Although abhorring the general conduct of Simon and John of
Gischala, and believing that conditions could be made with the
Romans which would save the Temple, John still retained the
hope--cherished by every Jew--that God would yet, himself, save
Jerusalem, as in the old times. He was conscious that the people
had forfeited all right to expect his aid; that, by their
wickedness and forgetfulness of him--and more especially by the
frightful scenes which had desecrated the city and Temple, during
the last four years--they must have angered God beyond all hope of
forgiveness. Still, the punishment which had been inflicted was
already so terrible that he, like others, hoped that God's anger
might yet relent, as it had done in old times, and that a remnant
might yet be spared.
But above all, their hope lay in the belief that the Temple was the
actual abode of the Lord; and that, though he might suffer the
whole people to perish for their sins, he would yet protect, at the
last, his own sanctuary. Surely, John thought, as he stood on the
roof of the Temple, this glorious building can never be meant to be
destroyed.
The Temple occupied a square, six hundred feet every way. The lofty
rock on which it stood had been cased with solid masonry, so that
it rose perpendicularly from the plain. On the top of this massive
foundation was built a strong and lofty wall, round the whole area.
Within this wall was a spacious double cloister, fifty-two and one
half feet broad, supported by one hundred and sixty-two columns. On
the south side the cloister was one hundred and five feet
wide--being a triple cloister--and was here called the King's
Cloister. Within the area surrounded by the cloisters was an open
court, paved with marble; this was the Court of the Gentiles, and
was separated from the second court--that of the Jews--by a stone
railing, five feet high.
An ascent of fourteen steps led to a terrace, seventeen and one
half feet wide, beyond which rose the wall of the inner court. This
wall was seventy feet high on the outside, forty-four feet on the
inside. Round the inner court was another range of cloisters. There
were ten gates into the inner court. The doors of nine of these
gateways were fifty-two and one half feet high, and half that
breadth. The gateways rose to the height of seventy feet. The
tenth, usually called the Beautiful Gate of the Temple, was larger
than the rest; the gateway being eighty-seven and one half feet in
height, the doors seventy feet. In the centre of the inner court
was the Temple, itself. The great porch was one hundred and
seventy-five feet in width, the gateway tower one hundred and
thirty-two feet high and forty-three feet wide, and through it was
seen the Beautiful Gate. The Temple itself was built of white
marble, and the roof was covered with sharp golden spikes.
Now that it was evident that on the side of the Temple, alone,
could the enemy make an attack, the division between Simon and John
of Gischala's men was no longer kept up. All gathered for the
defence of the Temple. The Jews kept up a vigilant watch, for the
Romans could assemble in great force in Antonia, unseen by them;
and could advance, under cover, by the cloisters which flanked the
platform connecting Antonia with the Temple, on either side. The
interval between Antonia and the Temple was but three hundred feet.
The cloisters were considered to form part of the Temple, and the
Jews were therefore reluctant to destroy them, although they
greatly facilitated the attack of the Romans.
Finding that his offers were all rejected, Titus spent seven days
in the destruction of a large portion of Antonia, and then prepared
for a night attack. As the whole army could not make the assault,
thirty men were picked from each hundred. Tribunes were appointed
over each thousand, Cerealis being chosen to command the whole.
Titus himself mounted a watchtower in Antonia, in order that he
might see and reward each act of bravery.
The assault began between two and three o'clock in the morning. The
Jews were on the watch and, as soon as the massive columns moved
forward, the cries of the guards gave the alarm; and the Jews,
sleeping in and around the Temple, seized their arms and rushed
down to the defence. For a time, the Romans had the advantage. The
weight of their close formation enabled them to press forward
against the most obstinate resistance and, even in the darkness,
there was no fear of mistaking friend for foe; while the Jews,
fighting in small parties, often mistook each other for enemies,
and as many fell by the swords of their friends as by those of the
enemy. The loss was all the greater, since the troops of John of
Gischala and Simon had no common password and, coming suddenly upon
each other, often fought desperately before they discovered their
mistake; but as daylight began to break, these mistakes became less
frequent. The presence and example of their leaders animated the
Jews to the greatest exertions, while the knowledge that Titus was
watching them inspired the Romans with even more than their usual
courage and obstinacy. For nine hours, the conflict raged; and then
the Romans, unable to make the slightest impression upon the
resistance of the Jews, fell back again into Antonia.
