me and showed me the
conduit; and led me to the exit, saying that the time might come
when I might need to fly from Jerusalem. The exit lies far beyond
the camps that the Romans have planted on either side of the Valley
of Hinnom; and by going out at night, I and my child can make our
way, unseen, to the hills. Since you have saved our lives, I tell
you of this secret; which is known, I think, to none but myself
for, after showing me the place, my husband closed up the entrance
to the passage--which was, before, well-nigh filled up with stones.
"It may be that the time may come when you, too, will need to save
yourself by flight. Now, if you will come with me, I will show you
the way. See, I have mixed here a pot of charcoal and water, with
which we can mark the turnings and the passages; so that you will
afterwards be able to find your way for, without such aid, you
would never be able to follow the path, through its many windings,
after only once going through it."
John thanked the woman warmly for her offer, and they at once
prepared to descend into the pit. This was situated in a cellar
beneath the house; and was boarded over so that plunderers,
entering to search for provisions, would not discover it. Upon
entering the cellar, the woman lit two lamps.
"They are full of oil," she said, "and I have often been sorely
tempted to drink it; but I have kept it untouched, knowing that my
life might some day depend upon it."
Rough steps were cut in the side of the pit and, after descending
some thirty feet, John found himself in a long passage. The woman
led the way. As they went on, John was surprised at the number and
extent of these passages, which crossed each other in all
directions--sometimes opening into great chambers, from which large
quantities of stone had been taken--while he passed many shafts,
like that by which they had descended, to the surface above. The
woman led the way with an unfaltering step, which showed how
thorough was her acquaintance with the ground; pausing, when they
turned down a fresh passage, to make a smear at the corner of the
wall with the black liquid.
Presently, the passages began to descend rapidly.
"We are now under the Palace of King Agrippa," she said, "and are
descending by the side of the Tyropoeon Valley."
Presently, turning down a small side passage, they found their way
arrested by a pile of stones and rubbish. They clambered up this,
removed some of the upper stones, and crawled along underneath the
roof. The rubbish heap soon slanted down again, and they continued
their way, as before. Another turn, and they were in a wider
passage than those they had latterly traversed.
"This is the wall of the conduit," the woman said, touching the
massive masonry on her right hand. "The opening is a little further
on."
Presently they arrived at a great stone, lying across a passage,
corresponding in size to a gap in the wall on the right. They made
their way through this, and found themselves in the Conduit of King
Hezekiah. A stream of water, ankle deep, was running through it.
"We need not go further," the woman said. "Once here, you cannot
miss your way. It will take nigh an hour's walking through the
water before you arrive at the chamber of the springs, from which
there is but the one exit."
"I will come down again with you, tonight," John said, "and will
carry your child to the entrance. You will both need all your
strength, when you sally out; so as to get well beyond the Romans,
who are scattered all over the country, cutting wood for their
embankments. Moreover, I shall be able to see, as I come down with
you, whether all the marks are plainly visible, and that there is
no fear of mistake for, once lost in these passages, one would
never find one's way again; and there would be the choice between
dying of hunger, and of being found by the Romans--who will
assuredly search all these passages for fugitives, as they did at
Jotapata.
"Truly, I thank you with all my heart; I feel you have given me the
means of saving my life--that is, if I do not fall in the
fighting."
As they made their way back to the house, John examined the marks
at every turning, and added to those that were not sufficiently
conspicuous to catch the eye at once. When they had gained the
cellar, and replaced the boards, the woman said:
"Why should you not also leave the city, tonight? All say that
there is no hope of resistance; and that John of Gischala and Simon
are only bringing destruction, upon all in the city, by thus
holding out against the Romans. Why should you throw away your life
so uselessly?"
"I have come here to defend the Temple," John said, "and so long as
the Temple stands I will resist the enemy. It may be it is useless,
but no one can say what is the purpose of God, or whether He does
not yet intend to save his Holy Seat. But when the Temple has
fallen, I shall have no more to fight for; and will then, if I can,
save my life, for the sake of those who love me."
That evening, on his return from the wall, John proceeded to the
house of the woman. She was in readiness for the journey. The
child, who was seven or eight years old, was dressed; and the
mother had a little bundle with her valuables by her. As soon as
they descended into the passage below, John offered to carry the
child, but her mother refused.
"She can walk well," she said, "for a time, and you could not carry
her upon your shoulder; for the passages are, in many places, but
just high enough for you to pass under without stooping. At any
rate, she can walk for a time."
