Aristobulus, the last of the Maccabees. A tale of Jerusalem

Front matter

ARISTOBULUS, THE LAST OF THE MACCABEES. % (Ink of Imisaht. BY M . K AVAN AGH . IN THREE VOLUMES. VOL. I. LONDON: THOMAS CAUTLEY NEWBY, PUBLISHER, 30, WELBECK STREET, CAVENDISH SQUARE. 1855. AEISTOBULUS. CHAPTEE I. Our Tale of History commences thirty years before the birth of the Saviour, and at evening time in Jerusalem. The setting sun burnished with gold the parapets and towers of the thou sand palaces of the city. A woman leaned on the balustrade of the roof of the most extensive and grandest palace of the thousand. This was the palace of the King of Judea — Herod the VOL. I. B A TALE Great. From the elevated site of the palace, the woman could see, almost in one view, the entire city and its suburbs. What a beautiful and glorious scene ! From over the dark cypress groves of mount Geon, in the west, the sun poured forth a rich roseate light, which inun dated Jerusalem, its cities, its walls, its towers, its gardens.

The woman started from her leaning posture. She thought the change in the scene had come suddenly. When she had com menced to watch, all objects before her were glaring under the sameness of full brightness; now, they were assuming various shades and colours from the setting sun. " Has the evening passed so quickly?" she said mentally, "and he has not come — though he promised so faithfully — and the sun has looked long from the western hills !" She walked with a hurried step up and down the terraced roof. Again she leaned upon the parapet. Insensibly, she was led to look with deep admiration on the beautiful and splendid scene that surrounded her. It was the first time of her life that she felt thus. Mount Mo riah was near her — Moriah under the splen dours of an eastern setting sun — Moriah with its temple — its temple, the wonder of the world ! its cloisters, its many roofs and pinnacles of gold and of marble, glowing under the mel lowed brightness of the evening's light ; Moriah, with its associations of Kings ! and of Prophets ! and of Prophet Kings ! of conquerors and dese crators; of children — faithful, and worshippers in truth.

Acra, the lower city, lay before her, a dark, vast, huddled heap of streets, over which the glorious rays of light seemed contemptu ously to pass in their journey. When the woman looked on Acra, it was with a disdainful feeling. She felt no sympathy with its people — with its traffickers, and its avaricious race. She dwelt for a short time upon Bezetha, the new city in the north, dotted with extensive gardens of olives and cypress, with half-raised palaces, and newly-formed streets ; but when she looked again on Zion — the city of David, she dwelt long in admiration A TALE of its beauty and grandeur! There was its Acropolis, towering above all — the citadel of David, bold in strength and beauty ; its palace of the King, its many towers, its streets, its houses of the noble and wealthy — its gardens, and marble walls, and brazen gates.

Chapter II

"Whither goest thou?" said a Roman senti nel, who kept the first night-watch, at a small door that opened from one of the gardens of the palace of Herod, to the suburbs of Bezetha, or ' the New City.' The challenge was given to a tall figure, muffled in a cloak of a dark brown colour — -the out-door garment of Jews of the middle class. "I go to the Lower City, on duty of the Palace," replied the figure. "Thy name, and the pass-word ?" said the sentinel, with the rough brevity of his pro fession. "Æsop," — answered the addressed. " I go on business of the Queen's Mother." "Friend Æsop, thou mayest speak truth, I doubt it not," replied the rough soldier — rough in manner, though his voice was sweeter to the ear than that of the Egyptian. "Even so, I cannot let thee pass, without the watch-word of the Centurion.

