The Jews having refused a passage to the Roman army which was marching
against Aristobulus, Pompey, highly irritated, set himself down before
their capital. The sight of this place, which nature and art appeared
to have rendered impregnable, made him, for the first time, doubtful
of the good fortune which had so often crowned his exploits. He was in
this state of incertitude when the Jews of the city, with that want of
true policy which distinguished them in all ages, divided themselves
into two factions. The one favourable to the Romans proving to be the
stronger, opened the gates to Pompey, whilst the other, consisting of
the partisans of Aristobulus, retired to the Temple, to which the Roman
general quickly laid siege. He raised vast terraces, upon which he
placed balistæ and other machines of war, the continual play of which
drove away the defenders of the walls. But the Jews, whom nothing
seemed to astonish, rendered the efforts of the Romans useless by their
valour and perseverance. They defended themselves with so much art and
intrepidity, that in the course of three months the Romans were only
able to take one tower. But at length the vigorous obstinacy of the
legions was crowned with its usual success; the Temple was taken by
assault, Cornelius Faustus, son of the dictator Sylla, at the head of
a brave troop, being the first to enter the breach. All who ventured
to show themselves were massacred. Several sacrificers were immolated
in the performance of their ministry. All who could escape the fury
of the enemy either precipitated themselves from the nearest rocks,
or, gathering together their wealth, after setting fire to it, cast
themselves into the flames. Twelve thousand Jews perished in this
unfortunate instance. Pompey respected the treasures of the Temple, and
crowned his victory by forbearance and generosity.