The Jews Since A. D. 70.
By M. E. Steward
Judea had not entirely surrendered to the Roman power, though its metropolis had fallen. When Lucilius Bassus took command of the Roman army, he found three strong-holds still in arms,—Herodion, Machaerus, and Masada. Herodion immediately capitulated. Machaerus, a place of great natural beauty, was built on the top of a very high, rocky hill, surrounded by valleys of very great depth. The one on the west ran down seven and a half miles to the Dead Sea, while on the north and south they were impassable, and the eastern one was one hundred and seventy-five feet deep. Machaerus was built by Alexander Janneus, king of the Jews, to repel the Arabian robbers. Herod the Great, considering it a very important point of defense on account of its natural strength, built a city around the rocky citadel, enclosing it with strongly fortified walls, within which he built very beautiful palaces. He then fitted it up to sustain a long siege, putting into it a large quantity of implements of warfare and building a great many reservoirs of water, though Machaerus had natural fountains, hot and cold, bitter, sweet, and medicinal. According to Josephus, it was here that John the Baptist was beheaded. Bassus determined to lay the siege of this place on the east, and accordingly went to work to fill up the valley. And now the garrison retired to the lofty towers on the top of the hill, leaving the strangers who had fled to Machaerus for safety in the lower town. The Jews frequently sallied out of the citadel against the Romans, but with unequal success; sometimes being repelled with loss; and again, when the Romans were off their guard, killing many of them. A young man named Eleazar, of a noble and numerous family, especially distinguished himself at these times. But once, remaining carelessly behind his retiring companions, conversing with the men on the wall, Rufus, an Egyptian, ran from the Romans and carried him off in his arms to the Roman camp. Bassus ordered him to be stripped and scourged before the city, at sight of which his associates mourned so greatly that Bassus, surprised that they should grieve so for a single man, resolved to see if he could not, through their sympathy for him, get possession of the city. He commanded a cross to be erected as though he were about to execute Eleazar. The wailings in the city greatly increased, and through his own pleadings for life with those of his countrymen, and the influence of his powerful friends, the Jews agreed to surrender on condition that Eleazar should be saved, and they should all be permitted to depart undisturbed. The terms were accepted, and the treaty with the garrison was faithfully kept. The strangers, hearing of the capitulation, and that no provision had been made for them, attempted to cut their way out and escape in the night; but when they opened the gates the besiegers rushed in. While some of the foremost and bravest made good their flight, those found within the walls were slain, amounting to seventeen hundred, and the women and children were made slaves. Many fled to the forest of Jarden, where were also fugitives from Jerusalem, some of whom had escaped through the underground passages. Bassus surrounded this forest with horsemen. The Jews, seeing no alternative, made a fierce assault on the enemy. Both sides fought desperately, but the Jews, numbering three thousand, were all slain, while of the Romans there were but twelve killed and a few wounded. About this time Bassus died, and Flavius Silva succeeded him in command. One stronghold on the south-western side of the Dead Sea still held out against the Romans. It stood, like Machaerus, on a very high rock, and was surrounded by the deepest chasms, being accessible in only two places,—one on the east leading up from the Dead Sea, a rocky stairway called the Serpent from its winding course, often turning back almost upon itself, and so narrow that, were the foot to slip, one must inevitably be dashed into the abysses below. This path extended nearly four miles, opening into a very beautiful, fertile plain on which stood Masada. The western ascent which was somewhat more gradual, was fortified in its narrowest place by an impregnable tower. Jonathan, the high priest, first built the fortress of Masada; but Herod had spared no pains in rebuilding and fortifying the place, looking to it as a place of refuge either in case of foreign invasion, which he feared from Egypt, as Cleopatra had often begged Antony to give Judea to her; or a revolt from his own subjects, to whom his cruelties had made him very odious. Herod had built a wall of white stone around it twenty-two feet high and fourteen broad, having thirty-eight lofty towers. He also built within it a magnificent palace surrounded by a high, strong wall having at its four corners towers sixty cubits high. The furniture throughout this edifice was very costly and of great variety. Large reservoirs were constructed for water, besides the natural supply from fountains. (In our temperate climate we do not so much realize the inestimable value of water as they did.) Herod had laid up in Masada a great quantity of provisions, oil, wine, grains, vegetables, and fruits, which, though nearly one hundred years old, were in a state of perfect preservation, owing, Josephus thinks, to the pure atmosphere of the place. Herod had also deposited here weapons enough to supply ten thousand men. At the time of the siege a powerful man by the name of Eleazar with a band of banditti had obtained possession of this fortress. He was a descendant of one Judas who had many years before violently opposed the taxation imposed upon the Jews by the Romans and led away much people with him. Eleazar was staunch in the principles of his ancestor, believing it the height of impiety to submit to any other authority than that of God himself. Silva built a wall entirely around the city, having towers in which he stationed garrisons so that no one might escape, and, seizing