The King has given us command that all may enter after night-fall, but none return or pass out by this way, without his word." "Hear then in thine ear, Soldier,'' said the person with a voice of authority. The Roman instantly raised his casque, according to the custom of his country in doing obeisance, lowered his halbert, and unbarred the door for the egress of the Egyptian. When the muffled person was outside the high walls of the garden, he found himself on a broad platform of hewn stone, raised fifty feet from a deep valley beneath. With great pre caution he descended a flight of narrow steps ; passed with the same care over a temporary plank that spanned the chasm between, and entered a grove of palm trees that covered the slope of the hill on which Bezetha was being A TALE built. This part of Jerusalem was called the suburbs, though it contained many palaces, ar senals, and granaries, belonging to the private nobles of Judea, as well as to the King, and public officers of state ; it was not then in cluded within the precincts of the Great City, as it was afterwards by King Agrippa, who sur rounded it with a wall of fortification, uniting it with Acra to the west, and Moriah, the site of the temple, to the south.

Many gardens of olives, of pomegranates, and palms, were scat tered around this hill, — some in their natural state of growth, others enclosed by walls. The grove into which Æsop entered was gloomy in the extreme. The tall palm trees, and prickly pomegranates, were so closely united as to exclude the smallest ray of the brilliant moon, that flooded with light the grounds he had left. There was no noise around, not the least stir of life, for this part of the suburbs was seldom visited, and then only in day time, and by pri vileged persons, perhaps owing to its contiguity to one of the royal palaces. The place how ever seemed well known to Æsop. He did not hesitate to force his way through the most in tricate part of the grove ; a difficult task from the thick underwood. Though a beaten path now and then crossed his route, he did not take it, but descended the hill at right angles to the way which he had first taken.

This was in the direction of Acra. After a few minutes' walk he emerged from the grove, passed another temporary bridge, and ascended a steep road which led from the valley to the wall that bounded the Lower Market-place. Whether from fatigue, or some other motive, he seated himself on a clump of felled trees that lay near the wall. Then undoing the ' pheer' or fillet that bound his headcloth, he was engaged for some time in wiping the profuse perspiration from his face, adjusting his dress, and sleeking his long black hair, with an earnestness as if life had no more important occupation for him. The moon shone full upon him, and disclosed features well worthy the noble race from which he A TALE had said he was descended. His age seemingly was between twenty -five and thirty years. His form was tall and large, but without any of that redundancy of flesh which distinguishes inactive men.

His appearance had something in it which said that toil was familiar to him. His countenance was darkly bronzed, perhaps the effect of his country — Egypt ; perhaps from an early exposure to weather of every descrip tion. His eye was dark and deep-set, and it often shot forth rays of anger, of fierceness, and of daring, from beneath its high and thick arched brows. It was however, now, gentle and calm. His forehead was high and broad. His entire head spoke of decision and intellect. His nose was large and aquiline. His mouth was the most remarkable feature of his face. The expression of its full lips would denote, if the other features corresponded, a voluptuary in the extreme. But this they did not tell, for the intellec tual and noble expression of the other features, denied this character to their possessor.

How difficult it is to decide the character of a man from one or two features, however strongly they be marked. Good humour seemed the predominant expression of his lower countenance, but there was y7et something about the mouth that gave it the character of scorn or of pride. His countenance on the whole denoted an intelligent, daring, vindictive, but still a magnanimous man. " Ha ! this up and down hill travelling would be fatiguing to a man of less strength than I," he murmured, or rather thought aloud, as he gathered his hair under the fillet of linen that concealed its colour and length, ' ' we must have these valleys filled up and built upon, if it be only to give employment to the idle, who go about busy with all affairs but their own. As the Lord liveth, it is a good thought, though a sudden one, to throw a bone of little meat to barking dogs.

Before next moon there shall be a change here." After having taken great precaution to con ceal his person, for he had bound the fillet A TALE lower on his forehead, and had gathered his large cloak high upon his face, he leaned him self against a buttress of the wall. He appeared to await the coming of some person whom he anxiously expected. Some minutes passed in silence, and then he became restless. " Ha, the Ethiopian dog !" he exclaimed in an under tone of impatience, starting from his reclining posture, and advancing with rapid steps towards the gateway, " Some accident must have happened to him, else he would have been here before this. The other slave left the Palace a halfwatch since." Just as he had approached within a few steps of the gate, a tall figure came from the dark recess beneath it, and stood opposite to him. u Why hast thou tarried, Ethiopian?" asked the Egyptian angrily of the stranger.