Finding that, in hand-to-hand conflict, his soldiers could not overcome
the Jews, Titus ordered the erection of small embankments--two on the
platform between the cloisters, the other two outside the cloister walls.
But the work proceeded slowly, owing to the difficulty of procuring wood.
The Jews, as usual, hindered the work as much as possible, with showers
of missiles; and attempted to create a diversion, by a sortie and attack
upon the camp of the Tenth Legion, on the Mount of Olives. This, however,
was repulsed by the Romans, without great difficulty.
As the cloisters leading to Antonia afforded great assistance to
the Romans, in their attacks, the Jews set fire to the end of the
cloisters touching the Temple wall; and a length of from twenty to
thirty feet of each cloister was destroyed. The Romans destroyed a
further portion, so as to afford more room for the men at work upon
the embankments. The action of the Jews was, to a certain extent, a
necessity; but it depressed the spirits of the inhabitants, for
there was a prophecy: "When square the walls, the Temple falls!"
Hitherto, Antonia and the connecting cloisters had been considered
as forming part of the Temple, and had given it an irregular form;
but the destruction of these cloisters left the Temple standing a
massive square.
The embankments presently rose above the height of the wall, and it
was evident that this would soon be taken. The Jews retired from the
roof of the cloister facing the embankment, as if despairing of
further resistance; but they had previously stored great quantities
of combustibles in the space between the cedar roof of the cloisters
and the upper platform. The Romans on the embankment--seeing that the
Jews had retired--without waiting for orders ran down and, planting
ladders, scaled the wall.
The Jews set up cries, as if of despair; and the Romans poured up
on to the wall until a great mass of men were collected on the roof
of the cloister. Then, on a sudden, flames shot up in all
directions beneath their feet, and they found themselves enveloped
in a sea of fire. Many were burned, or smothered by the smoke. Some
stabbed themselves with their swords. Some leaped down into the
outer court, and were there killed by the Jews. Many jumped down
outside the walls, and were picked up dead or with broken limbs.
Others ran along upon the top of the walls, until they were shot
down by the Jewish missiles.
But one man seems to have escaped. A soldier named Artorius,
standing on the wall, shouted to the Romans below, "Whoever catches
me shall be my heir."
A soldier ran forward to accept the terms. Artorius jumped down
upon him; killing him by his fall, but himself escaping unhurt.
The fire extended along the whole of the western cloister; and the
northern cloister was, next day, burned by the Romans and, thus, on
the west and north sides the inner Temple was now exposed to the
invader.
All this time, famine had been continuing its work. The fighting
men were so weakened that they had scarcely strength to drag their
limbs along, or to hold their weapons; while horrible tales are
told of the sufferings of such of the inhabitants who still
survived--one woman, maddened by despair, cooking and eating her
own infant. Occasionally a baggage animal or a Roman cavalry horse
strayed near the walls, when a crowd of famishing wretches would
pour out, kill and devour it. Titus, however, cut off even this
occasional supply; by ordering a soldier, whose horse had thus
fallen into the hands of the Jews, to be put to death for his
carelessness.
John's band had been greatly diminished in number, in the two days
they had been fighting opposite Antonia. The stores they had
brought to the city were now exhausted; although, for a long time,
only the smallest amount had been issued, daily, to eke out the
handful of grain still served out to each of the fighting men. A
few only had, in their sufferings, refused to obey the orders of
John and their officers, and had joined the bands of Simon and John
of Gischala in the revolting cruelties which they practised, to
extort food from the inhabitants. These had not been allowed to
rejoin the band; which was now reduced to a little over fifty
stern, gaunt, and famine-worn figures--but still unshaken in their
determination to fight to the end.
