Through the tree-tops shone the outer fronts of the palace.
Turning to the right, the party proceeded a short distance to a
spacious square, on the west side of which stood the residence of
the governor. An excited multitude filled the square. Every face
was directed towards a portico built over a broad doorway which
was closed. Under the portico there was another array of legionaries.
The throng was so close the friends could not well have advanced
if such had been their desire; they remained therefore in the rear,
observers of what was going on. About the portico they could see the
high turbans of the rabbis, whose impatience communicated at times
to the mass behind them; a cry was frequent to the effect "Pilate,
if thou be a governor, come forth, come forth!"
Once a man coming out pushed through the crowd, his face red with
anger.
"Israel is of no account here," he said, in a loud voice. "On this
holy ground we are no better than dogs of Rome."
"Will he not come out, think you?"
"Come? Has he not thrice refused?"
"What will the rabbis do?"
"As at Caesarea—camp here till he gives them ear."
"He will not dare touch the treasure, will he?" asked one of the
Galileans.
"Who can say? Did not a Roman profane the Holy of Holies? Is there
anything sacred from Romans?"
An hour passed, and though Pilate deigned them no answer, the rabbis
and crowd remained. Noon came, bringing a shower from the west,
but no change in the situation, except that the multitude was
larger and much noisier, and the feeling more decidedly angry.
The shouting was almost continuous, Come forth, come forth! The cry
was sometimes with disrespectful variations. Meanwhile Ben-Hur held
his Galilean friends together. He judged the pride of the Roman
would eventually get the better of his discretion, and that the
end could not be far off. Pilate was but waiting for the people
to furnish him an excuse for resort to violence.
And at last the end came. In the midst of the assemblage there
was heard the sound of blows, succeeded instantly by yells of
pain and rage, and a most furious commotion. The venerable men
in front of the portico faced about aghast. The common people in
the rear at first pushed forward; in the centre, the effort was
to get out; and for a short time the pressure of opposing forces
was terrible. A thousand voices made inquiry, raised all at once;
as no one had time to answer, the surprise speedily became a panic.
Ben-Hur kept his senses.
"You cannot see?" he said to one of the Galileans.
"No."
"I will raise you up."
He caught the man about the middle, and lifted him bodily.
"What is it?"
"I see now," said the man. "There are some armed with clubs, and they
are beating the people. They are dressed like Jews."
"Who are they?"
"Romans, as the Lord liveth! Romans in disguise. Their clubs fly
like flails! There, I saw a rabbi struck down—an old man! They
spare nobody!"
Ben-Hur let the man down.
"Men of Galilee," he said, "it is a trick of Pilate's. Now, will you
do what I say, we will get even with the club-men."
The Galilean spirit arose.
"Yes, yes!" they answered.
"Let us go back to the trees by the gate, and we may find the
planting of Herod, though unlawful, has some good in it after
all. Come!"
They ran back all of them fast as they could; and, by throwing
their united weight upon the limbs, tore them from the trunks.
In a brief time they, too, were armed. Returning, at the corner of
the square they met the crowd rushing madly for the gate. Behind,
the clamor continued—a medley of shrieks, groans, and execrations.
"To the wall!" Ben-Hur shouted. "To the wall!—and let the herd
go by!"
So, clinging to the masonry at their right hand, they escaped the
might of the rush, and little by little made headway until, at last,
the square was reached.
"Keep together now, and follow me!"
By this time Ben-Hur's leadership was perfect; and as he pushed
into the seething mob his party closed after him in a body.
And when the Romans, clubbing the people and making merry as
they struck them down, came hand to hand with the Galileans,
lithe of limb, eager for the fray, and equally armed, they were
in turn surprised. Then the shouting was close and fierce; the
crash of sticks rapid and deadly; the advance furious as hate
could make it. No one performed his part as well as Ben-Hur,
whose training served him admirably; for, not merely he knew to
strike and guard; his long arm, perfect action, and incomparable
strength helped him, also, to success in every encounter. He was
at the same time fighting-man and leader. The club he wielded was of
goodly length and weighty, so he had need to strike a man but once.
