JERUSALEM.
On Wednesday evening, after our arrival at Jerusalem, we visited a small
store to purchase a guide-book of the city. But the merchant would not
accept our French or English money, and we had no Turkish money. We laid
the book down, but the dealer said, "You take the book and pay me
another time."
"Are you willing to trust a stranger?" we inquired.
"Yes!" he replied, "I trust American any time. You may buy goods, all
you want, three hundred dollars' worth. I trust you. When you go home to
America, then you send me the money."
"Were you never cheated?" we asked.
"No," he answered, "I trust American many time. American always pay, but
me not trust Frenchman; Frenchman forget."
Glad to know that our countrymen bear such a good reputation, we took
the book without giving our names, merely telling him that we were
staying at the Casa Nova and would pay the next day.
In our country we can travel from Maine to California with one kind of
money. All that is necessary is to have plenty of it. But in these
foreign lands the currency changes as we move from one country to
another, so that we may have a pocket full of money and yet not be able
to pay our bills. At Funchal, Portuguese money was current; at
Gibraltar and at Malta, English money; at Granada, Spanish; at Algiers,
French; at Athens, Greek; at Constantinople and Jerusalem, Turkish. In
Cairo another coinage was current, and in Italy the Turkish and Egyptian
coins left over had to be sold to the money changers or taken home as
souvenirs. In large cities the hotels and larger stores accepted
American, English, and French money at its value, but small dealers and
individuals knew nothing of foreign coins and wanted payment in their
own currency. As it was desirable at all times to have plenty of small
coins on hand, the tourists soon became acquainted with the value of
shillings and pence, francs and centimes, drachmae and lepta, piasters
and paras. On our arrival at each port the managers of the tour and the
purser of the vessel obtained a large number of small coins of that
particular country so that the needs of the tourists could be promptly
supplied.
Our room at the Hospice was rather cold but my room-mate said there was
one compensation, we need have no fear of the hotel's burning down and
so need not be anxious as to the location of the fire escapes before
retiring. The Casa Nova is a stone building with stone stairways and
floors. In our room there was nothing inflammable but the mosquito
nettings and lace draperies over the iron bedsteads. Two candles
furnished us with light, hempen rugs covered portions of the black and
white marble floor, a gilded crucifix hung on the painted stone wall,
and two chairs, a small table, and a washstand completed the furnishing.
[Illustration: I. ENTERED BY THE JAFFA GATE.]
[Illustration: II. STOOD IN THE PALACE OF CAIAPHAS.]
Early Thursday morning, with bright anticipations, we started for a
visit to Bethlehem. The drive of six miles over a good limestone road
was one of much interest. Our dragoman pointed out the well where the
wise men, stooping to drink, saw the reflection of the star in the
water before they beheld the star itself in the sky.
[Illustration: CAMELS SINGLE AND CAMELS IN TRAINS.]
"Why, how could that be?" inquired one of the party. "I thought the wise
men were following the star."
But the guide did not attempt to explain. It was his business to state
facts in which he had believed all his life; not to enter into disputes
with unbelievers as to the truth of his statements. He showed us a great
rock in the road where Elijah, wearied in his flight, lay down to rest.
It seemed to be a hard bed for a tired man, but we remembered that in
olden times rocks and caves were selected for sleeping-places and stones
often served for pillows.
[Illustration: RECALLED TO MEMORY THE OLD LOVE STORY.]
Camels were so numerous on the road that they lost their
novelty,--camels single and camels in trains, with great hampers
swinging at their sides laden with sacks of lime or charcoal, with
building stone or cauliflower, with fish or flagstones, with chunks of
wood and gnarled roots, with bags of grain and crates of vegetables,
each camel carrying a quantity about equal to a one-horse wagon load.
From a hill-top we caught a glimpse of the Dead Sea lying far below us
in the valley twenty miles away. We met women on their way to market
with heavy baskets of cauliflower and other vegetables poised on their
heads, men bending under distended goat-skins filled with water or wine
strapped to their shoulders, donkeys bearing basket-panniers filled with
produce or laden with bags of grain heaped on their backs, Greek priests
in black robes and high hats carrying white umbrellas for protection
from the sun, and turbaned Arabs in brown robes plodding along with
staves in their hands.