It was not long, however, before the child, weakened by its
illness, began to drag behind; and John swung her up on to his
back. The marks, he found, were easily made out; and in half an
hour they arrived at the entrance to the conduit. Here they were
forced to walk, slowly. In some places the water, owing to the
channel having sunk, deepened to the knee; at other times stones
had fallen from the roof, and impeded their passage; and it was
nearly two hours before they reached the arched chamber, at the
termination of the conduit. There was a stone pavement round the
edge of the pool, and upon this they sat down to rest, for an hour,
for both John and the woman were exhausted by the labor they had
undergone.
"It is time for me to be moving," the woman said, rising. "It must
be nigh midnight, and I must be some miles on my way before
morning. The child has walked but a short distance, yet; and will
do her best, now, when she knows that those wicked Romans will kill
her--and her mother--if they catch them.
"Won't you, Mariamne?"
The child nodded. The Romans were the bogey with which Jewish
children had, for the last five years, been frightened; and she
announced her intention of walking till her feet fell off.
"I will carry you, as much as I can," her mother said, "but it can
only be for a short distance at a time; for I, too, am weak, and
your weight is too much for me.
"And now, God bless you, my friend," she said, turning to John;
"and may He keep you safe through the dangers of the siege, and
lead you to your home and parents again!"
They made their way to the end of the passage together; climbed
over the rubbish, which nearly blocked the entrance; crawled
through the hole, and found themselves in the outer air. Thick low
bushes covered the ground around them, and no sound was to be
heard.
John rose to his feet, and looked round. Behind him, at the
distance of more than a quarter of a mile, the light of the Roman
watch fires showed where the legions were encamped. Beyond and
above could be seen, here and there, a light in the city. No sound
was to be heard, save the occasional call of a Roman sentinel. On
the other side, all was dark; for the working parties always
returned to camp, at night, in readiness to repel any sortie the
Jews might make against the camps or working parties.
"It is a very dark night," John said, doubtfully. "Do you think you
can find your way?"
"There are the stars," the woman replied, confidently. "Besides, I
was born at Bethlehem, and know the country well. I shall keep on
west for a while, and then turn off into the deep valleys leading
down towards Masada.
"God be with you!" and, taking the child's hand, she emerged from
the bushes, and glided noiselessly away into the darkness.
John set out on his return journey--which he found very much
shorter than he had done coming, for the weight of a child for two
hours, when walking over difficult ground, is trying even to a
strong and active man. He carefully replaced the boards across the
mouth of the pit, placed the lamps in a position so that he could
find them in the dark and, upon going out of the house, closed the
door carefully.
The next morning, that of the 29th of May, the Roman attack began.
The Fifth and Twelfth Legions had raised embankments near the
Struthion--or Soapwort--Pool, facing the Castle of Antonia; while
the Tenth and Fifteenth raised theirs facing the great towers of
Hippicus, Phasaelus, and Mariamne. They had not carried out their
work unmolested, for the Jews had now learned the art of
constructing and managing war machines; and had made three hundred
scorpions for throwing arrows, and forty ballistae for hurling
stones and, with these, they had caused terrible annoyance and
great loss to the Romans.
But now, all was prepared. On the evening of the 28th, the last
stroke had been given to the embankment; and on the following
morning the engines were mounted, and the troops stood in readiness
for the attack. Suddenly a smoke was seen, stealing up round the
embankments facing Antonia; and the Roman officers called back
their men, not knowing what was going to occur. Then a series of
mighty crashes was heard. The great embankments, with their engines
and battering rams, tottered and fell. Dense smoke shot up in
columns, followed rapidly by tongues of fire, and soon the vast
piles of materials, collected and put together with so much pains,
were blazing fiercely; while the Jews laughed, and shouted in
triumph, upon the walls.
The moment John of Gischala perceived where the Romans were going
to construct their embankments, he had begun to run a mine from
behind the walls towards them. When the gallery was extended under
them, a great excavation was hollowed out; the roof being supported
by huge beams, between which were piled up pitch and other
combustibles. When the Romans were seen advancing to the attack,
fire was applied and, as soon as the supports of the roof were
burned away, the ground, with the embankments upon it, fell in.
Simon, on his side, was equally ready to receive the enemy, but he
trusted rather to valour than stratagem; and as soon as the Roman
engines facing the towers began to shake the walls, Tepthaus,
Megassar, and Chagiras rushed out, with torches in their hands,
followed by a crowd of Simon's soldiers. They drove the Romans
before them, and set fire to the great machine.