He seemed, moreover, to have eyes for each combat of his friends,
and the faculty of being at the right moment exactly where he was
most needed. In his fighting cry there were inspiration for his
party and alarm for his enemies. Thus surprised and equally matched,
the Romans at first retired, but finally turned their backs and fled
to the portico. The impetuous Galileans would have pursued them to
the steps, but Ben-Hur wisely restrained them.
"Stay, my men!" he said. "The centurion yonder is coming with
the guard. They have swords and shields; we cannot fight them.
We have done well; let us get back and out of the gate while
we may."
They obeyed him, though slowly; for they had frequently to step over
their countrymen lying where they had been felled; some writhing and
groaning, some praying help, others mute as the dead. But the fallen
were not all Jews. In that there was consolation.
The centurion shouted to them as they went off; Ben-Hur laughed
at him, and replied in his own tongue, "If we are dogs of Israel,
you are jackals of Rome. Remain here, and we will come again."
The Galileans cheered, and laughing went on.
Outside the gate there was a multitude the like of which Ben-Hur
had never seen, not even in the circus at Antioch. The house-tops,
the streets, the slope of the hill, appeared densely covered with
people wailing and praying. The air was filled with their cries
and imprecations.
The party were permitted to pass without challenge by the outer
guard. But hardly were they out before the centurion in charge
at the portico appeared, and in the gateway called to Ben-Hur,
"Ho, insolent! Art thou a Roman or a Jew?"
Ben-Hur answered, "I am a son of Judah, born here. What wouldst
thou with me?"
"Stay and fight."
"Singly?"
"As thou wilt!"
Ben-Hur laughed derisively.
"O brave Roman! Worthy son of the bastard Roman Jove! I have no
arms."
"Thou shalt have mine," the centurion answered. "I will borrow of
the guard here."
The people in hearing of the colloquy became silent; and from them
the hush spread afar. But lately Ben-Hur had beaten a Roman under
the eyes of Antioch and the Farther East; now, could he beat another
one under the eyes of Jerusalem, the honor might be vastly profitable
to the cause of the New King. He did not hesitate. Going frankly to
the centurion, he said, "I am willing. Lend me thy sword and shield."
"And the helm and breastplate?" asked the Roman.
"Keep them. They might not fit me."
The arms were as frankly delivered, and directly the centurion
was ready. All this time the soldiers in rank close by the gate
never moved; they simply listened. As to the multitude, only when
the combatants advanced to begin the fight the question sped from
mouth to mouth, "Who is he?" And no one knew.
Now the Roman supremacy in arms lay in three things—submission to
discipline, the legionary formation of battle, and a peculiar use
of the short sword. In combat, they never struck or cut; from first
to last they thrust—they advanced thrusting, they retired thrusting;
and generally their aim was at the foeman's face. All this was well known
to Ben-Hur. As they were about to engage he said,
"I told thee I was a son of Judah; but I did not tell that I am
lanista-taught. Defend thyself!"
At the last word Ben-Hur closed with his antagonist. A moment,
standing foot to foot, they glared at each other over the rims
of their embossed shields; then the Roman pushed forward and
feinted an under-thrust. The Jew laughed at him. A thrust at the
face followed. The Jew stepped lightly to the left; quick as the
thrust was, the step was quicker. Under the lifted arm of the foe
he slid his shield, advancing it until the sword and sword-arm were
both caught on its upper surface; another step, this time forward
and left, and the man's whole right side was offered to the point.
The centurion fell heavily on his breast, clanging the pavement,
and Ben-Hur had won. With his foot upon his enemy's back, he raised
his shield overhead after a gladiatorial custom, and saluted the
imperturbable soldiers by the gate.
When the people realized the victory they behaved like mad.
On the houses far as the Xystus, fast as the word could fly,
they waved their shawls and handkerchiefs and shouted; and if he
had consented, the Galileans would have carried Ben-Hur off upon
their shoulders.
To a petty officer who then advanced from the gate he said, "Thy
comrade died like a soldier. I leave him undespoiled. Only his
sword and shield are mine."
With that, he walked away. Off a little he spoke to the Galileans.
