For the Temple: A Tale of the Fall of Jerusalem

"I suppose so, mother," Mary said, in a tone of disappointment; "but somehow it never seemed to me, before, that John and I could have any subject on which there would be disagreement."

"My dear Mary," Martha said, smiling, "John and you are both mortal; and although you may truly love each other–and will, I trust, be very happy as husband and wife–subjects will occur upon which you will differ; and then, as you know, the wisest plan is for the wife to be silent. It is the wife's duty always to give way to the husband."

Mary gave a little shrug of her shoulders, as if to intimate that she did not regard altogether favorably this view of a wife's duties; however, she said no more, but kissed Martha, and retired to bed.

The next morning they started early, and journeyed to Capitolias, where they stayed at the house of some friends. In the evening, the talk again turned upon the new leader, who had burned the Roman camp. When they did so, John at once made some excuse, and went out. He regretted, now, that he had not at once told his mother what he had been doing. He had intended, in the first place, to give her a little surprise; but had no idea of the exaggerated reports that had been spread about and, when Mary broke out into praise of the unknown leader, it seemed to him that it would have been absurd to say that he, himself, was the person of whom she had formed so fantastically exalted an opinion. Not having said so at first, he did not see how he could say so, afterwards; and so left the matter as it stood, until they should return home.

While John was out, he heard news which caused him some uneasiness. It was said that parties of Roman horse, from Scythopolis, had been scouring the country; burning many villages–under the pretext that some Roman soldiers, who had straggled away marauding on their own account, had been killed by the peasants–slaughtering the people, and carrying off as slaves such young women and men as were likely to fetch good prices.

He told his mother what he had heard; and asked her whether she did not think that it would be better to stay where they were, for a time, or return to Neve. But Martha was anxious to be at home, again; and the friend with whom they were stopping said that these reports were a week old, and that doubtless the Romans had returned to their camp. She determined, therefore, that she and Mary would continue their journey; but that the maids should remain with their friend, at Capitolias, until the Roman excursions ceased.

They accordingly set out in the morning, as before–the two women riding, and John and Jonas walking by the side of the donkeys. Following the road by the side of the Hieromax they kept on, without meeting anything to cause alarm, until they reached the angle of the stream, where the road to Hippos branched off from that which followed the river down to Tarichea. They had gone but a short distance, when they saw a cloud of dust rising along the road in front of them, and the sparkle of arms in the sun.

"Turn aside, mother," John exclaimed. "Those must be the Romans ahead."

Turning aside, they rode towards some gardens and orchards at no great distance but, before they reached them, two Roman soldiers separated themselves from the rest, and galloped after them.

"Fly, John!" Martha said, hurriedly. "You and Jonas can escape."

"It would only ensure evil to you if we did, mother. No, we will keep together."

The Roman soldiers rode up, and roughly ordered the party to accompany them back to the main body, which consisted of fifty men. The leader, a young officer whose garments and armor showed that he belonged to a family of importance, rode forward a few paces to meet them.

"Some more of this accursed race of rebels!" he exclaimed.

"We are quiet travelers," John said, "journeying from Capitolias to Tarichea. We have harmed no one, my lord."

"You are all the same," the Roman said, scowling. "You speak us fair one day, and stab us in the back the next.

"Pomponius," he said to a sergeant, "put these two lads with the rest. They ought to fetch a good price, for they are strong and active. As to the girl, I will make a present of her, to the general, to send to his wife in Rome. She is the prettiest Jewess I have seen, since I entered the country. The old woman can go. She is of no use to anyone."

Martha threw her arms round Mary; and would have striven to resist, with her feeble strength, the carrying out of the order, when John said in Hebrew:

"Mother, you will ruin us all, and lose your own life! Go home quietly, and trust to me to save Mary."

The habit of submitting to her husband's will, which Martha had practiced all her life, asserted itself. She embraced Mary passionately, and drew aside as the Roman soldiers approached; and then, tottering away a short distance, sank weeping on the ground. Mary shed no tear but, pale as death, walked by the side of a soldier, who led her to the rear of the cavalcade, where four or five other young women were standing, in dejected attitudes.

