Between them and Titus lay two furlongs. To join his column with all
honor to himself, he had to work back over the wadies he had crossed
and circle the gardens that stood in his way. But a hedge pressed too
close upon the space he must pass, between it and the enemy, before he
could return to his men. An ax glanced beside his ear; he wavered in
his saddle. Then, that happened which a Roman of that day could not be
forced to do and forget.
Titus wheeled his horse and, plunging his spurs into its sides, fled
on into the open country to the north, with the jeers of the men of
Simon and John following him.
His troops rushed down upon his assailants. But the wary soldiers
turned when the Roman had fled and the Gate of the Women's Towers
closed upon them.
Up from the visitors within the wall rose a shout: "A sign, a sign! An omen! Thus shall the children of God overthrow the
heathen in battle!"
But one of the Jews on the wall thrust his fingers under his turban
and seized his hair.
"Jerusalem is fallen! Woe! Woe to the wicked city!"
He turned in his place and leaped a good twenty feet to the ground.
When he raised himself the look of a maniac had settled on his face.
Tearing his garments from him as he went, he entered a narrow street
that made its ascent toward Zion by steps and cobbled slants. Here he
came upon great crowds of terror-stricken citizens who had rushed
together as the news spread abroad over Jerusalem that the men of
Simon and John had gone out against the Deliverer. No definite news of
the outcome of the sortie had reached them and they were moving in a
dense pack down toward the walls to hear the worst. The whole hurrying
mass seemed to vibrate with suspense and dread. The maniac met them.
"Woe, woe to Jerusalem!" he cried.
A lean, apish, half-naked, lash-scarred idiot in the street,
instantly, as if in echo to that mad cry, shouted in a voice of the
most prodigious volume: "A voice from the east, a voice from the west, a voice from the four
winds, a voice against Jerusalem and the Holy house, a voice against
the bridegrooms and the brides and a voice against this whole people!"
The temper of the crowd had reached that point of tension that needed
only a little more strain to become panic. Some one received the
discordant cries of the maniacs with piercing rapid screams. Instantly
the choked passage filled with frantic uproar. Scores attempting to
flee blindly trampled over those transfixed with fear. They fought,
men with women, youths with old age, children with one another.
Hundreds attracted by the tumult rushed in on the panic and added
fresh victims and new death. Out of the horror rose the fearful cries
of the madmen: "Woe, woe to this wicked city!"