The person addressed was a tall man, tall as the questioner himself, but black as negro could be. His eyes opened wide, and his lips started far asunder, both displaying a striking contrast* of white, with the blackness of his glossy skin. He bowed lowly, and then made some signs with his fingers which the Egyptian seemed to understand. " Only that I think thee a faithful slave, thou wouldst often suffer by thy delays. Thou hast seen him enter the house ?" The Nubian made an affirmative sign. "Thinkest thou I could be known in this disguise, Fabatus?" "Well, I understand thee better, and trustest in thee more, than if thou hadst a tongue. It is well for thee thou hast been maimed, Fabatus — thy7 imperfection giveth me more confidence in thy fidelity. Hear, follow me at a little distance — I know thou hast an eye like an eagle's — thou canst not lose me in the city crowd.

Enter not with me into the house, but without appearance of watch, keep watch wary, and constant. If thou hearest noise of weapons give alarm to the nearest sentinel — yet not, unless he be a Latin. Thou canst beckon forth the cohort that guards Helena's palace — it is only a few yards from the house — thou dost know it ? c5 A. TALE They will obey thee. I fear I shall want their aid, for I hear that there are some desperate men among those conspirators." The Ethiopian made a sign that he under stood, and was obedient. He followed his apparent master through the dark arch to the city Acra. After passing through the entrance without a challenge from the guard — an unusual neglect — they crossed a paved court yard, flanked by high and strong towers — the dwellings of the soldiers — and ascending a dozen large steps, they entered through a second covered passage, into a narrow street.

The place about them was silent. A few lights, here and there, shone from opened casements ; but all else was gloomy. The Egyptian waited at the end of the street for his companion, who was a short distance behind, and giving him some further directions, he proceeded at a rapid pace, through the higher street, which led to the centre of Acra. During ten minutes quick walking, they traversed many streets, all nearly of the same character with the first they had entered,. except that the higherthey ascended, the' more life, in the form of business and pleasure,. surrounded them. At length they7 entered the principal street of this division of Jerusalem, which was inhabited generally by the Mer chants of Wool,and those immediately connected' with their trade. It was a broad paved wayy passing through the city Acra, from north to south, and united in a straight line with the main street, leading to the city Zion — commonly called "the Upper Market Place "—as this was designated " the Lower Market Flaee.-,, There was nothing in the architecture of this street differing from those they had left,. except that the houses were more extensive,, higher, and more generally ornamented.

The latter character of them was displayed. in the red and y7ellow tiling ofthe facades of some, in the marble, or wood painted buttresses' of others, and in the adjusting balconies, with highly carved balustrades of nearly all. The' street was irregularly separated' into little5 A TALE squares, at the sides of which, lanes and small streets branched off. In those small streets were placed the stores of the merchants, the dwellings of the clerks and labourers, the work: booths ofthe dyers, fullers, weavers, and others connected with the trade of wool. However, the street, though principally, was not entirely, inhabited by merchants. Many houses of dark marble, from the elegance, spaciousness, and strength of their architecture, and from the order, dress, and number of their servants, now and then appearing — proved that there were civil and military persons above the grade of traffickers, who had chosen this locality as the site of their mansions.

None of the Princes, or great nobles of Jerusalem, dwelled here. Their palaces, and those of the chief officers of" the court, were situated in the Upper City. Still a residence among the merchants of wool — an important body of men, on account of their number, their wealth, and commercial influence — held forth many advantages to the lesser nobles, and poorer officers. Some of the latter secretly speculated on the traffic of those merchants, though it was far from dis honourable to be openly a man of trade or of traffic — as some of princely blood had been Tradesmen — and gained by it. Others found they could live more freely here, with less form, and consequently with less expense, than in the Upper City. As the Egyptian and Ethiop entered the street, many of the booths or stores beneath the dwelling part of the houses were being shut.

