In the Midst of Despair.

The year 586!

What a terrible year it was for Jerusalem and Judah—and Jeremiah!

Oh, the famine, the misery, the horrors within Jerusalem when the
Babylonians besieged the city for the second time.

Oh, the carnage, the massacre, the hopeless destruction when the
Babylonians finally captured Jerusalem and burned the Temple!

On the ninth day of the fourth month the first breach was made in the outer walls of Jerusalem by Nebuzaradan, the commander of Nebuchadrezzar's body guard, who led the besieging forces.

True to his character of weakling, Zedekiah, with his nobles, at this first sign of danger to the city, fled from Jerusalem through the king's gardens and the south gate, by night. When the news of the king's departure reached the Babylonians, Nebuzaradan, with a chosen troop, followed immediately in hot pursuit. The whole renegade lot were captured in the plains of Jericho. Thrown into chains, they were sent to Riblah, to Nebuchadrezzar, while Nebuzaradan returned to his command, to push the final capture of Jerusalem with an energy equal to that with which his master had destroyed Nineveh.

Two terrible tragedies were being enacted at about the same time, in
Jerusalem and at Riblah. Nebuchadrezzar timed his performances at
Riblah with the news that was brought to him from the doomed Jerusalem.

On the day when the report of the capture of the second defenses reached Riblah, Nebuchadrezzar gathered all his court in the market place, which had been transformed into a festive arena. Zedekiah, his sons and the Judean princes of the blood, in full regalia, were enthroned on platforms, on one side of the arena. Nebuchadrezzar and his courtiers were enthroned in full state on the other.

Zedekiah and his people, who had heard no news from the besieged capital, were greatly astonished at this whole procedure. They were soon to understand, however. At a given signal heralds entered and announced the report from the front. Following this came Nebuchadrezzar's body guard leading the lesser Judean nobles in chains; and, at a command given by a Babylonian officer from Nebuchadrezzar's platform, these were slaughtered before the eyes of Zedekiah, and of his sons and princes, in cold blood.

When the news was brought that Jerusalem had finally fallen, a second festival was held in Riblah in the same way. To all appearances, Zedekiah and his sons were the royal guests of the royal Nebuchadrezzar at a great royal celebration. It was noticeable, however, that the Judean princes of the blood were missing from the side of their king and his sons.

At the proper time the heralds announced the tidings from before Jerusalem, the Judean princes were marched into the center of the festive throng—and beheaded.

Finally, on the eighth day of the fifth month, the month of Ab, news came to Riblah that on the day before, the seventh of Ab, the destruction of the city had begun. The report stated that the little garrison in the Temple was holding out, but that Nebuzaradan hoped to finish up his work and burn the Temple on the day after; that is, on the ninth day of Ab.

Nebuchadrezzar took it for granted that Nebuzaradan's estimate of events was correct. Just at about the time, therefore, that Nebuchadrezzar calculated the Temple ought to be burning, on the ninth day of Ab, the final horror in Riblah began.

This time Zedekiah sat alone on his platform, a hopeless, shrunken figure, the mockery of a king. His heart told him the tragedy that he was about to behold; but he did not know what terrible thing the Babylonian had prepared for the climax.

Zedekiah's sons, mere boys, were brought into the open space before
Nebuchadrezzar. Rings had been pierced through their noses and they
were led by chains, like animals. A loud fanfare announced their coming.
The trumpet notes were like so many sword points in Zedekiah's heart.

The young princes, too, knew what awaited them. Innocent of any crime, they marched bravely to their fate. One after another they laid their heads on the block, brave descendants of King David.

Zedekiah saw the executioner's axe rise—and fall; and again; and again!

His heart stopped beating. His brain was numb. His body was without feeling. He never knew just when he was led from his mock throne, nor by whom, nor where he was led to. He did not hear the jeers and howling of the blood-infuriated Chaldeans, nor the commands given him by his captors, nor the words addressed to him by Nebuchadrezzar himself.

All at once he felt a severe pain in his head, a shock through his entire nervous system, a red-fire-like blur before his eyes—and he was blind forever. The eyes that, for the last time, had looked upon the writhing bodies of his headless children had been pierced out by the royal spear in Nebuchadrezzar's hand!

In Jerusalem the tragedy was less studied and, therefore, the carnage was much greater. Imprisoned in the guard house, Jeremiah did not know the worst; but he surmised it.

He had not seen Ebed-melech or Baruch for several days. He did not know what progress the siege was making. No one had time to stop and speak with him. Even food was no longer brought to him. In his loneliness and helplessness, he turned to God:

"There is none like unto Thee, O Lord!
Thou art great and Thy name is great in might.
Who should not fear Thee, O King of the nations?
The Lord is the true God.
He is the living God and an everlasting King.
He hath made the earth by His power;
He hath established the world by His wisdom;
By His understanding hath He stretched out the heavens.
O Lord, I know that the way of man is not in himself;
It is not in man that walketh to direct his steps.
O Lord God, correct me, but in judgment,
Not in Thine anger, lest Thou bring me to nothing."

Finally came the seventh day, and then the ninth day of Ab! He heard the shouts and the clang of hand-to-hand fighting. The thick prison walls could not shut out the curses of hating, contending men, the shrieks of the wounded, the prayers and moans of the dying.

On the night of the seventh day of Ab he knew that the Babylonian had entered Jerusalem. The red sky told him that the city was burning. On the next day, he judged from the noises and commands within the garrison that preparations were being made for the last stand.

All that day and all that night long he heard the fighting on the Temple Mount. He pictured to himself every step of the retreating, beaten Judeans and the oncoming, victorious Babylonians.

On the morning of the next day, the fatal ninth of Ab, the oppressive heat told him that the Temple was on fire. Through the day, the shouting and the fighting died slowly away. Jeremiah knew that the end had come for his beloved fatherland—and for himself. His presence in the guard house had been accidentally or purposely forgotten!

At sunrise the next day, he was suddenly aroused from his aimless, mental wanderings by the noisy marching of troops. They passed his prison without stopping. He shouted, but they did not hear him. He could not see who they were, but surmised that they must be Babylonians.

Several hours passed and once more he heard the heavy steps of troops. This time he shouted at the top of his feeble voice and pounded the iron bars. They halted. Several were dispatched to the guard house. They broke open the door and brought forth a gray-headed, gray-bearded, unkempt little man, whose face and bearing showed the horrors he had been through.

The soldiers made sport of him, but the commander did not permit them to kill a helpless old man. Instead, he sent Jeremiah, through the ruins of the Temple and the city, with hundreds of others, to the prisoners' camp at Ramah, five miles north of Jerusalem.