The mountainous suburbs of the city are composed of limestone, and the
limestone rocks cropped out on every side. The rocks protruding from the
soil were of a light gray color, but the broken rocks, the fences, and
the houses built of stone had changed to a light yellow shade from
exposure to the weather. The fields were covered with stones except
where little patches had been cleared with great labor and the stones
built into fences surrounding the small plots. The hill-sides were
almost bare of soil. Where the stones had been cleared away, the soil of
decomposed limestone produced a luxuriant growth. The cauliflower
carried to market was the finest we had ever seen. The few scattered
olive trees in the valleys appeared strong and healthy in their light
green foliage. The fig trees were bare, but occasional groups of almond
trees were covered with pink bloom.
[Illustration: IN THE NARROW STREETS OF BETHLEHEM.]
During our drive we saw peasants plowing little plots with single
donkeys and crooked wooden plows, or digging between rocks and around
grape vines with clumsy, heavy-looking hoes. The grape vines were
trimmed back to within three or four feet of the ground and were not
supported or trellised. Women gathered the trimmings of the vines, bound
them into fagots, placed the fagots on their heads, and carried them
away to the city for firewood. Not a sprig was wasted. The old roots
that were dug out of the ground were borne away in the same manner. In a
country without forests and without coal everything that will burn is
utilized. We saw girls carrying flat baskets on their heads and the
guide satisfied our curiosity by explaining that the baskets contained
dried cakes of camels' dung which the girls had gathered and were taking
home for fuel.
Rachel's tomb, situated four miles from Jerusalem, and about two miles
from Bethlehem, recalled to memory the old love story: "And Jacob served
Laban seven years for Rachel; and they seemed unto him but a few days,
for the love he had for her."
[Illustration: THE PEOPLE OF BETHLEHEM WERE BRIGHT AND CHEERFUL.]
Cut in the rock, near Bethlehem is an ancient well, known as the well of
David. From that point we obtained a good view of the square stone
houses of the little town of Bethlehem, which is built on a sloping
hill-side, and of the great spreading Church of the Nativity, which is
the dominating feature of the place. Beyond the city we saw a verdant
plain, where possibly Ruth gleaned, and, farther away, the hills where
probably David led his flock to "green pastures" and the shepherds of
later days received the "tidings of great joy."
In the narrow streets of Bethlehem our driver shouted to men, women, and
children to clear the way and make room for the carriages to pass
through, snapping his whip at them if they did not quickly obey. When we
arrived at the old Church of the Holy Nativity we were told that this
venerable place is in reality a group of buildings, the original edifice
having been built fifteen or more centuries ago, and many additions
having been made in after years. We saw a structure of yellowish stone
walls pierced with small windows which appeared to us more like a prison
or a fortress than a place of worship. There were no stained glass
windows. There was no imposing portal opening into the temple. On
entering the sacred enclosure we passed through a door in the stone wall
so low that we were compelled to stoop and so narrow that but one at a
time might enter.
"This doorway," said the guide, "should remind the pilgrims that the
birthplace of the Savior is to be visited with humility and reverence."
In the large, time-worn interior of the church, faded mosaics, huge
columns, and stone floors presented a rather gloomy aspect. The tourists
hastened through and descended to the crypt or vault underneath the
church. This vault was paved with marble, and on a raised platform in
the centre was a large, handsomely decorated altar. Suspended from the
ceiling were many ancient lamps of curious make and smaller lamps
hanging in festoons. On one side was a small room, called the Chapel of
the Nativity, where thirty gold and silver lamps threw a dim, soft light
on the scene below. In the pavement before an altar was a star of
silver, and the words:
"Hic de Virgine Maria Jesus Christus natus est."
Opposite and near the Chapel of the Nativity was another small,
rock-walled room called the Chapel of the Manger. In this room the dim
light of golden lamps revealed a white marble manger in which a large
wax doll reclined.
"The original wooden manger or cradle in which the infant Jesus reposed
was taken to Rome," explained the guide. "If you return by way of Rome
you may see it in the great church of Santa Maria Maggiore."
"The care of the chapels, shrines, and holy places of the Church of the
Nativity," he continued, "is appointed to the Latin, Greek, and Armenian
churches. The space inside the building is divided. Each sect has its
own particular portion to care for, and an intense jealousy exists among
the rival religious bodies. If the rug of the Armenian is accidentally
pushed over the Latin line, the action is resented. If the broom of the
Latin while cleansing intrudes upon the Greek domain, there is trouble.