The Romans crowded up to the assistance of the working parties but,
as they advanced, they were received with showers of missiles from
the walls; and attacked fiercely by the Jews, who poured out from
the city in a continuous stream. The flames spread rapidly and,
seeing no hope of saving their engines and embankments, the Romans
retreated to their camp. The triumphant Jews pressed hard on their
rear, rushed upon the intrenchments, and assailed the guards.
Numbers of these were killed, but the rest fought resolutely, while
the engines on the works poured showers of missiles among the Jews.
Careless of death, the assailants pressed forward, stormed the
intrenchment; and the Romans were on the point of flight when
Titus, who had been absent upon the other side, arrived with a
strong body of troops, and fell upon the Jews. A desperate contest
ensued, but the Jews were finally driven back into the city.
Their enterprise had, however, been crowned with complete success.
The embankments, which had occupied the Romans seventeen days in
building, were destroyed; and with them the battering rams, and the
greater part of their engines. The work of reconstruction would be
far more difficult and toilsome than at first, for the country had
been denuded of timber, for many miles off. Moreover, the soldiers
were becoming greatly disheartened by the failure of all their
attacks upon the city.
Titus summoned a council, and laid before them three plans: one for
an attempt to take the city by storm; the second to repair the
works and rebuild the engines; the third to blockade the city, and
starve it into surrender. The last was decided upon and, as a first
step, the whole army was set to work, to build a trench and wall
round the city. The work was carried on with the greatest zeal; and
in three days the wall, nearly five miles in circumference, was
completed. Thus there was no longer any chance of escape to the
inhabitants; no more possibility of going out, at night, to search
for food.
Now the misery of the siege was redoubled. Thousands died daily. A
mournful silence hung over the city. Some died in their houses,
some in the streets. Some crawled to the cemeteries, and expired
there. Some sat upon their housetops, with their eyes fixed upon
the Temple, until they sank back dead. No one had strength to dig
graves, and the dead bodies were thrown from the walls into the
ravines below.
The high priest Matthias, who had admitted Simon and his followers
into the city, was suspected of being in communication with the
Romans; and he and his three sons were led out on to the wall, and
executed in sight of the besiegers, while fifteen of the members of
the Sanhedrin were executed at the same time. These murders caused
indignation even on the part of some of Simon's men, and one Judas,
with ten others, agreed to deliver one of the towers to the enemy;
but the Romans--rendered cautious by the treachery which had before
been practised--hesitated to approach and, before they were
convinced that the offer was made in good faith, Simon discovered
what was going on, and the eleven conspirators were executed upon
the walls, and their bodies thrown over.
Despair drove many, again, to attempt desertion. Some of these, on
reaching the Roman lines, were spared; but many more were killed,
for the sake of the money supposed to be concealed upon them. Up to
the 1st of July, it was calculated that well-nigh six hundred
thousand had perished, in addition to the vast numbers buried in
the cemetery, and the great heaps of dead before the walls. Great
numbers of the houses had become tombs, the inhabitants shutting
themselves up, and dying quietly together.
But, while trusting chiefly to famine, the Romans had laboured
steadily on at their military engines--although obliged to fetch
the timber for ten miles--and, at the beginning of July, the
battering rams began to play against Antonia. The Jews sallied out,
but this time with less fury than usual; and they were repulsed
without much difficulty by the Romans. All day long the battering
rams thundered against the wall; while men, protected by hurdles
and penthouses, laboured to dislodge the stones at the foot of the
walls, in spite of the storm of missiles hurled down from above.
By nightfall, they had got out four large stones. It happened that
these stones stood just over the part under which John of Gischala
had driven his mine, when he destroyed the Roman embankments; and
thus, doubly weakened, the wall fell with a crash during the night.
John, however, had built another wall in the rear and, when the
Romans rushed to the assault of the breach, in the morning, they
found a new line of defence confronting them.
Titus addressed the troops, and called for volunteers. Sabinus, a
Syrian, volunteered for the attack, and eleven men followed him. In
spite of the storm of missiles he reached the top of the wall. The
Jews, believing that many were behind him, turned to fly; but his
foot slipped and he fell and, before he could regain his feet, the
Jews turned round upon him and slew him. Three of his companions
fell beside him, on the top of the wall; and the rest were carried
back, wounded, to camp.