"Brethren, you have behaved well. Let us now separate, lest we be
pursued. Meet me to-night at the khan in Bethany. I have something
to propose to you of great interest to Israel."
"Who are you?" they asked him.
"A son of Judah," he answered, simply.
A throng eager to see him surged around the party.
"Will you come to Bethany?" he asked.
"Yes, we will come."
"Then bring with you this sword and shield that I may know you."
Pushing brusquely through the increasing crowd, he speedily
disappeared.
At the instance of Pilate, the people went up from the city, and
carried off their dead and wounded, and there was much mourning
for them; but the grief was greatly lightened by the victory of
the unknown champion, who was everywhere sought, and by every
one extolled. The fainting spirit of the nation was revived
by the brave deed; insomuch that in the streets and up in the
Temple even, amidst the solemnities of the feast, old tales of
the Maccabees were told again, and thousands shook their heads
whispering wisely,
"A little longer, only a little longer, brethren, and Israel will
come to her own. Let there be faith in the Lord, and patience."
In such manner Ben-Hur obtained hold on Galilee, and paved the
way to greater services in the cause of the King Who Was Coming.
And with what result we shall see.
"And, waking, I beheld her there
Sea-dreaming in the moted air,
A siren lithe and debonair,
With wristlets woven of scarlet weeds,
And oblong lucent amber beads
Of sea-kelp shining in her hair."
THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH.
The meeting took place in the khan of Bethany as appointed.
Thence Ben-Hur went with the Galileans into their country,
where his exploits up in the old Market-place gave him fame and
influence. Before the winter was gone he raised three legions,
and organized them after the Roman pattern. He could have had
as many more, for the martial spirit of that gallant people
never slept. The proceeding, however, required careful guarding
as against both Rome and Herod Antipas. Contenting himself for
the present with the three, he strove to train and educate them
for systematic action. For that purpose he carried the officers
over into the lava-beds of Trachonitis, and taught them the use
of arms, particularly the javelin and sword, and the manoeuvering
peculiar to the legionary formation; after which he sent them home
as teachers. And soon the training became a pastime of the people.
As may be thought, the task called for patience, skill, zeal, faith,
and devotion on his part—qualities into which the power of inspiring
others in matters of difficulty is always resolvable; and never man
possessed them in greater degree or used them to better effect. How he
labored! And with utter denial of self! Yet withal he would have
failed but for the support he had from Simonides, who furnished
him arms and money, and from Ilderim, who kept watch and brought
him supplies. And still he would have failed but for the genius
of the Galileans.
Under that name were comprehended the four tribes—Asher, Zebulon,
Issachar, and Naphthali—and the districts originally set apart to
them. The Jew born in sight of the Temple despised these brethren
of the north; but the Talmud itself has said, "The Galilean loves
honor, and the Jew money."
Hating Rome fervidly as they loved their own country, in every
revolt they were first in the field and last to leave it.
One hundred and fifty thousand Galilean youths perished in
the final war with Rome. For the great festal days, they went
up to Jerusalem marching and camping like armies; yet they were
liberal in sentiment, and even tolerant to heathenism. In Herod's
beautiful cities, which were Roman in all things, in Sepphoris and
Tiberias especially, they took pride, and in the building them gave
loyal support. They had for fellow-citizens men from the outside
world everywhere, and lived in peace with them. To the glory of
the Hebrew name they contributed poets like the singer of the
Song of Songs and prophets like Hosea.
Upon such a people, so quick, so proud, so brave, so devoted,
so imaginative, a tale like that of the coming of the King
was all-powerful. That he was coming to put Rome down would have
been sufficient to enlist them in the scheme proposed by Ben-Hur;
but when, besides, they were assured he was to rule the world,
more mighty than Caesar, more magnificent than Solomon, and that
the rule was to last forever, the appeal was irresistible, and they
vowed themselves to the cause body and soul. They asked Ben-Hur his
authority for the sayings, and he quoted the prophets, and told them
of Balthasar in waiting over in Antioch; and they were satisfied,
for it was the old much-loved legend of the Messiah, familiar to
them almost as the name of the Lord; the long-cherished dream
with a time fixed for its realization. The King was not merely
coming now; he was at hand.