Disputes have arisen from very slight causes, blows have been exchanged,
rioting, blood-shed, and murder have followed. Priests at times have
fought with priests until the Turkish soldiers intervened. Now, by the
Sultan's orders, Moslem guards are stationed in the church to restrain
the impetuous caretakers and prevent disturbances."
[Illustration: THIS ROUND-TOPPED RIDGE IS CALLED THE MOUNT OF OLIVES.]
In one of the underground chapels of the church, a dark and gloomy
cavern cut out of the solid rock, the guide said: "In this grotto Saint
Jerome passed thirty years fasting, praying, meditating, and writing.
His last communion was taken here."
We remembered that Domenichino's celebrated painting in the Vatican at
Rome, called the "Last Communion of St. Jerome," represented the aged
saint dying amid luxurious surroundings.
When we came out of the church, bright-faced boys and girls urged us to
buy their wares or accompany them to the shops. The little town appeared
to prosper from the manufacture and sale of souvenirs of carved
mother-of-pearl and olive-wood. Crosses, crucifixes, rosaries, beads,
glove-boxes, writing desks, inkstands, napkin rings, paper knives, and
forks were offered as genuine wood from the olive trees of David's town,
and the mother-of-pearl mementoes were carved with minute scenes of
events in the life of Christ and of places in the Holy Land.
After the purchase of olive wood souvenirs had been made, the drive was
continued to the Pools which Solomon had built to collect water for use
in the Temple. These are situated among the hills about eight miles from
Jerusalem. The stone walls of the reservoirs were so well constructed by
Solomon's architects three thousand years ago that to-day the masonry
is in almost perfect condition. The Pools, we were informed are not in
use at the present time, although water is conveyed in pipes to
Jerusalem from springs near-by.
[Illustration: A GARDEN SURROUNDED BY AN IRON FENCE.]
The glare of the sun on the white road and gray rocks, the lack of green
in the bare landscape, and the fine dust from the limestone caused a
slight smarting in the eyes of the travelers. So it was with relief that
in the suburbs of the city, about half a mile from the Damascus gate, we
descended a long flight of stone steps into the shade of an excavation
in the rocks about twenty feet in depth. This open chamber, known as the
Tombs of the Kings, is about ninety feet square. At one side is a
doorway in the rock four feet high and thirty inches wide, and beside
the doorway stood a huge stone, rounded at the corners, that might, by
the united efforts of several men, be rolled in front of the entrance so
as to close it completely. We crawled through the hole in the rock and
entered a cavern. The candles of the guides revealed on each side of the
cavern small rooms or caves containing shelves or apertures which had
been used as the sepulchres of the Kings.
Jerusalem, situated on four hills, is surrounded by hills which are
separated from the city and from each other by deep valleys or gulleys.
We drove from Jerusalem to the Mount of Olives over a well constructed
modern limestone road that wound among these hills and valleys in long
curves and horseshoes in order to reach a place that seemed almost
within a stone's throw.
[Illustration: CAREFULLY TENDED AND GUARDED BY FRANCISCAN MONKS.]
"The summit of this round-topped ridge, which is called the Mount of
Olives, is owned by Russia," explained the guide, "and the Russians have
erected an observation tower, a chapel, and other buildings upon it.
These buildings are surrounded by a courtyard enclosed within high stone
walls, and a fee must be paid at the gate in order to gain admittance.
Within the court a small circular pavilion covers the place from which,
it is claimed, the ascension of the Savior was made."
As we approached the gate, a group of Russian men and women were seen
coming sadly away. We were informed later that these peasants, after
tramping a long distance on a holy pilgrimage in order to kneel down and
kiss the stone that marked the sacred spot of the Ascension of their
Lord, were refused admittance because they had not the required fee to
pay for entrance. In a Roman Catholic church, built on the spot on
Olivet where Christ is said to have taught His disciples to pray, the
Lord's Prayer is displayed on charts in large letters in thirty-six
different languages, so that pilgrims from all parts of the world can
read the prayer in their own tongue.
From the summit of Olivet, which is two hundred feet above the city of
Jerusalem, we looked down over the Holy City; but a finer panoramic view
of the surrounding country was obtained afterwards from the Russian
observation tower. The climbing of the two hundred stone steps which
lead to the top of the tower was not easy, but we felt amply repaid by
the magnificence of the view. Near the foot of the mountain lay the
Garden of Gethsemane. Beyond and four hundred feet below us, the
little brook Kedron trickled through the narrow Valley of Jehoshaphat.
