Hebrew Heroes: A Tale Founded on Jewish History

  CHAPTER XXXVI.

  BETHSURA.

  Her brief but momentous interview with Maccabeus had left a verypainful impression upon the mind of Zarah. It had disclosed, to herdistress as well as surprise, the depth of the wound which she wasinflicting upon a loving heart; for Zarah had none of that miserablevanity which makes the meaner of her sex triumph in their power ofgiving pain. Zarah's apprehensions were also awakened on account ofLycidas; she could not but fear that very serious obstacles might ariseto prevent her union with the Greek. Generous as Maccabeus might be,it was not in human nature that he should favour the claims of a rival;and determined opposition from her kinsman and prince must beannihilation to the hopes of the maiden. There would be in many Jewishminds prejudices against an Athenian; Zarah was aware of this, thoughnot of the intense hatred to which such prejudices might lead. Theshort interview held with Maccabeus had sufficed to cover Zarah'sbright sky with clouds, to darken her hopes, to distress herconscience, to make her uneasily question herself as to whether shewere indeed erring by giving her heart to a stranger. Had she reallyspoken truth when she had said, "Hadassah would not have blamed us?"

  But when Anna, pale with excitement, brought tidings to her youngmistress that the Hebrews were marching to battle, when Zarah heardthat the decisive hour had come on which hung the fate of her country,and with it that of Lycidas, all other fears yielded for a time to oneabsorbing terror. On her knees, with hands clasped in attitude ofprayer, yet scarcely able to pray, Zarah listened breathlessly to thefearful sounds which were borne on the breeze--the confused noises, theyells, the shouting--which brought vividly to her mind all the horrorsof the scene passing so near her. It was not needful for her to lookon the raging torrent of war; imagination but too readily pictured thestreams of opposing warriors, like floods from opposite mountains,mingling and struggling together in a wild whirlpool of death; chariotsdragged by maddened horses over gory heaps of the slain--the flight ofhurtling arrows--the whirl of the deadly axe--the crash--the cry--therush--the retreat--the rally--the flashing weapons, now dimmed withblood;--Zarah in thought beheld them all, and covered her eyes withhorror, as if by so doing she could shut out the sight.

  For hours this agony lasted. The excitement of conflict may bear bravehearts through a battle with little sense of horror and none of fear;warriors, even the generous and humane, can see and do things in hotblood, from which their souls would revolt in calmer moments; but thewoman whose earthly happiness is on the cast of the die, who cannotshield the being dearest to her upon earth from the crushing blow orthe deadly thrust, to her the day of battle is one of unmixed anguish;suspense is agony, and yet she dreads to exchange that suspense forknowledge which might bring agony more intolerable still.

  The maiden found some slight alleviation of her distress in theoccupation in which she and her handmaid engaged, that of making suchpreparations as circumstances permitted for the comfort of the wounded,though they knew too well that if the Syrians should win the day, therewould be no wounded Hebrews to tend--the conqueror's sword would toothoroughly do its hideous work.

  Judas Maccabeus had displayed his accustomed judgment in choosing to behimself the assailant, instead of awaiting the assault of the myrmidonsof Syria. His sudden, unexpected attack threw the enemy into someconfusion, and gave an advantage in the commencement of the battle tothe slender forces of the Hebrew prince. His men rushed to theconflict as those assured of success. Had they not measured swordswith the warriors of Apollonius and Seron, and more recently those ofBacchides? Had they not scattered the thousands of Nicanor, and madeGiorgias seek safety in ignominious retreat? Was not Maccabeus theirleader, and saw they not the light flashing from his helmet in thefore-front of the battle? Yet was the struggle obstinate; and when theSyrians were at last forced to retire before the Hebrew heroes, anumber of the troops of Lysias threw themselves into the fortress ofBethsura, to rally their forces behind its walls, and gather strengthto renew the combat on the following day.

  But it was no part of the plan of their active adversary to leave sucha rallying-point to the Syrians, or suffer them from thence to harasshis rear, should he press onwards towards Jerusalem. His victory mustnot be incomplete, Bethsura must be his ere darkness should put an endto the conflict.

  "See you yon Syrian banner waving from the tower," criedMaccabeus,--"who will be the first to tear it down?"