Two days later, in the middle of the night, twenty Roman soldiers,
with a standard bearer and trumpeter, crept silently up to the
breach, surprised, and slew the watch. The trumpeter blew the
charge; and the Jews, believing that the whole Roman army was upon
them, fled in a sudden panic. Titus at once advanced with his men,
stormed the new wall, entered the Castle of Antonia, and then
advanced along the cloisters which connected it with the Temple;
but John of Gischala had by this time arrived at the spot, and
opposed a desperate resistance to the assault; until Simon,
crossing from the upper city by the bridge, came to his assistance;
and John, finding that the Temple was attacked, also led his band
across.
For ten hours, the struggle raged. Vast numbers fell, on both
sides; till the dead formed a bank between the combatants. Titus,
finding that even the courage and discipline of his troops did not
avail, against the desperate resistance of the Jews, at last called
them off from the assault--well satisfied with having captured
Antonia.
During the fight the Romans had, several times, nearly penetrated
into the Temple. Indeed, a centurion named Julian--a man of great
strength, courage, and skill at arms--had charged the Jews with
such fury that he had made his way, alone, as far as the inner
court; when his mailed shoes slipped on the marble pavement, and he
fell; and the Jews, rushing back, slew him--after a desperate
resistance, to the end.
Titus commanded that the fortress of Antonia should be levelled to
the ground; and then sent Josephus with a message to John of
Gischala, offering him free egress for himself and his men, if he
would come out to fight outside, in order that the Temple might be
saved further defilement. John replied by curses upon Josephus,
whom he denounced as a traitor; and concluded that he feared not
that the city should be taken, for it was the city of God. Then
Titus sent for a number of persons of distinction who had, from
time to time, made their escape from the city; and these attempted,
in vain, to persuade the people--if not to surrender--at least to
spare the Temple from defilement and ruin. Even the Roman soldiers
were adverse to an attack upon a place so long regarded as
pre-eminently holy, and Titus himself harangued the Jews.
"You have put up a barrier," he said, "to prevent strangers from
polluting your Temple. This the Romans have always respected. We
have allowed you to put to death all who violated its precincts;
yet you defile it, yourselves, with blood and carnage. I call on
your gods--I call on my whole army--I call upon the Jews who are
with me--I call on yourselves--to witness that I do not force you
to this crime. Come forth and fight, in any other place, and no
Roman shall violate your sacred edifice."
But John of Gischala, and the Zealots, would hear of no surrender.
They doubted whether Titus would keep his promise, and feared to
surrender the stronghold which was now their last hope. Above all,
they still believed that God would yet interfere to save his
Temple.
Titus, finding that the garrison were obstinate, raised his voice
and called out:
"John--whom I met near Hebron--if you be there, bear witness that I
have striven to keep my oath. I will strive to the end; but blame
me not if, not through my fault, but by the obstinacy of these men,
destruction comes upon the Temple."
John, who was standing within hearing, called out:
"I am here, Titus, and I bear witness; yet, I pray you, strive to
the end to keep the oath which you swore to me."
"What is this oath, John?" Simon, who was standing close by, asked.
"What compact have you with the Roman general?"
"We met in battle, alone," John said, quietly, "and it chanced that
he fell. I might have slain him, but it came to me that it were
better to try to save the Temple, than to slay one of its enemies;
and therefore swore him to save the Temple, if it lay in his power.
He has offered to spare it. It lay with you, and John of Gischala,
to save the Temple from destruction by accepting his terms. You
have not done so. If the Temple is destroyed, it is by the
obstinacy of its defenders, not by the cruelty of the Romans."
"It would be madness to accept his offer," Simon said, angrily.
"Titus knows well that, in the plains, we should be no match for
his troops. Did you ever hear, before, of a garrison giving up a
position so strong that it could not be taken from them, and going
out to fight beyond the walls? Besides, who can tell that the
Romans will keep their promises? Once we are at their mercy, they
might level the Temple."
"In that case, the sin would be upon their heads. Besides, there is
no occasion to retire beyond the walls. Why should not all the
fighting men retire into the upper city, and leave the Temple to
God? If it is his will that the Romans should destroy it, they will
do so. If it is his will that they should respect it, they will do
so. He can save, or destroy, at his will. If we retreat to the
upper town, and break down the bridge after us, they could never
take it."
"And how long could we hold out?" Simon said, with a hard laugh.
"Is there a day's food left, in the city? If there is, my men are
less sharp than I give them credit for. No, we will fight here, to
the end, for the Temple; and the sooner the Romans attack, the
better, for if they delay many days, there is not a single man will
have strength enough to lift a sword."