Across the valley on the opposite heights of Mount Moriah, only half a
mile away in a direct line, prominent in the foreground, stood the
Mosque of Omar, and back of it rose the square roof and round domes of
the city buildings. Away off to the east, deep down in the valley, we
could see a portion of the Dead Sea and could trace the Valley of the
River Jordan.
[Illustration: AND A FEW LEAVES FROM ONE OF THE ANCIENT OLIVE TREES.]
We walked from the summit of the Mount of Olives down a steep, rocky,
crooked, narrow lane, hemmed in by stone walls, to the foot of the
slope, as it is considered too dangerous for the tourists to remain in
the carriages while descending this short cut to a lower road. The
carriages rejoined us later. At the foot of the hill there was a piece
of land about half an acre in extent enclosed by a white stone fence.
Within the enclosure was a garden surrounded by an iron fence. Between
the stone fence and the iron railing was a wide path. Within the garden
were eight gnarled olive trees that appeared to be of great age, and
flower beds which were carefully tended and guarded by Franciscan monks.
It was not necessary for the guide to tell us that this was the Garden
of Gethsemane. Small shrines with pictures above them, fourteen in all,
representing the fourteen traditionary stations of the Via Dolorosa,
were arranged at intervals along the path around the garden. Before
these shrines pilgrims were kneeling in prayer. As we were leaving the
garden an old monk with tonsured head, in long brown robe girt about
with a hempen cord and having sandals laced on his bare feet,
presented each, of us with a flower from the garden and a few leaves
from one of the ancient olive trees.
[Illustration: I. BETHANY IS A POOR LITTLE VILLAGE.]
[Illustration: II. THE EMPTY TOMB OF THE RISEN VIRGIN.]
The Tomb and Chapel of the Virgin, which is but a short distance from
Gethsemane, had a venerable aspect, and the olive trees surrounding it
were patriarchal in appearance. We crossed the sunken court and
descended a broad staircase of sixty steps to a gloomy chapel which
seemed to have been excavated in the rock.
"These tombs on the right are the tombs of the parents of the Virgin,
Joachim and Anna," said the guide as we halted in the dim light. "That
tomb on the left is the tomb of Joseph, the husband of Mary. The small
chapel at the end of the grotto contains the empty tomb of the risen
virgin."
On the road to Bethany we passed many trains of pack mules, twenty or
thirty in a train, and caravans of camels striding along in single file.
A light rope or chain connected the leading camel with the others and
kept them from straggling.
The Arab who drove our carriage told us that he was a scholar. He
explained by stating that he could converse fluently in four languages,
besides his own native Arabic tongue. These languages were Turkish,
Russian, Latin, and French, and in addition, he knew enough English to
give some information to the tourists. The linguistic ignorance of the
occupants of his carriage seemed to impress him with the idea that
education in America is neglected.
[Illustration: IN A STREET IN BETHANY A LOCAL GUIDE WAS WAITING.]
Bethany, barely two miles distant from Jerusalem, is a poor little
village with steep, rough, dirty lanes and a number of old and
dilapidated small stone houses amid broken walls of other houses which
evidently have been equally insignificant. One of these piles was
pointed out by the Bethany guides as the ruins of the home of Mary and
Martha, and we were then taken to a narrow lane where a dark and slimy
stairway led down to the reputed tomb of Lazarus. Our dragoman, who
firmly believed in the traditions of the country, said that he could not
vouch for the statements made by the Bethany local guides.
[Illustration: AT THE ENTRANCE TO THE TOMB OF LAZARUS.]
Returning to Jerusalem, we visited the so-called palace of Caiaphas,
the High Priest. This palace is an excavated ruin. Steps lead down to
the marble floor, which is fifteen or twenty feet below the present
level of the street.
[Illustration: THE RUINS OF THE HOME OF MARY AND MARTHA.]
"The circle on the pavement," said the custodian, "marks the place
where Peter stood with the soldiers, warming his hands by the little
fire which they had kindled in a brazier, when he was accused by the
maid of being a companion and follower of the Prisoner then on trial
before the High Priest. The stone pillar that you see in the courtyard
of the palace is the stone on which the cock was perched when its
crowing quickened Peter's memory, softened his heart, and brought bitter
tears to his eyes."
After leaving the palace we followed the guide through a rough narrow
street to a view point on the wall. Far below us lay the Valley of
Jehoshaphat, the village of Siloam, and the site of the pool to which
Jesus sent the blind man to wash.
