The Hammer: A Story of the Maccabean Times

by Alfred John Church

  CHAPTER XXVI.

  LIGHT OUT OF DARKNESS.

  For a time the prospects of the patriots seemed dark indeed. Beth-zur hadfallen, and the only hope of the cause was in the Temple fortress. Thiswas fiercely assailed by the garrison of the Greek stronghold of MountZion on the one side, and, on the other, by the army which had beenvictorious at Beth-Zachariah, and which now occupied the Lower City. TheTemple fortress was strong; it was fairly well supplied with munitions ofwar; and the garrison was large--indeed, almost too large for theaccommodation of the place. The fatal weakness of the position was thescanty supply of provisions. Only water was abundant, for the unsparingtoil of former generations had provided for this want; had it not been forthis the resistance of the garrison must very soon have come to an end,for food was scarce--so scarce, indeed, that the strength of the fightingmen could hardly be maintained by the insufficient rations which weredoled out to them, while the few non-combatants received barely enough tokeep body and soul together.

  The condition of the Jewish population of the city was not as bad as mighthave been expected. The cruelties of the days of Apollonius and Philipwere not repeated; for Lysias, who, as guardian of the boy-King, waspractically supreme, favoured a policy of conciliation, and did his bestto repress outrage. Indeed he sanctioned the establishment of what may becalled a municipal guard or militia, which, while under obligation to giveno assistance to the garrison of the Temple, was permitted to protect thepeaceful inhabitants of the city. This guard was under the command ofSeraiah.

  There was much, of course, that it was difficult for those to bear wholooked to Judas and his brothers as the hope of Israel. Menelaues hadreturned, and with him a whole troop of renegade Jews, whose insolence andimpiety sorely tried the patience of the faithful population. And thescarcity of food was only less severe in the city than it was in thefortress.

  For some time Seraiah's own household continued to receive mysterioussupplies from some unknown source, which made them far more comfortablethan their neighbours. Once a week, or even oftener, they would find a bagof corn or flour, a basket of dried grapes or other fruits, a bundle ofsalt fish, a string of doves or wood-pigeons, put in an outhouse, norcould they guess who their benefactor could be. But when this had gone onfor nearly two months, the secret came out. Seraiah, returning from hismilitary duties at an early hour in the morning, and entering by a littlepostern gate in order to avoid disturbing the household, saw a man dropfrom the garden wall. He seized him by the arm, and the stranger, turningsharply round, revealed the well-known features of Benjamin.

  "What do you here?" he asked.

  "I am come on an errand of my own," answered the robber.

  "But in my house?"

  "Ask no more questions," said the man; "but take my word--and I would notlie to you for all the kingdom of Antiochus--that I mean no harm to you oryours."

  A thought flashed across Seraiah's mind.

  "It is you, then, who have been bringing us, week after week, thesesupplies of food?"

  Benjamin said nothing.

  "I adjure you by God that you answer me," said Seraiah.

  "Well, if you will know it, it is I who have done it. Why should not Goduse a man's hands to feed His servants, as well as a raven's beak?"

  "Tell me--how did you come by these things?"

  "In various ways."

  "Lawfully?"

  "Well, I can hardly say; you and I might not agree about the matter."

  "Tell me--did you buy them with your money?"

  "Nay; that is not my way. I do not buy or sell."

  "Then you stole them."

  "I told you that we should not agree. But this I know, that they to whomthey belonged could do without them better than you and your children."

  "Benjamin," said Seraiah, "you mean well, and I thank you. But after thisbring no more of these gifts, for I cannot receive them. I would not havemy Judge say to me, 'When thou sawest a thief, thou consentedst unto him.'I had sooner die of hunger--aye, and what is far worse, see my childrendie--than take that which has not been lawfully acquired."

  "As you will have it," said Benjamin; "if there were more like you, mayhapI should have been a better man. But meanwhile, the world being what itis, you and yours will have a hard time of it;" and he turned to go away."And the captain," he went on--"how does he fare? I hear that things arenot going well with him. 'Tis a thousand pities, for a braver man neverhandled sword."

  Seraiah told him briefly the story of recent events, and described thepresent condition of affairs, the other listening with an eager attention,and breaking in now and then with an exclamation of wonder and admiration.

  "Come, Benjamin," he said, when he had finished, "why will you not throwin your lot with us? Things look dark just now; but they will brighten. Hewho has helped us so far will not desert us now."

  "Sir," said the man, "I would gladly follow the captain, whether he led meto life or to death. No man could ask a better lot than to be his soldier.But I like not all that are with him. They are over-strict, and make noallowance for such as have not their zeal. Once they beat me; another timethey had stoned me to death but that I slipped out of their hands; andboth for some miserable trifles which no man of sense would care about.No, sir; Judas I honour and love, but these bigots who give a man no peaceI cannot away with. And now the day is beginning to break, and I must go.I am sorry that you will not take my poor gifts."

  The next moment he had disappeared.