The Romans now pushed on a bank, from the western wall across the
smouldering ruins of the cloister and inner court; and a battering
ram began to play against the inner Temple but, after six days'
efforts, and bringing up their heaviest battering ram, the Romans
gave it up in despair; for the huge stones which formed the masonry
of the wall defied even the ponderous machines which the Romans
brought to play against it. An embankment, from the northern side,
was also carried across the outer court to the foot of the most
easterly of the four northern gates of the inner Temple.
Still anxious to save the Temple itself, and its cloisters if
possible, Titus would not resort to the use of fire; but ordered
his men to force the gate, with crowbars and levers. After great
efforts, a few of the stones of the threshold were removed; but the
gates, supported by the massive walls and the props behind, defied
all their efforts.
Titus now ordered his soldiers to carry the walls by storm. Ladders
were brought up; and the soldiers, eager for revenge upon the foe
who had so long baffled and humiliated them, sprang to the assault
with shouts of exultation. The Jews offered no resistance, until
the Romans reached the top of the wall but, as they leaped down on
to the roof of the cloister, they threw themselves upon them.
Numbers were slain, as they stepped off the ladders on to the wall;
and many of the ladders were hurled backward, crushing the soldiers
crowded upon them on the pavement beneath.
Then Titus ordered the standards of the legions to be carried up,
thinking that the soldiers would rally round these, the emblems of
military honour. The Jews, however, permitted the standards and
numbers of the legionaries to ascend on to the roof of the
cloisters; and then again fell upon them, with such fury that the
Romans were overpowered, the standards were taken, and their
defenders killed. Not one of the Romans who had mounted the wall
retired from it.
Titus could no longer resist the appeals of his infuriated soldiers
who, maddened by the losses they had suffered, and the disgrace of
the loss of the standards, could not understand why this loss was
entailed upon them--when such an easy way of destroying the gate,
and entering the Temple, was in their power. Most reluctantly,
Titus gave the permission they clamoured for, and allowed his
troops to set fire to the gate. The dry woodwork caught like
tinder, and the flames mounted instantly. The silver plates which
covered the woodwork melted, and ran down in streams; and the fire
at once communicated with the cloisters inside the wall.
Appalled at the sight of the inner court in flames, the Jews stood
despairing; while the shouts of triumph of the Romans rose high in
the air. During the rest of the day, and all through the night, the
conflagration continued and extended all round the cloisters. Thus
the Temple, itself, was surrounded by a ring of fire.
The next day, the 4th of August, Titus called a council of his
generals, to deliberate on the fate of the Temple. There were
present, besides Titus, Tiberias Alexander, the second in command;
the commanders of the Fifth, Tenth, and Fifteenth Legions; Fronto,
the commander of the Alexandrian troops; and Marcus Antonius
Julianus, the procurator of Judea.
Some were for levelling the Temple to the ground. Others advised
that, if abandoned by the Jews, it might be preserved; but if
defended as a citadel, it ought to be destroyed. Titus listened to
the opinions of the others; and then declared his own--which was
that, whatever the use the Jews made of it, it ought to be
preserved. Alexander, Cerealis, and Fronto went over to the opinion
of Titus; and therefore, by a majority of one, it was agreed that
the Temple should be spared, however fiercely the Jews might
resist. Orders were given to prevent the fire spreading to the
Temple, and to clear the ground for an assault against it.
The 5th of August broke. It was on that day that the Temple of
Solomon had been burned, by Nebuchadnezzar; but the courage of the
Jews was not depressed by the omen. The brief pause had enabled
them to recover from the despair which they had felt, in seeing the
inner cloister in flames; and at eight o'clock in the morning,
sallying from the Eastern Gate, they rushed down upon the Romans.
The latter formed in close order and, covered by their shields,
received the onslaught calmly. But so desperately did the Jews
fight, and in such numbers did they pour out from the Temple, that
the Romans had begun to give way; when Titus arrived, with great
reinforcements. But even then, it was not until one o'clock that
the Jews were driven back, again, into the walls of the inner
Temple.