The watchman of the city had cried out that the second watch of the night had commenced — at that time of the year, corresponding to -our nine of the clock. This was not late, then in Jerusalem, but it was time to close the stores and warehouses. The Egyptian slackened his pace when he entered the street, so did the Ethiopian, directing his actions by the slightest change of his master's conduct. The path-ways on both sides of the street were crowded with people ; most of them were persons who had been. A TALE employed in the shops and stores, now hasten ing to their homes, or wending their way, — soine in groups, others singly — to the east and south for the purposes of amusement or of business. There was light enough to distinguish she features of the passers-by. The moon shone full upon the street, except patches here and there thrown into shade by buildings encroach ing on the highway7, or loftier than those around them.

The Egyptian walked leisurely on, observing furtively the features of every person who passed by. He continued in this manner for some minutes towards the north termination of the street, until he was met ort she path by a tall' figure, for whom all the passers heretofore had made way7. The Egyp tian for an instant seemed irresolute, to yield the path to the stranger, by moving in a circle to his left — an admission of inferiority, or of great respect on his part. However, he yielded it without moving to the distance which the pompous walk and rich dress of the figure seemed to demand. He stood, whilst the latter passed, and examined his countenance closely. He allowed two slaves, or servants that at tended the great man, to pass him before he stirred, and theu, after a moment's deliberation,, he quickly turned and followed. she person whose steps the Egyptian seemed to dog, was habited in au ample garment of purple, without ornament, except its deep fringe of silk and gold thread, of alternate work, that reached from mid-leg to the latches of his sandal.

He wore a high helmet-like turban or bonnet, having a deep Phylactery in front,. bound with a purple band. There was nothing else remarkable about his dress, but the broad ' Taffila,' or roll of parchment on his left arm. His carriage and air betokened his exalted opinion of his own importance. He might be one of the officers of the King's household, who, found so far from the palace, and at such a late hour without disguise, had attracted Æsop's attention, and induced him to watch whither he was going, — a natural cu riosity in fellow-servants. All others who met A TALE him — and this was the most probable conjec ture — had believed him to be some High Doc tor of the Law, of the popular sect of the Pharisees, from the depth of his phylactery and fringe — from his precise head-dress, and from the importance of his gait.

Of all the sects of the Jews — aud they were many, — Sadducees, Essenes, Pharisees, Hero dians, Keroites, and other minor ones, the Pha risees, though the most pompous in manner and speech, aud the most haughty and proud, were the most popular, because their extreme reverence for the law on its smallest points, their almost'superstitious observance of the tra ditions of their fathers, their acts of self-denial, of devotion, and charity, though ostentatious, produced an apparent sanctity of manners, and easily induced the multitude, who judged the entire merit of religion to consist of ceremonial observance, to believe them sincerely pious and religious, and consequently to respect them. The officer of the King's household, or Rabbin of the law, as he might be, turned into the nearest street to the left, went down a little distance, and entered an open porch of a large house, grander in its outward appearance, and better lighted than those surrounding it.

Just as he was stepping from the porch to the hall, a voice, at which he started, whispered in his ear, "Manetho ! thou should' st not be here ! If thou plannest evil thou didst choose ill a night of light. Thou shouldst have prudence, and have flown whither the eye of thy master could not reach thee." He turned quickly and tremblingly. There was no one near him except his servants, and an old porter of the house seated in a recess of the hall. Without saying a word, not even questioning his slaves, he rushed from the place into the streets, and with garments gathered closely around him, and with an ir reverent haste, which caused many persons to stop and wonder, he walked rapidly in the di rection of the house of Judas, situated to the' A TALE extreme north of the street of the Wool merchants: We will not say what feelings Were excited by the words of the unknown speaker.

