XXIV JEPHTHAH’S DAUGHTER

ER father was an outlaw, like Robin Hood. For no fault of his he had been driven from his home, and had gone to live in the wild forest. There he had been joined by other men, some bad and some good, who had been driven out like himself or had run away in fear of being punished. And they went on forays, stealing sheep and oxen. And people who had money in their purses were afraid to go by that way, lest Jephthah and his merry men should fall upon them and send them back with empty pockets, and sore heads into the bargain. Though I hope that Jephthah, like Robin Hood, troubled only those who cheated their neighbors or were cruel to the poor. Anyhow, his fame spread through all the land of Gilead, in which he lived, and everybody knew that Jephthah was a bold outlaw, and that he had with him a band of stout companions. In the greenwood, with these wild men, lived a little girl; and she was Jephthah’s only child.

The land of Gilead was bounded by three rivers and a desert. In the north a river ran into the Jordan, and in the south a river ran into the Jordan, and the desert lay along the east. And in the desert was a wild tribe called the men of Ammon. And the men of Ammon sent word to the men of Gilead and said, “The country in which you live belongs to us. That was where our fathers lived. Come now, move out and let us in.” And when the men of Gilead heard that, they were sore distressed, for the men of Ammon were mighty men. “Where is a man,” they said, “who can be the captain of our army? If he can lead us into battle and gain the victory, he shall be the king of Gilead.” And they sent to Jephthah and asked him.

“Come,” they said, “and be our captain, that we may fight with the men of Ammon.”

But Jephthah said, “Did you not hate me, and expel me out of my father’s house? Why are you come to me now when you are in distress?”

And the men of Gilead said, “If you will be our captain so that we may defeat our enemies, you shall be our king.”

So Jephthah and his merry men and his little daughter came out of the woods with the messengers of Gilead. And they all stopped at a church beside the road and said their prayers. And there they told God what they had promised. And Jephthah stood up and made a vow. “O Lord,” he said, “if thou shalt without fail deliver the men of Ammon into my hands, then it shall be that whosoever comes first out of my doors to meet me when I return in peace, I will sacrifice to thee.” For Jephthah thought that if he made a vow like that, the Lord would be more likely to give him victory. This, you understand, was a long time ago, when people were very ignorant about God. Of this vow, Jephthah’s daughter knew nothing.

Thus Jephthah became the captain. And he sent messengers to the king of Ammon and said, “Why are you come to fight me in my own land?” And the king of Ammon answered, “Your land is my land. Your fathers took it from my fathers. Come now, give it up again peaceably.” But Jephthah said, “When our fathers came into these parts out of Egypt, your fathers were not living here. They had been driven out by Sihon, king of the Amorites. And our fathers fought with Sihon and beat him in battle and took his land, from one river to the other. It was not your land. And anyhow, all this happened three hundred years ago. The Lord be judge this day between the men of Gilead and the men of Ammon.” So they fell to fighting. And the men of Gilead gained a great victory.

And Jephthah came home in triumph to his house, and all the women came out to meet him, who had stayed behind while the men went to battle. Out they came, singing and dancing and playing on tambourines. And who should be at the head of the procession but Jephthah’s little daughter! So she was the first person who came out to meet him when he returned in peace. She was his only child; beside her he had neither son nor daughter. And when her father saw her he cried with a great cry, and said, “Alas, my daughter! you have dealt me a worse blow than any that was struck this day in battle: you have brought me down to the ground. For I have vowed a vow to God, and I must keep it, and here you come to meet me.”

Then Jephthah’s daughter understood what the vow was, and that it meant her death. And she said, “My father, you have gained the victory: that is the great thing. Do to me according to what you have promised to the Lord.” It was all terribly wrong, though Jephthah did not know it. But his daughter, like Iphigenia in another story, showed herself a martyr and a heroine. For the sake of her country, as she believed, she gave her life.

So they made Jephthah their king, but his happiness was gone. He fought a battle with the men of Ephraim and drove them back over the river, and stationed his soldiers on the bank where they must cross. And when anybody came running, the soldiers said, “Are you a man of Ephraim?” and if he said “No,” they said, “Say ‘Shibboleth.’ ” And if he said “Sibboleth” they knew that he belonged to Ephraim, for the men of Ephraim were not able to say sh. But every year the women of Israel spent four days in the mountain weeping and lamenting in remembrance of the sacrifice of Jephthah’s daughter.