Titus, having seen his troops victorious, retired to his tent; and
the soldiers continued their work of clearing the platform, and
extinguishing the smouldering fire of the cloisters. Suddenly the
Jewish bands burst out again, and another deadly struggle
commenced. Then one of the Roman soldiers, seizing a burning brand
from the cloisters, hurled it into the window of one of the side
chambers that inclosed the Temple on the north.
In the furious struggle that was going on, none noticed the action;
and it was not until the flames were seen, rushing out of the
window, that the Jews perceived what had happened. With a cry of
anguish, they discontinued the conflict, and rushed back to try and
extinguish the flames. But the woodwork, dried by the intense heat
of the August sun, was ripe for burning and, in spite of the most
desperate efforts, the fire spread rapidly.
The news that the Temple was on fire reached Titus and, starting
up, accompanied by his bodyguard of spearmen--commanded by
Liberatus--he hastened to the spot. His officers followed him and,
as the news spread, the whole of the Roman legionaries rushed, with
one accord, to the spot. Titus pushed forward into the first court
of the inner Temple--the Court of the Women--and then into the
inner court and, by shouts and gestures, implored his own soldiers,
and the Jews alike, to assist in subduing the flames.
But the clamour and din drowned his voice. The legionaries, pouring
in after him, added to the confusion. So great was the crowd that
many of the soldiers were crushed to death; while many fell among
the ruins of the still smouldering cloisters, and were either
smothered or burned. Those who reached the sanctuary paid no
attention to the remonstrances, commands, or even threats of Titus;
but shouted to those in front of them to complete the work of
destruction.
Titus pressed forward, with his guards, to the vestibule; and then
entered, first the Holy, and then the Holy of Holies. After one
glance at the beauty and magnificence of the marvellous shrine, he
rushed back and again implored his soldiers to exert themselves to
save it; and ordered Liberatus to strike down any who disobeyed.
But the soldiers were now altogether beyond control, and were mad
with triumph, fury, and hate. One of the bodyguard, as Titus left
the sanctuary, seized a brand and applied it to the woodwork. The
flames leaped up, and soon the whole Temple was wrapped in fire.
The soldiers spread through the building, snatching at the golden
ornaments and vessels, and slaying all they met--unarmed men,
priests in their robes, women and children. Many of the Jews threw
themselves into the flames. Some of the priests found their way on
to the broad wall of the inner Temple; where they remained, until
compelled by famine to come down, when they were all executed. Six
thousand of the populace took refuge on the roof of the Royal
Cloister, along the south side of the outer Temple. The Romans set
fire to this, and every soul upon it perished.
As soon as they felt that their efforts to extinguish the fire were
vain, and that the Temple was indeed lost, John of Gischala, Simon,
and John called their men together and, issuing out, fell with the
fury of desperation upon the dense ranks of the Roman soldiers in
the inner court and, in spite of their resistance, cut their way
through to the outer court; and gained the bridge leading from the
southwest corner, across the Valley of the Tyropceon, to the upper
city; and were therefore, for a time, in safety.
John, bewildered, exhausted, and heartbroken from the terrible
events of the past few days, staggered back to his house, and threw
himself on his couch; and lay there for a long time, crushed by the
severity of the blow. Until now he had hoped that Titus would, in
the end, spare the Temple; but he recognized, now, that it was the
obstinacy of the Jews that had brought about its destruction.
"It was God's will that it should perish," he said, to himself;
"and Titus could no more save it than I could do."
After some hours, he roused himself and descended to the room now
occupied by the remnant of the band. Jonas and ten others, alone,
were gathered there. Some had thrown themselves down on the ground.
Some sat in attitudes of utter dejection. Several were bleeding
from wounds received in the desperate fight of the morning. Others
were badly burned in the desperate efforts they had made to
extinguish the flames. Exhausted by want of food, worn out by their
exertions, filled with despair at the failure of their last hopes,
the members of the little band scarce looked up when their leader
entered.