"The walk to the pool through the rough and crooked streets would be
difficult now for a man with good sight," remarked one of the tourists,
"how much more so would it be to a blind man groping his way."
Permission to visit the Temple Area, or Haram, as it is called by the
Moslems, had been obtained from the Turkish authorities by the payment
of heavy fees. We proceeded to that place on foot accompanied by the
dragoman. At the gate of the Area the authorities furnished Moslem
guides to conduct the visitors through the enclosure, and sent Turkish
soldiers to accompany the party to restrain any possible irreverent or
unseemly conduct while within the holy precincts.
[Illustration: I. WITHIN THE TEMPLE AREA.]
[Illustration: II. THE AREA EXTENDS OVER THIRTY-FIVE ACRES.]
"The Temple Area, which probably covers the place where was once the
Court of the Temple," explained the dragoman, as we halted within the
grounds, "is thirty-five acres in extent, about one thousand feet wide
by two thousand feet in length, and is surrounded by high walls. It is
revered by the Moslems as one of their most holy places. This is the
Mount Moriah hallowed by the sacrifices of Abraham, glorified by the
prayers of King David, consecrated by the Temple of Solomon, and made
additionally sacred by the ascension of the Prophet of Allah. The
Moslems forbid the entrance of Jews into the Haram, although the Jews
have as great reverence for the place as the Moslems."
In the centre of the Area, on a raised embankment or platform, paved
with marble slabs, stood a handsome octagonal building covered below the
window line with marbles of various hues and above that line by
decorated tiles of blue-and-white porcelain edged with green. As we
stood on the marble pavement and gazed at the tiling mellowed by age,
and at the round lead-covered dome above, the guide continued his
explanations.
"This edifice, called by the Moslems the Dome of the Rock," said he,
"but better known as the Mosque of Omar, is built on the site of the
Temple of Herod, and also on the site of the Temple of Solomon, which
preceded that of Herod. Each side of the octagon is sixty-six feet in
length, and the top of the dome is one hundred and fifteen feet above
this platform."
Underneath a small pavilion at the entrance, attendants laced slippers
to our feet and then conducted us into the Mosque. On the floor lay
precious Oriental rugs. Overhead in the dome, the light entered through
richly stained glass windows, tinting and beautifying the interior and
disclosing the mosaic decorations of the ceiling and the Arabic
inscriptions on the walls. At one side was an exquisitely carved wooden
pulpit inlaid with ivory and mother-of-pearl. In the centre of the
Mosque a great rock, at least fifty feet long and almost as wide, rose
to the height of our heads. A beautifully designed, gilded and bronzed
iron railing prevented infidel fingers from touching the rock.
[Illustration: WE WILL TAKE THE PICTURE AND INCLUDE THE TURKS IN IT.]
"This mountain-top, the crown of Mount Moriah," said the Moslem
dragoman, as we stood reverently before it, "is the place where the arm
of Abraham was stayed as he lifted the knife to slay his son. This rock,
in David's time, was the threshing floor of Araunah, whose oxen
trampled out the grain upon it until the time when King David purchased
the land and built here an altar to the Lord. When King Solomon erected
the temple upon the site prepared and dedicated by his father David,
this Holy Rock became the altar upon which the priests of the temple
offered sacrifices. When Mohammed, the Prophet of God, took his flight
to Heaven he rose from this sanctified place, which is nearer to Heaven
than any other spot on earth, leaving as a memorial the impression of
his foot which you now see there in the rock. The print of the hand in
the rock near the footprint was made by the angel Gabriel when he
prevented the rock from following the Prophet in his ascent."
At the foot of the flight of steps which the tourists descended on their
way from the marble platform of the Dome of the Rock to the Mosque of El
Aksa, the tourists encountered Turkish photographers, who, hoping that
the Americans would gladly make use of their services, had been
patiently awaiting their arrival. But the tourists were well supplied
with their own outfits, and these amateurs, disdaining the offered
professional services, secured snapshots themselves.
"What!" said one of the amateurs indignantly, "let the Turks take us?
No! let some of the party stay on the steps and we will take the picture
and include the Turks in it."
While returning through the extensive grounds of the Haram, one of the
tourists lighted a pipe. Immediately a Moslem guard approached and with
unintelligible words, made it known by his frowning face and threatening
gestures, that the pipe must be extinguished.