  And now came a time of grievous trouble for Ruth and her young charges,for she had naturally taken charge of Azariah's two daughters. She did notquestion her husband's refusal to share any longer the illicit gains ofBenjamin, but she could not shut her eyes to the fact that the childrenwere suffering grievously. For herself she could endure, as women can; thegirls, too, were old enough to understand the cause of their suffering,though they could not enter into the reasons of what seemed so strange anobservance--the Sabbatical year; but little Daniel was too young to knowmuch beyond the fact that he was always terribly hungry, and though he wasoften brave enough to check his crying when he saw how it distressed hismother, there were times when the pangs of hunger were more than he couldbear in silence. Poor Ruth denied herself everything but the few scrapsthat were absolutely necessary to keep body and soul together, and herphysical weakness did not make it easier to keep up her hope and courage.Her hardest task, perhaps, was to hide, as far as it was possible, thetrue state of things from her husband. His strength must be kept up, forso much depended upon it; but the children, not to speak of herself, hadto have their scanty share diminished that it might be so. This, ofcourse, he was not allowed to know, and Ruth was at her wits' end againand again to keep it from him.

  Within the Temple fortress, meanwhile, things had become almost desperate.A few shekels' weight of flour was given out to each man daily, for Judasinsisted that all should share alike. That even this scanty allowancemight hold out the longer, numbers of the garrison made their escape everynight under the cover of darkness that the remainder might prolong theirresistance for yet a few days more.

  Before long came a time when absolutely nothing was left. "Their vesselswere without victuals," and Judas and the few that still remained with himmet to hold a final deliberation.

  "My friends," said the great captain, "you see the straits into which weare brought. There is no need to tell you of them, or to prove by wordswhat we all know too well in fact. What, then, shall we do? Shall we stayhere and perish slowly by hunger, or shall we fall upon our swords, orshall we sally forth from the gates, and, having slain as many of theheathen as we may, so perish ourselves? I had hoped that the Lord wouldgive deliverance to Israel by my hand, and by the hand of my brothers. Butif it be not so, His will be done. For He is not shut up to do that whichit pleaseth Him by one man or another. He can call whomsoever He will, andgive him strength for the work."

  He paused for a moment, and Azariah broke in, "
It is well said, O captainof the host. The Lord hath helped His people hitherto, and He will helpthem to the end. Only let us trust in Him, for"--and here, with animpetuous gesture, he struck his foot upon the rock--"they that put theirtrust in the Lord shall be even as this mountain, which may not beremoved, but standeth fast for ever."

  Judas was just rising to announce his resolve when the sound of a trumpetwas heard at the gate of the fortress. It was a herald bringing a messagefrom the young King.

  "Have you aught to say to me in private?" asked Judas, when the man wasbrought in.

  "Nay," he answered; "my message is one that all may hear."

  He then delivered it, reading the words from a parchment which he carriedin his hand, and which bore the sign-manual (an impression of theseal-ring dipped in ink) of Antiochus Eupator, as well as that of Lysias.They ran thus:

  "Antiochus, surnamed Eupator, King of Syria and Egypt, offers to thepeople of the Jews peace and friendship. He permits them to worship Godafter the manners and customs of their fathers, and he hereby revokes allthe edicts which the King, his father, having been misinformed byunfaithful advisers, issued against the said nation of the Jews."

  Never was there a more surprising, a more unexpected change in theposition of affairs. But it might have been foreseen by those who hadwatched with a full knowledge of the truth, the recent course of events.

  Despatches had reached Lysias from Antioch which convinced him that he andhis young charge had enemies to reckon with who would be far moreformidable than Judas and his followers. Philip had returned from Persiawith the host of Epiphanes, and had assumed the management of affairs, andPhilip was a dangerous rival. Were he to prevail, his own position as thechief adviser of the King would be untenable; and the King himself wouldvery probably be dispossessed by some other claimant to the throne.

  He laid the case, or at least so much as it was necessary to explain,before the boy-King. The lad, who was indeed intelligent beyond his years,at once acquiesced in the advice, that easy conditions of peace should beoffered to the garrison.

  Then an assembly of the soldiers was summoned. All the officers wereinvited by name, and, after the usual fashion of such gatherings, as manyof the men as could crowd into the chambers were also present. To themLysias said nothing about the news from Antioch, which it would be better,he thought, to conceal as long as possible; but he dwelt on the uselesshardships which they were all enduring.

  "Famine and the pestilence are upon us," he said, "and we decay daily. Butthe place to which we lay siege is strong, and we are no nearer to thetaking of it than we were six months since. Now, therefore, let us offerto these men, who are neither robbers nor murderers, peace and liberty,that they may worship God after their own fashion, and live by their ownlaws. For, of a truth, it is far better, as many of yourselves know, thatthey should be our friends than our enemies."

  An unanimous shout of approval was the answer; and hence the message whichcame so opportunely to Judas and his followers in the very crisis of theirdespair.