"My friends," he said, "listen to me, if but for the last time. We,
at least, have nothing to reproach ourselves with. We have fought
for the Temple, to the last; and if we failed to save it, it is
because it was the will of God that it should perish. At any rate,
our duty is done. God has not given us our lives, and preserved
them through so many fights, that we should throw them away. It is
our duty, now, to save our lives, if we can. Now that the Temple
has fallen, we are called upon to do no more fighting.
"Let the bands of John of Gischala, and Simon, fight to the last.
They are as wild beasts, inclosed in the snare of the hunter; and
they merit a thousand deaths, for it is they who have brought
Jerusalem to this pass, they who have robbed and murdered the
population, they who have destroyed the granaries which would have
enabled the city to exist for years, they who refused the terms by
which the Temple might have been saved, they who have caused its
destruction in spite of the efforts of Titus to preserve it. They
are the authors of all this ruin and woe. They have lived as wild
beasts, so let them die!
"But there is no reason why we should die with them, for their
guilt is not upon our heads. We have done our duty in fighting for
the Temple, and have robbed and injured none. Therefore, I say, let
us save our lives."
"Would you surrender to the Romans?" one of the band asked,
indignantly. "Do you, whom we have followed, counsel us to become
traitors?"
"It is not treachery to surrender, when one can no longer resist,"
John said, quietly. "But I am not thinking of surrendering. I am
thinking of passing out of the city, into the country around.
"But first, let us eat. I see you look surprised but, although the
store we brought hither is long since exhausted, there is still a
last reserve. I bought it, with all the money that I had with me,
from one of Simon's men, upon the day when we came hither from the
lower town. He had gained it, doubtless, in wanton robbery for, at
that time, the fighting men had plenty of food; but as it was his,
I bought it, thinking that the time might come when one meal might
mean life to many of us. I have never touched it, but it remains
where I hid it, in my chamber. I will fetch it, now."
John ascended to his chamber, and brought down a bag containing
about fifteen pounds of flour.
"Let us make bread of this," he said. "It will give us each a good
meal, now; and there will be enough left to provide food for each,
during the first day's journey."
The exhausted men seemed inspired with new life, at the sight of
the food. No thought of asking how they were to pass through the
Roman lines occurred to them. The idea of satisfying their hunger
overpowered all other feelings.
The door was closed to keep out intruders. Dough was made, and a
fire kindled with pieces of wood dry as tinder, so that no smoke
should attract the eye of those who were constantly on the lookout
for such a sign that some family were engaged in cooking. The flat
dough cakes were placed over the glowing embers, the whole having
been divided into twenty-four portions. Some of the men would
hardly wait until their portions were baked; but John urged upon
them that, were they to eat it in a half-cooked state, the
consequences might be very serious, after their prolonged fast.
Still, none of them could resist breaking off little pieces, to
stay their craving.
"Let us eat slowly," John said, when the food was ready. "The more
slowly we eat, the further it will go. When it is eaten, we will
take a sleep for four hours, to regain our strength. There is no
fear of our being called upon to aid in the defence. The Romans
must be as exhausted as we are; and they will need thought, and
preparation, before they attack our last stronghold, which is far
stronger than any they have yet taken. If we had food, we could
hold Mount Zion against them for months."
As soon as the meal was over, all lay down to sleep. None had asked
any question as to how their escape was to be effected. The
unexpected meal, which John's forethought had prepared for them,
had revived all their confidence in him; and they were ready to
follow him, wherever he might take them.
It was night when John called them to awake, but the glare of the
vast pile of the burning Temple lit up every object. The brightness
almost equalled that of day.
"It is time," John said, as the men rose to their feet and grasped
their arms. "I trust that we shall have no occasion to use weapons;
but we will carry them so that, if we should fall into the hands of
the Romans, we may fall fighting, and not die by the torments that
they inflict upon those who fall into their hands. If I could
obtain a hearing, so as to be brought before Titus, he might give
us our lives; but I will not trust to that. In the first place,
they would cut us down like hunted animals, did they come upon us;
and in the second, I would not, now, owe my life to the clemency of
the Romans."
