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At night the miserable wretches would steal into the ravines, those valleys where the dead bodies of their children, their wives, and kin, were lying in putrefying masses, to gather roots which might serve for food. The lot of these was pitiable indeed. If they remained outside they were captured by the Romans, and crucified, sometimes five hundred in a morning, in full view of the battlements: if they went back laden with a few poor roots of the earth, they were robbed by the soldiers at the gate, and sent home again to their starving children, starving themselves, and unable to help them.

The cruelty of Titus, designed to terrify the Jews, only stimulated them to fresh courage. Why, indeed, should they surrender? Death was certain for all; it was better to die fighting, to kill one of the enemy at least, than to die amid the jeers of the triumphant soldiers. Besides, we must remember that they were defending their sacred mountain, their Temple, the place to which every Jew’s heart looked with pride and fondness, whither turned the eyes of those who died with a sort of sad reproach. Simon and John were united in this feeling alone—that it was the highest duty of a Jew to fight for his country. The portraits of these two commanders have been drawn by an enemy’s hand. We must remember that the prolonged resistance of the Jews was a standing reproof to Josephus, who had been defeated, captured, and taken into favour. No epithets, on his part, can be too strong to hurl at John and Simon. It is impossible now to know what were the real characters of these men, whether they were religious patriots, or whether they were filled with the basest and most selfish motives. One thing is quite certain and may be said of both: if John hated Simon much, he loved the city more. Neither, at the worst moment, hinted at a surrender of the town; neither tried to curry favour for himself by compassing the fall of his adversary.