  He was answered by a shout from his men. "To the walls! to the walls!"as the Hebrews pressed hard upon their retreating foes.

  Bethsura was not a place of much strength, though the height of itstowers gave to their defenders the power to annoy and distressassailants with a shower of arrows and other missiles as they rushed tothe assault. Maccabeus, foreseeing that Bethsura itself must becomethe scene of the closing struggle, had had scaling-ladders inreadiness, roughly constructed by his own men from trees hewn down bytheir battle-axes. With cries and shouts these were now borne onwardstowards the bulwarks of Bethsura, and notwithstanding the fierceopposition of the Syrians, two of them were planted against the wall.Who would mount them, who would be the first to climb upwards throughthe death-shower of darts, the first to meet the fierce downward blowsand thrusts of those who stood to the defence of the beleagueredfortress?

  Lycidas had borne himself bravely in the battle, he had well maintainedthe honour of the land that had withstood the gigantic power of Xerxes;now his foot was the first on one of the ladders. It was a perilousmoment. The rough spar, with branches fastened transversely atintervals across it, on which Lycidas was mounting (for the ladder waslittle more than this), swayed backwards and forwards with the strugglebetween those above to fling it down, and those below to sustain it,and it was with extreme difficulty that the climber could keep hisfooting. Stones and arrows rattled on the shield which the young Greekheld with one arm above his head, as he used the other in climbing; butLycidas neither flinched nor paused.

  "Well done--bravely done!" shouted the Hebrews who were rushing on frombehind.

  "He is no Gentile, though he be a Greek!" cried the wild shrill voiceof Jasher; "onwards, upwards, warriors of Judah! one struggle more, andBethsura is ours!"

  Almost at the top of the ladder, almost close to the wall, gasping,straining, bleeding, struggles on the young Greek. A stone strikes hisshield, smashes it, stuns, disables the left arm which upheld it; slainby a dart, the Hebrew just behind him falls crashing from the ladder!The brain of Lycidas is dizzy, his ears are filled with wild clamour,he is conscious only that honour and most probably death are beforehim, still he mounts, he mounts! Two powerful Syrians have seized theupper end of the ladder; with an effort of gigantic strength theythrust it back from the supporting wall with its living burden ofclambering men, all but one, the foremost! Lycidas feels the ladderbeneath him failing, with a tremendous effort of agility he springs asit falls at the wall, catches hold of it with his right hand, andflings himself up on the parapet. But not one moment's breathing-spaceis given him to start to his feet, or grasp the sword which he hascarried hung round his neck. He cannot rise, he cannot resist; swordsare gleaming above him; those who have thrown down the ladder seize theGreek to hurl him after it! A thought of Zarah flashes across thereeling brain of the young man, is it not his last?--no, a broad shieldis suddenly thrust between Lycidas and his assailants, they shrink backfrom the sweep of a terrible sword; up the other ladder the strong andbrave have pressed with irresistible force; Judas Maccabeus himself hasplanted his foot on the bulwarks, has driven back step by step theirdefenders before him, and has arrived at this crisis in the fate ofLycidas to preserve for the third time the life of his rival!

  The banner of Maccabeus is planted on the highest tower of Bethsura,and as it waves in the light of the evening sun, such a loud wild shoutof triumph rises from the victors, as might be heard for miles around!It reaches Zarah in her hut, and sends a thrill of hope and exultationthrough her heart, for she knows the shout of her people, and none butconquerors could have rent the
air with such a cheer as that! It isfollowed by the cry "Jerusalem, Jerusalem!" as from the Hebrew heroes,in that their hour of success, bursts that name of all earthly namesmost dear to the sons of Israel! Jerusalem, their mother, will befree, her liberty from a galling yoke will be the crowning reward oftheir labours and perils, no foe will now dare to oppose theconqueror's onward march towards the holy city.

  Maccabeus joins in the shout, and shares in the exultation; he trampleshis own private griefs under his feet, that they may cast no gloom overthe triumph which God has vouchsafed to the arms of his people. Theprince raises his helmed head and his victorious right arm towardsheaven, and cries aloud, not with pride, but with glad thanksgiving,"Behold! our enemies are discomfited! Let us go up to cleanse anddedicate the sanctuary of Zion!"