A fierce assent was given by his followers.
"Now," John went on, "let each take his piece of bread, and put it
in his bosom. Leave your bucklers and javelins behind you, but take
your swords.
"Jonas, bring a brand from the fire.
"Now, let us be off."
None of those with him, except Jonas, had the least idea where he
was going; but he had instructed the lad in the secret of the pit
and, one day, had taken him down the passages to the aqueduct.
"You and I found safety before, Jonas, together, and I trust may do
so again; but should anything happen to me, you will now have the
means of escape."
"If you die, I will die with you, master," Jonas said.
And indeed, in the fights he had always kept close to John,
following every movement, and ready to dash forward when his leader
was attacked by more than one enemy; springing upon them like a
wildcat, and burying his knife in their throats. It was to his
watchful protection and ready aid that John owed it that he had
passed through so many combats, comparatively unharmed.
"Not so, Jonas," he said, in answer to the lad's declaration that
he would die with him. "It would be no satisfaction to me that you
should share my fate, but a great one to know that you would get
away safely. If I fall, I charge you to pass out by this
underground way; and to carry to my father, and mother, and Mary,
the news that I have fallen, fighting to the last, in the defence
of the Temple. Tell them that I thought of them to the end, and
that I sent you to them to be with them; and to be to my father and
mother a son, until they shall find for Mary a husband who may fill
my place, and be the stay of their old age. My father will treat
you as an adopted son, for my sake; and will bestow upon you a
portion of his lands.
"You have been as a brother to me, Jonas; and I pray you, promise
me to carry out my wishes."
Jonas had reluctantly given the pledge but, from that hour until
John had declared that he would fight no more, Jonas had been moody
and silent. Now, however, as he walked behind his friend, his face
was full of satisfaction. There was no chance, now, that he would
have to take home the news of his leader's death. Whatever befell
them, they would share together.
They soon reached the door of the house in which the pit was
situated. It was entered, and the door closed behind them. The
lamps were then lit. John led the way to the cellar, and bade the
men remove the boards.
"I will go first, with one of the lamps," he said. "Do you, Jonas,
take the other, and come last in the line.
"Keep close together, so that the light may be sufficient for all
to see."
Strengthened by the meal, and by their confidence in John's promise
to lead them through the Romans, the band felt like new men; and
followed John with their usual light, active gait, as he led the
way. Not a word was spoken, till they reached the hole leading into
the aqueduct.
"This is the Conduit of King Hezekiah," John said. "When we emerge
at the other end, we shall be beyond the Roman lines."
Exclamations of satisfaction burst from the men. Each had been
wondering, as he walked, where their leader was taking them. All
knew that the ground beneath Jerusalem was honeycombed by caves and
passages; but that their leader could not intend to hide there was
evident, for they had but one meal with them. But that any of these
passages should debouch beyond the Roman lines had not occurred to
them.
Each had thought that the passages they were following would
probably lead out, at the foot of the wall, into the Valley of
Hinnom or of Jehoshaphat; and that John intended to creep with them
up to the foot of the Roman wall, and to trust to activity and
speed to climb it, and make their way through the guard placed
there to cut off fugitives. But none had even hoped that they would
be able to pass the wall of circumvallation without a struggle.
An hour's walking brought them to the chamber over the springs.
"Now," John said, "we will rest for half an hour, before we sally
out. Let each man eat half the food he has brought with him. The
rest he must keep till tomorrow, for we shall have to travel many
miles before we can reach a spot that the Romans have not laid
desolate, and where we may procure food.
"I trust," he went on, "that we shall be altogether unnoticed. The
sentries may be on the alert, on their wall, for they will think it
likely that many may be trying to escape from the city; but all
save those on duty will be either asleep after their toils, or
feasting in honour of their success. The fact, too, of the great
glare of light over Jerusalem will render the darkness more
intense, when they look in the other direction.