But after the stranger's sudden haste was relaxed by a little reflection and the length of his walk, he ventured to stop and look behind. None Were near but his servants, who had felt it difficult to keep up with him. He dismissed them, and turning from the street he entered a dark covered passage. He knocked with repeated quick blows, at the first door of the entry, and on its opening, as he was going in, he was held by the garment, and he heard the same voice that had addressed him before. " Manetho, I will enter with thee, and hear those who speak treason against the King !" He turned and saw our Egyptian confronting him. Only for a moment did he pause in aston ishment, and then quickly prostrating himself in the form of a suppliant, he uttered. "The Lord save !" "Hush," interrupted the Egyptian, "not now, Pharisee, I would enter with thee with out bein 2; known."

"There is danger to thee," said Manetho. Oz J " thou canst not my ." " I will have it thus!" interrupted the Egyp tian. " Thou canst not prevent me, now. I go tinder thy protection, even as one of thy friend*." Mauethu made no remonstrance. It appeared to him useless, from the determined voice of the Egyptian to whom he paid a submission,. mysterious from its great humility. Manetho was a leader of the powerful sect of the Pharisees. He had arisen from one of the lowest stations to his present importance, by lus flattery, and insinuating manner. He was clever, but his cleverness was the cunning of a selfish mind. He was agreeable to every party, unless when the peculiar tenets of his sect would be compromised. He was con- A TALE stantly watching to take advantage of the talents, or of the weakness of others, for the purpose of promoting his own religious ambition. In every other respect he was a ' Pharisee of Pharisees,' in mind and in manner.

Chapter III

The Pharisee ascended a double balustrade, leading to the hall, or meeting-room, on the second story. His step was hurried, and his manner agi tated, wonderfully differing from his usual pompous and slow gait. At a peculiar knock, the first door on the lobby was opened to him, throwing a brilliant light upon the dimmed staircase, and shewing to the Egyptian long corridors on the right and left, from which opened various rooms. "Thou wilt remain here for a moment!" whispered the Pharisee in the Egyptian's ear, with an imploring tone and look. "If thou dost enter without permission thou shalt be A TALE discovered. I will seek leave for thee as a tried friend of mine." " Well, be it so, but do it quickly, Pharisee. Thou knowest I desire not to be discovered," said the Egyptian in a sharp voice.

"Hear, Manetho — let not my presence prevent thee to say that which thou hast prepared to speak to night. It can do uo injury7 to thee nor to me. I know already thy sentiments. What thou wilt say7 on this evening shall be no witness against thee. I desire to know, and I must know, from their own mouths the feelings of one or two of thy friends whom I trust not. I must hear those speak as when they speak to friends in confidence — thou understandest." " I will obey," was the reply. The Egyptian was obliged to remain longer than he had expected. He heard voices from within, raised as if in warm dispute. At length the door opened, and the Pharisee appeared on the threshold. " The council have admitted thee as a friend. I have promised for thy fidelity," he said, leading the Egyptian to the centre of the hall.

"Peace be to thee, brother; be thou seated," said a solemn, deep voice from the upper part of the room. The Pharisee pointed to a bench, on which two others were reclining, and placed himself next to the Egyptian. The Hall, or more properly the Room, was long and wide, capable of affording reclining space to three hundred persons. Judas, the son of Sarapheus, — the owner of the house — had it built for the purpose of a lecture-room. As he was esteemed not only eloquent, but observant of the law, and honourable, his house was attended at the hours of lecturing, by the young and the old, of the most noble families of Jerusalem. A Cathedra, or in this instance, a chair, was raised on a small plat form, at the further end of the room. This was the seat of the President, or Teacher. Thence a long narrow table ran through the centre, surrounded by a triple row of forms or benches for the auditors.