John and Jonas were similarly placed, with some young men, in the midst of the Roman soldiers. Their hands were tied behind them, and the troop resumed its way. They were traveling by the road along which the little party had just come. Whenever a house or small village was seen, half of the troop galloped off. Flames were soon seen to rise, and parties of wretched captives were driven in.

When about halfway to Capitolias, the troop halted. The horses were turned into a field of ripe corn, to feed. Half the men sat down to a meal, while the remainder stood on guard over the captives. John had whispered to Jonas to work his hands so as to loosen his cords, if possible; and the lad, whose bones were very small, soon said that he could slip the ropes off without difficulty.

It was harder work for John and, indeed, while on the march he did not venture to exert himself, fearing that the movements would be noticed by his guards. But when they halted, he got into the middle of the group of captives, and tried his best to loosen the cords. Jonas was close beside him.

"It is of no use, Jonas," he said. "The cords are cutting into my flesh, and they will not yield in the slightest."

"Let me try, John.

"Stand round close," Jonas said to the other captives, in Hebrew. "I want to loosen my friend's knots. If he can get away, he will bring rescue to you all."

The others moved so as to completely cover the movements of Jonas; and the lad, stooping down, applied his teeth to the knot in John's cords, and soon succeeded in loosening it.

"That will be enough, Jonas. I can draw my hand through, now."

Jonas again stood up.

"When I make an effort to escape, Jonas, do you dash between the horsemen, and run for it. In the confusion you will get a start, and they will not overtake you until you are across the river. Once on the hill, you are safe. If you remain behind and I get away, as likely as not one of the soldiers would send a javelin through you, as being my companion."

After half an hour's halt, the Romans again mounted their horses and turned to retrace their steps. Two Romans rode on either side of the captives, who were about fifty in number; and John gradually made his way to the front of the party, between the two leading horsemen.

The officer, talking to his sergeant, rode a few paces ahead, in the middle of the road. Since the cords had been loosened, John had continued to work his fingers until the circulation was restored. Suddenly he slipped his hands from their fastenings, gave three bounds forward, and vaulted on to the back of the horse behind the officer. He had drawn the knife which had been hidden in his girdle; and he threw one arm round the officer, while he struck the knife deep into the horse's flank. The animal reared in the air and then, at a second application of the knife, sprang forward at the top of his speed, before the astonished Roman knew what had happened. John held him in his arms like a vice and, exerting all his strength, lifted him from the saddle and hurled him headlong to the ground; where he lay, bleeding and insensible.

John had now time to look round. Struck with astonishment at the sudden incident which had passed under their eyes, the Romans had, at first, instinctively reined in their horses. The sergeant had been the first to recover himself and, shouting to the five leading soldiers on each side to follow him, had spurred in pursuit, just as his officer was hurled to the ground. But John was already some fifty yards away, and felt sure that he could not be overtaken.

He had remarked the horse ridden by the officer, while they were eating; and saw that it was of far higher blood and swifter pace than any of those ridden by the soldiers. His own weight, too, was far less than that of the heavy-armed men in pursuit of him and, with a shout of scornful defiance, and a wave of his hand, he continued his course. Before a mile had been passed he had left his pursuers far in the rear and, seeing the hopelessness of the pursuit, they presently reined up and returned to the main body.

Jonas had carried out John's instructions and, the instant the latter sprang on the officer, he slipped under the belly of the horse next to him and ran, at the top of his speed, for the river. It was but a hundred yards away, and he had gone three quarters the distance before any of the soldiers–confused at the attack upon their officer, doubtful whether the whole of the captives were not about to fall upon them, and without orders how to act, set out in pursuit.

Jonas plunged into the stream, dived to the other side, and then sprang forward again, just as three or four soldiers reached the bank he had left. Their javelins were hurled after him, but without effect and, with a shout of triumph, he sprang up the hillside, and was soon safe from pursuit.

As soon as he saw that the Romans had turned back, John sprang from his horse, unstrapped the heavy armor which covered its chest and sides, and flung it away; and then, mounting, resumed his course. At the first house he came to he borrowed a shepherd's horn and, as he approached the first village, sounded his signal for the assembly.