"But if we should be noticed, it is best that we should separate,
and scatter in the darkness; each flying for his life, and making
his way home as best he may. If we are not seen, we will keep
together. There is no fear of meeting with any Roman bands, when we
are once fairly away. The parties getting wood will have been
warned, by the smoke, of what has taken place; and will have
hurried back, to gain their share of the spoil."
At the end of the half hour, John rose to his feet and led the way
along the passage to the entrance. When he came to the spot where
it was nearly blocked up, he blew out his light, and crawled
forward over the rubbish, until he reached the open air. The others
followed, until all were beside him. Then he rose to his feet. The
Temple was not visible, but the whole sky seemed on fire above
Jerusalem; and the outline of the three great towers of the Palace
of Herod, and of the buildings of the upper city, stood black
against the glare.
There was no sign of life or movement near as, with a quick,
noiseless step, the little party stole away. None of them knew more
than the general direction which they had to follow, but the glare
of the great fire served as a guide as to their direction and, even
at this distance, made objects on the ground plainly visible; so
that they were enabled to pick their way among the stumps of the
fallen plantations and orchards, through gardens, and by ruined
villas and houses, until they reached the edge of the plateau, and
plunged down into the valleys descending to the Dead Sea. After
walking for two hours, John called a halt.
"We can walk slowly now," he said, "and avoid the risk of breaking
our legs among the rocks. We are safe, here; and had best lie down
until morning, and then resume our way. There is no fear, whatever,
of the Romans sending out parties, for days. They have the upper
city to take, yet, and the work of plunder and division of the
spoil to carry out. We can sleep without anxiety."
It was strange, to them all, to lie down to sleep among the
stillness of the mountains, after the din and turmoil of the siege
when, at any moment, they might be called upon to leap up to repel
an attack. But few of them went off to sleep, for some time. The
dull feeling of despair, the utter carelessness of life, the desire
for death and the end of trouble which had so long oppressed
them--these had passed away, now that they were free, and in the
open air; and the thoughts of the homes they had never thought to
see again, and of the loved ones who would greet them, on their
return, as men who had almost come back from the dead, fell upon
them. They could go back with heads erect, and clear consciences.
They had fought, so long as the Temple stood. They had, over and
over again, faced the Romans hand to hand, without giving way a
foot. They had taken no share in the evil deeds in the city, and
had wronged and plundered no one. They did not return as
conquerors, but that was the will of God, and no fault of theirs.
At daybreak they were on their feet again, and now struck off more
to the left; following mountain paths among the hills until, at
last, they came down to the plain, within half a mile of the upper
end of the Dead Sea. John here called his companions round him.
"Here, my friends," he said, "I think it were best that we
separated; laying aside our swords and, singly or in pairs, finding
the way back to our homes. We know not in what towns there may be
Roman garrisons, or where we may meet parties of their soldiers
traversing the country. Alone, we shall attract no attention. One
man may conceal himself behind a tree, or in the smallest bush; but
the sight of a party, together, would assuredly draw them upon us.
Therefore, it were best to separate. Some of you will find it
shorter to cross the ford of the Jordan, three miles away; while
others had best follow this side of the river."
All agreed that this would be the safer plan and, after a short
talk, each took leave of his leader and comrades, and strode away;
until Jonas, alone, remained with John.
"Will you cross the river, John, or follow this side?" Jonas asked.
"I think we had best keep on this side, Jonas. On the other the
country is hilly, and the villages few. Here, at least, we can
gather fruit and corn, as we go, from the deserted gardens and
fields; and two days' walking will take us to Tarichea. We can
cross there, or take a boat up the lake."
After waiting until the last of their comrades had disappeared from
sight, John and his companion continued their way, keeping about
halfway between Jericho and the Jordan. They presently bore to the
left, until on the great road running north from Jericho. This they
followed until nightfall, rejoicing in the grapes and figs which
they picked by the roadside where, but a few months since, little
villages had nestled thickly.
Just before darkness fell they came upon a village which, although
deserted, had not been burned--probably owing to some body of Roman
soldiers having taken up their post there for a time. They entered
one of the houses, lay down, and were soon fast asleep.