by A. L. O. E.
CHAPTER XVI.
BATTLE Of EMMAUS.
But the struggle was not to be deferred the morning.
Night had just spread her veil of darkness over earth, and Simon,prudently reserving his strength for the expected fatigues of thecoming day, had wrapped himself in his mantle, and stretched himself onthe ground to snatch some hours of repose, when he was roused by thetouch of a hand on his shoulder. Opening his eyes, Simon saw, by thered light of a torch, which the armour-bearer of Judas was holdingaloft, that Maccabeus was before him.
"Awake, arise, my brother; this is no time for sleep," said the leader.Simon was on his feet in a moment, an attentive listener, as Maccabeuscontinued: "A scout has just brought in tidings from the Syrian campthat Nicanor has detached five thousand of his foot-soldiers and athousand chosen horsemen, under the command of Giorgias, to attack usthis night, and take us by surprise."
"They will find us prepared," said Simon, as he girded on his sword.
"Nay; they will find their prey flown," replied Maccabeus, his featuresrelaxing into a stern smile; "we will fall on the Syrian camp in theirabsence, teach the enemy his own lesson, and transfer the surprise toour foes."
"Well thought of!" exclaimed Simon; "darkness also will serve to hidethe weakness of our force."
"Our brethren are now marshalling our warriors," said Judas; "all,under God, depends upon silence, promptitude, decision. We fight forour lives and our laws."
The leader turned to depart, but as he did so accidentally droppedsomething on the ground. He stooped to raise and twist it rapidlyround his left arm, under the sleeve. The incident was so verytrifling that it scarcely drew the notice of Simon, though the thoughtdid flit across his mind that it was strange that his brother, on theeve of battle, could pause to pick up anything so utterly valueless asa slight skein of unbleached flax. It was valueless indeed, save fromthe associations which, in the mind of him who wore it, were entwinedwith every thread. That flax had been once used to tie together someflowers long since dead; the flowers had been dropped into a grave ofmartyrs; the light skein had fallen on the upturned sod unnoticed saveby the eyes of one. Perhaps it was from remembrance of the dead, orperhaps it was because hopes regarding the living (hopes brighter andsweeter than the flowers had been) seemed now bound up in that flaxenstrand, that Maccabeus fastened that skein round his arm as a preciousthing, when he would not have stooped to pick up a chaplet of pearls.
By the exertions of the five Asmonean brethren, the little Hebrew armywas rapidly put under arms, and prepared for the night attack. Thewhole force was united as one forlorn hope. As moves the dark cloud inthe sky, so darkly and silently moved on the band of heroes, and, likethat cloud, they bore the thunderbolt with them.
Most of the Syrians on that eventful night were sunk in sleep, but notall; in their camp some kept up their revels till late. All theluxuries which fancy could devise or wealth could purchase weregathered together at Emmaus to hide the grim front of war, so that thecamp by daylight presented the motley appearance of a bazaar with thegay magnificence of a court. There sherbet sparkled in vases ofsilver, and the red wine was poured into golden cups, chased andembossed, in tents stretched out with silken cords. Garments brightwith all the varied tints of the rainbow, rich productions of Orientallooms, robes from Tyre, shawls from Cashmere, blended with instrumentsof warfare, swords, spears, and bucklers, the battle-axe and thehelmet. The sentry, pacing his rounds, paused to listen to wild burstsof merriment, the loud oath and light song from some gay pavilion,where young Syrian nobles were exchanging jests, and indulging in deepcarousals. Yonder, in the glaring torch-light, sat a group ofofficers, engaged in some game of chance, and their stakes were thecaptives whom they were to drag at their chariot-wheels on the morrow.Each throw of the dice decided the fate of a Hebrew; at least, sodeemed the merry gamesters.
But the destined slaves were coming to the market sooner than theirexpectant masters dreamed or desired, and the price for each Hebrewwould be exacted, not in gold, but in blood. Suddenly the gamesters attheir play, the revellers at the board, the slumberers on theircouches, were startled by the blare of trumpets and a ringing war-cry,"The sword of the Lord and Maccabeus!" The full goblet was dashed fromthe lip, the dice from the hand; there were wild shouts and cries, andrushing to and fro, soldiers snatching up weapons, merchants flyinghither and thither for safety, stumbling over tent-ropes in thedarkness. There were confused noises of terror, trampling of feet,snorting of horses, calls to arms, clashing of weapons, with all thehorrors of sudden panic spreading like an epidemic through the mightyhost of Syria. The few remained to oppose the unseen assailants, themany took to flight; the ground was soon strewn with treasure, droppedby terrified fugitives, and weapons thrown down by warriors who had notthe courage to use them. Tents were speedily blazing, and horses,terrified by the sudden glare and maddened by the scorching heat,prancing, plunging, rushing wildly through the camp, added to thefearful confusion. Maccabeus, with the sword of Apollonius in hishand, pressed on to victory over heaps of prostrate foes. Terror wassent as a herald before him, and success followed wherever he trode.It seemed as if the Lord of Hosts were fighting for Israel, as in theold days of Gideon.