The ceiling was formed of roughlycarved wood, without ornament A TALE whatsoever, supported by grotesque pillars. There was no attempt or exhibition of taste, either in the material or finish of any thing connected with the place. It was a type of the mind of its projector and owner — strong and useful, without ornament. The Egyptian, when he was seated, gathered his robe higher about his face to conceal it. This, however, was not necessary, even were it of the utmost consequence to him to remain unknown ; for none of the persons, before or around him, seemed disposed to examine his features. If they were disposed, his position — being on the back tier of benches — prevented their examination of his features- He himself could see the countenances of many of the assembly, and distinguish the forms of all.

A strong light filling the room, from sconces around the wall, and from branched candlesticks, placed at regular distances along the table, made this easy to him. It would appear that the company, however secret they intended their consultations to be, sought not the concealment of their persons. The established etiquette of the Jews' reverence and respect for superiors, and towards each other, did not require them to bare the head. Still, it was often done for comfort sake, and, on the present occasion, most of the persons assembled, had placed their turbans and bonnets on the table. The Egyptian and Pharisee were the only persons of the assembly whose features were entirely concealed beneath their head coverings. The Egyptian, as is already known, wished not to be recognised, and the Pharisee, perhaps, desired to hide the pale colour and agitated expression of his face, which had been remarked by some of his friends on his first entrance.

For this purpose, he drew over his forehead and brows the broad fillet of his deep mortar-like turban, — a head covering that distinguished the most contem plative of his sect. The Egyptian threw a hurried but keen glance around him. The faces of some were familiar to him. He appeared to be indifferent VOL. I. D A TALE about their presence, after recognising them. Not so regarding others ; among whom was an old man, with beard and hair white as snow, who occupied the seat next to the President's. The Egyptian's dark eyes, after traversing the room, rested again upon the form of this old man. He could not see his features, as he never once raised his head from the recumbent posture he held when the Egyptian entered. There were about thirty persons in the room, " no insignificant number," thought Æsop, — for he knew many of them to be the chiefs of the different sects — political and religious — of the Jews.

" Well, I suppose I must treasure up all the good doctrine I shall hear," he muttered, sarcastically, and in a tone a little louder than he intended. His companion started, and looked uneasy. "At what dost thou move so quickly, Pharisee ?" asked the Egyptian in a sharp under voice. " Would'st thou that I speak ?" " No, no ! — our God forbid !" whispered the trembling Pharisee. " Well then,— Ha ! Judas speaketh." Judas who occupied the chair of Presidency, was a strong-built man of middle age. There was nothing remarkable in the expression of his features, when they were at rest ; but when he spoke — especially on a subject pertaining to the welfare of his nation — his features were suddenly lighted up. He was a popular speaker, but this proceeded from his earnestness, and acknowledged sincerity.

His voice was deep and sonorous, varied with occasional quick and sharp tones. His action corresponded to the earnestness of his voice, and the animated ex pression of his face; even it often preceded them. He was a speaker who could please, and move a multitude, however heterogeneous their dispositions or feelings. On account of these qualities he was allowed to be the first orator of Judea, though not the first philosopher, or the first doctor of the law. Credit for sincerity not given to others, more eloquent, was given A TALB to him, though he was not remarkable for soundness of political or religious views. " Brethren, men of Jerusalem," he spoke at first, solemnly and coldly, but warming with his subject, his action became animated ; his voice at one time deeply entoned, again was loud and shrill.

His entire manner of delivery was impressive, though there was nothing forced or unnatural in his declamation, even when he spoke in the highest feehng of excite ment. "Men of Judea, Children of the Patri archs, and of the Prophets, Chiefs of the law of the Hebrew people, I rejoice that my humble school witnesseth, by your ready assembling on this night, your zeal for the religion of your forefathers. This thought maketh me bold to speak my feelings without fear, on a subject dear to my heart. I see around me the learned Saducee ; the exemplary and pious Pharisee ; the zealous Karæite ; the mortified and holy Es sene ; even the aged and virtuous Hillel Hassa ken, the Oracle of our law ; — all forgetting for a time the speculative and abstract doctrines which separate them, and uniting their wisdom to avert the evils that threaten the faith of Is rael in these days of wickedness.