a broad rock on the west, called the White Promontory, he built upon this, being all the place where he could approach the town, a bank of earth three hundred and fifty feet high. Then upon this embankment he constructed another bank of enormous stones, and placing on the latter a Helepolis, he brought it to bear on the walls of the city. Soon a breach was made; but the besieged had built another wall inside, of great parallel timbers in two rows, united together by transverse beams, and filled in between all with earth. The harder this wall was struck, the more compact it became. Silva, comprehending this, ordered it to be burned. His men threw upon it fire-brands and it immediately flamed up; but the wind drove the fire upon the Romans, who greatly feared their machines would all be destroyed. Suddenly, however, the wind changed to the south, and the wall, now completely on fire, was soon burned down. The Romans, after stationing a strong watch to prevent the flight of the besieged, retired to rest, resolving on an196attack the next day. But they did not know Eleazar; he could die, but he would not disgracefully flee or permit others to do so. Assembling all his followers in the palace, he reasoned and plead with them a long time never to allow themselves to fall into the hands of the Romans. Said he: “We were the first who revolted from them (referring to Judas in the taxing), and we are the last that fight against them.” He continued: “It had been proper, indeed, for us to have conjectured at the purposes of God much sooner, . . . and to have been sensible that the same God who had of old taken the Jewish nation into his favor had now condemned them to destruction.” The ruin of his holy city and the temple, and lastly his changing the wind in favor of their enemies, so conquering their otherwise impregnable fortress, all proved to Eleazar that God had deserted them. Said he, “This was the effect of God’s anger against us for our manifold sins; the punishment of which let us not receive from the Romans, but from God himself, as executed by our own hands.”—Josephus. He then proposed that they should all slay one another, and burn the fortress and all their wealth except their provisions; which he said would testify that they were not starved into submission, but that they preferred death to slavery. Some caught his heroic spirit; others with tears looked upon their wives and children. Seeing this, he began again in a loftier strain, enthusiastically discoursing on the immortality of the soul, the blessedness of its life when freed from mortality and brought into a state of purity. He dwelt on the horrors of slavery; the cruelty the Romans had shown their race; the scenes of the amphitheaters—how some had been “tortured with fire and whipping, and so died; some have been half devoured by wild beasts and yet have been reserved alive to be devoured by them a second time in order to afford laughter and sport to our enemies.”—Josephus. “Let us die,” he ended, “unenslaved; let us depart from life in freedom, with our wives and children. This our law demands, this our wives and children entreat. God himself has driven us to this stern necessity; this the Romans dread above all things, lest we should disappoint them of their victory. Let us deny them the joy and triumph of seeing us subdued, and rather strike them with awe at our death and with enforced admiration of our indomitable valor.”—Milman. It was enough. He was interrupted by the clamors of the entire multitude, who, with a demonical fury, vied with one another in their haste to demonstrate their courage in the work of self-sacrifice. “They embraced their wives; they kissed their children even with tears; and at the moment, as though they had been the passive instruments of another’s will, they stabbed them to the heart. Not a man declined the murderous office. But they thought that they should wrong the dead if they survived them many minutes. They hastily drew together their most valuable effects, and heaping them up, set fire to these sumptuous funeral piles. Ten men having been chosen by lot as the general executioners, the rest, one after another, still clasping the lifeless bodies of their wives and children, held up their necks to the blow. The ten then cast lots; nine fell by each other’s hands; the last man, after he had carefully searched whether there was any more work for him to do, seized a lighted brand, set fire to the palace, and then with resolute and unflinching hand, drove the sword to his own heart.”—Milman’s History of the Jews. One old woman, and another woman who was a relative of Eleazar, distinguished for her learning and judgment, with five children, were all who escaped. They had crept into caverns below the ground, and remained hid during the awful work of death. The next morning the Romans, in close array, well armed to attack the fortress, scaled the walls and rushing into the city, were astonished at the profound silence that reigned everywhere. At length they gave a shout as they did when about to drive the battering-ram; no response; but the women crept out of their hiding places and told them all that had happened, the wise one repeating everything that had been said. Their story could hardly be credited; but extinguishing the fire enough to go within the palace, they were convinced of the truth. They beheld the multitude of the slain, numbering nine hundred and sixty persons, with amazement and pain, while admiring at the same time their courage; scarcely comprehending such lofty though fierce fanaticism. The Lord had said, “I will destroy your high places.” “Then shall ye know that I am the Lord, when their slain men shall be . . upon every high hill.” Eze. 6. “And he shall besiege thee in all thy gates, until thy high and fenced walls come down, wherein thou trustedst, throughout all thy land.” “All these curses shall be upon thee for a sign and for a wonder.” Deut. 28. With the overthrow of Masada terminated the subjection of all Judea.