Hot was the pursuit after the flying Syrians; Maccabeus and hiswarriors followed hard on their track to Gazora, Azotus, and Jamnia,and that southern part of Judaea lying between the Red Sea and Sodom,to which, from its having been colonized by Edomites, had been giventhe name of Idumea. For many a mile the track of the fugitives wasmarked by their dead.
But as the morning dawned after that terrible though glorious night,the trumpets of Maccabeus sounded to call his troops together. Theleader had not forgotten--though some of his eager followers might havedone so--that Giorgias, with an army of chosen warriors, doubling theirown in number, and comparatively fresh, was yet to be encountered.With stern displeasure Maccabeus saw his own men, grim with blood anddust, loading themselves with the rich plunder which lay on the road;like fruit under orchard trees after a wild tornado.
"Be not greedy of the spoils," cried the leader, "inasmuch as there isa battle before us; but stand ye now against our enemies, and overcomethem, and after this ye may boldly take the spoils."
It is a more difficult task to call hounds off the prey that they haverun down, than to let them slip from the leashes when the quarry firstis in sight. It needed such moral influence over his men as waspossessed by Maccabeus to enforce instant obedience when wealth was attheir feet, and needed but the gathering up.
It was speedily seen, however, that the warning of the Asmonean chiefhad not been unnecessary. But a few minutes elapsed after theutterance of that warning, when the vanguard of the forces of Giorgiasappeared on the crest of a hill at some distance, the live-long nighthaving been spent by them in a vain attempt to discover the camp of theHebrews. After a long, tedious march, Giorgias found himself on acommanding height, from whence at dawn he had an extensive view of thesurrounding country.
"The slaves have fled--they have made their escape to the mountains,"exclaimed Giorgias, as he dismounted from his weary war-horse, when thefirst bar of golden light appeared in the orient sky.
"Then they have left marks of their handiwork behind them," said ahorseman, pointing in the direction in which lay what had been the campof Nicanor, now suddenly visible to the Syrians from the summit of thehill. "See you yon smoke arising from smouldering heaps? There hasbeen a battle at Emmaus. The lion has broken through the toils.Maccabeus has not been sleeping through the night."
"Nay, my Lord Pollux; it is impossible. The Hebrews would never dareto attack a force so greatly outnumbering their own," exclaimedGiorgias, unwilling to believe the evidence of his own senses. But asthe light more clearly revealed the tokens of flight and disaster inthe far distance, where the smoke of ruin was rising into the calmmorning air, conviction of the terrible truth forced itself on thegeneral's mind, and, with mingled astonishment and dismay, heexclaimed, "Where are the
hosts of Nicanor?"
"Yonder are those who can give an account of them," said Pollux,turning to the south, where in a valley the Hebrews might be seenmarshalled around their loader. "There, I ween, is the insolent outlawwho has been making a shambles of our camp. See you the glitter of thespears? Maccabeus is setting his men in battle array. There is but ahandful of them. Shall we charge down upon them, and sweep them fromthe face of the earth?"
Giorgias glanced again northward at Emmaus and the smoking ruins of theSyrian camp; then southward, where the little compact force in thevalley was clustering round the standard of Maccabeus. Though thetroops under the command of Giorgias doubled the Hebrews in number, hedared not try the issue of battle with those who had so latelydiscomfited Nicanor's formidable hosts. Had the Syrian leader beenanimated by such a fearless spirit as characterized his opponent, inall human probability the victory of the night might have been, toJudas and his gallant little band, succeeded by the defeat of themorning. But Giorgias showed an unusual amount of caution on thepresent occasion; and Pollux, though he assumed a tone of defiance, wassecretly by no means desirous to measure swords with Maccabeus.
The Hebrews were weary with conquering and pursuing. Their spirit wasunbroken, but their strength was exhausted. It was with some anxietythat the eagle eye of Judas watched the movements of the enemy on theheights, momentarily expecting an attack which he knew that his band ofheroes was so little able to sustain.
"They will be down upon us soon," said Simon, as he leaned wearily onhis spear.
"Nay; behold, they are vanishing over the crest of the mountain!"triumphantly exclaimed Eleazar. "The cowards! only brave over thewine-bowl! Not a stain on their swords! not a dint on their shields!They are fleeing when no man pursues! Oh, that we had but strength tofollow, and chase the dastards even up to the walls of Jerusalem!"
"God hath put fear into their hearts. To Him be the glory!" saidMaccabeus, as he sheathed his heavy sword.
And after this--to transcribe the words of the ancient Hebrewhistorian, describing the triumphs of his countrymen--"they went home,and sung a song of thanksgiving, and praised the Lord in heaven,because He is good, because His mercy endureth for ever."