Two or three young men ran out from their houses, as he dashed up; for there was not a village in those parts from which some of the young men had not gone up to the mountains to join him, after the fall of Gamala, and all were ready to follow him anywhere. He rapidly gave them orders to go to all the villages round; and instruct the young men to assemble, with all speed possible, at their old trysting place near Jabez Galaad; and to spread the news as they went, some from each village being sent as messengers to others. Then he pursued his way at full speed and, by sunset, had issued his orders in some twenty villages.

Being convinced that, by night, a sufficient number of men would have gathered in the mountain for his purpose, he rode back to the river, swam his horse across; and then, leaving it to shift for itself, made his way up the mountain. Some seventy or eighty men had already arrived at the appointed place, and fresh parties were coming in every minute. Jonas was already there, John having arranged with him to watch the movements of the Romans until the sun set, and then to bring word to the place of meeting as to their movements.

"Well, Jonas, what is your news?"

"The Romans have halted, for the night, at a spot about a mile this side of where we left them. They remained where they were, until the party who had ridden after you returned; then they went slowly back, after having made a litter with their spears, on which four of them carried the officer you threw from his horse–what a crash he made! I heard the clang of his arms, as I was running. They stopped near one of the villages they burned as we went past; and when I turned to make my way here their fires were burning, so there's no doubt they mean to halt there for the night."

"That is good news, indeed!" John said. "Before morning we will rouse them up in a way they little expect."

John's followers arrived eager for the fight, for the news of the devastations committed by this party of Romans had roused the whole district to fury. As a rule the Romans, except when actually on a campaign, abstained from all ill treatment of the inhabitants–the orders against plundering and injuring the people being here, as in other countries held by the Roman arms, very stringent. In the present case, there was no doubt that Roman soldiers had been killed; but these had brought their fate upon themselves, by their ill treatment and insult of the villagers, and no notice would have been taken of the slaying of men while acting in disobedience of orders, had it not been that they belonged to the company of Servilius Maro.

He was a young noble, possessed of great influence in Rome, and of a ferocious and cruel disposition; and he had urged the general so strongly to allow him to go out, to inflict punishment upon the country people, that consent had reluctantly been given. But even at this time, although the Jews were not aware of it, a messenger was on his way to Servilius with peremptory orders to him to return at once to Scythopolis, as most serious reports as to his cruelty to peaceful inhabitants had come to the general's ears.

But that message Servilius was never to receive. By midnight, upwards of four hundred men had gathered at the rendezvous in the mountains. John divided the force into four bodies, and gave each their orders as to the part that they were to take; and then marched down the hill, crossed the river, and advanced towards the Roman bivouac.

When within a quarter of a mile of the fires, the band broke up into sections and proceeded to surround the enemy. When each company reached the position John had marked out for it, the men began to crawl slowly forward towards the Romans. John sounded a note on his horn and, with a shout, the whole band rushed to their feet and charged down upon the enemy. Before the latter could spring to their feet, and mount their horses, the Jews were among them.

John, with a picked band of twenty men, at once made his way to the center of the camp; where the captives, ignorant of the cause of this sudden alarm, stood huddled together. Placing his men around them, to prevent any Roman soldier injuring them, John joined in the fray.

It was short. Taken by surprise, unable to get together and form in order of defense, the Roman soldiers were surrounded and cut down, each man fighting stubbornly to the last. One of the first to fall was their leader who, springing to his feet at the alarm, had rushed just as he was, without helmet or armor, among his soldiers, and was stabbed in a dozen places before he had time to draw his sword.

The moment the conflict was over, and the last Roman had fallen, John ordered his men to disperse, at once.

"Regain your homes before morning," he said. "There may be other parties of Romans out, and it is as well that none, even of your friends, should see you return; and then the Romans will have no clue as to those who have taken part in this night's business. Take not any of their arms, or spoils. We have fought for vengeance, and to relieve our friends, not for plunder. It is well that the Romans should see that, when they hear of the disaster and march out to bury the dead."

The men were already crowding round the captives, relieving them from their bonds and, in many cases, embracing and weeping on their necks, for among them were many friends and relations of the rescuing party.