Residence at Jerusalem--Catholic church--The "Nuova Casa"--Via
Dolorosa--Pilate's house--The Mosque Omar--Herod's house--Church of
the Holy Sepulchre--Disturbances at the Greek Easter feasts--Knights
of the Holy Sepulchre--Mount of Olives--Adventure among the ruin--
Mount of Offence--Valley of Jehosaphat--Siloam--Mount Sion--
Jeremiah's grotto--Graves.
The red morning dawn had began to tinge the sky as we stood before
the walls of Jerusalem, and with it the most beauteous morning of my
life dawned upon me! I was so lost in reflection and in thankful
emotion, that I saw and heard nothing of what was passing around me.
And yet I should find it impossible to describe what I thought, what
I felt. My emotion was deep and powerful; my expression of it would
be poor and cold.
At half past four o'clock in the morning of the 29th May we arrived
at the "Bethlehem Gate." We were obliged to wait half an hour
before this gate was opened; then we rode through the still silent
and deserted streets of the Nuova Casa (Pilgrim-house), a building
devoted by the Franciscan friars to the reception of rich and poor
Roman Catholics and Protestants.
I left my baggage in the room allotted to me, and hastened into the
church, to lighten the weight on my heart by fervent prayer. The
entrance into the church looks like the door of a private house; the
building is small, but still sufficiently large for the Roman
Catholic congregation. The altar is richly furnished, and the organ
is a very bad one. The male and female portions of the congregation
are separated from each other, the young as well as the old, and all
sit or kneel on the ground. Chairs there are none in this church.
The costume of the Christians is precisely the same as that of the
Syrians. The women wear boots of yellow morocco, and over these
slippers, which they take off on entering the church. In the street
their faces are completely, in the church only partially, muffled,
and the faces of the girls not at all. Their dress consists of a
white linen gown, and a large shawl of the same material, which
completely envelops them. They were all cleanly and neatly dressed.
The amount of devotion manifested by these people is very small; the
most trifling circumstance suffices to distract their attention.
For instance, my appearance seemed to create quite a sensation among
them, and they made their remarks upon me to one another so openly
both by words and gestures, that I found it quite impossible to give
my mind to seriousness and devotion. Some of them pushed purposely
against me, and put out their hands to grasp my bonnet, etc. They
conversed together a good deal, and prayed very little. The
children behaved no better; these little people ate their breakfast
while the service was going on, and occasionally jostled each other,
probably to keep themselves awake. The good people here must fancy
they are doing a meritorious work by passing two or three hours in
the church; no one seems to care _how_ this time is spent, or they
would assuredly have been taught better.
I had been in the church rather more than an hour when a clergyman
stepped up to me and accosted me in my native language. He was a
German, and, in fact, an Austrian. He promised to visit me in the
course of a few hours. I returned to the Nuova Casa, and now, for
the first time, had leisure to examine my apartment. The
arrangement was simple in the extreme. An iron bedstead, with a
mattress, coverlet, and bolster, a very dingy table, with two
chairs, a small bench, and a cupboard, all of deal, composed the
whole furniture. These chattels, and also the windows, some panes
of which were broken, may once, in very ancient times, have been
clean. The walls were of plaster, and the floor was paved with
large slabs of stone. Chimneys are no more to be found in this
country. I did not see any until my return to Sicily.
I now laid myself down for a couple of hours to get a little rest;
for during my journey hither from Constantinople I had scarcely
slept at all.
At eleven o'clock the German priest, Father Paul, visited me, in
order to explain the domestic arrangements to me. Dinner is eaten
at twelve o'clock, and supper at seven. At breakfast we get coffee
without sugar or milk; for dinner, mutton-broth, a piece of roast
kid, pastry prepared with oil or a dish of cucumbers, and, as a
concluding course, roast or spiced mutton. Twice in the week,
namely on Fridays and Saturdays, we have fast-day fare; but if the
feast of a particular saint falls during the week, a thing that
frequently occurs, we hold three fast-days, the one of the saint's
day being kept as a time of abstinence. The fare on fast-days
consists of a dish of lentils, an omelette, and two dishes of salt
fish, one hot and the other cold. Bread and wine, as also these
provisions, are doled out in sufficient quantities. But every thing
is very indifferently cooked, and it takes a long time for a
stranger to accustom himself to the ever-recurring dishes of mutton.
In Syria oxen and calves are not killed during the summer season; so
that from the 19th of May until my journey to Egypt in the beginning
of September, I could get neither beef-soup nor beef.
In this convent no charge is made either for board or lodging, and
every visitor may stay there for a whole month. At most it is
customary to give a voluntary subscription towards the masses; but
no one asks if a traveller has given much, little, or nothing at
all, or whether he is a Roman Catholic, a Protestant, or a votary of
any other religion. In this respect the Franciscan order is much to
be commended. The priests are mostly Spaniards and Italians; very
few of them belong to other nations.
Father Paul was kind enough to offer his services as my guide, and
to-day I visited several of the holy places in company with him.
We began with the Via Dolorosa, the road which our Lord is said to
have trodden when for the last time he wandered as God-man on earth,
bowed down by the weight of the cross, on his way to Golgotha. The
spots where Christ sank exhausted are marked by fragments of the
pillars which St. Helena caused to be attached to the houses on
either side of the way. Further on we reach the "Zwerchgasse," the
place whither the Virgin Mary is said to have come in haste to see
her beloved Son for the last time.
Next we visited Pilate's house, which is partly a ruin, the
remaining portion serving as a barrack for Turkish soldiers. I was
shewn the spot where the "holy stairs" stood, up which our Lord is
said to have walked. On my return, I saw these stairs in the church
of S. Giovanni di Laterani. They also pretend to show the place
where the Saviour was brought out before the multitude by Pilate. A
little distance off, in the midst of a dark vault, they shew the
traveller the stone to which Jesus was bound when "they scourged
Him."
We ascended the highest terrace of this house, as this spot affords
the best view of the magnificent mosque of Omar, standing in a large
courtyard. With this exterior view the traveller is fain to be
content; for the Turks are here much more fanatical than those in
Constantinople and many other towns, so that an attempt to penetrate
even into the courtyard would be unsuccessful; the intruder would
run the risk of being assailed with a shower of stones. But in
proportion as the Turks are strict in the observance of their own
ceremonies and customs, so they respect those Christians who are
religious and devotional.
Every Christian can go with perfect impunity to pray at all the
places which are sacred in his eyes, without fear of being taunted
or annoyed by the Turkish passers-by. On the contrary, the
Mussulman steps respectfully aside; for even he venerates the
Saviour as a great prophet, and the Virgin as his mother.
Not far from Pilate's house stands the building designated as that
of Herod; it is, however, a complete ruin. The house of the rich
man, at whose gate the beggar Lazarus lay, has shared the same fate;
but from the ruins one may conclude how magnificent the building
must originally have been.
In the house of Saint Veronica a stone is pointed out on which they
shew you a footprint of the Saviour. In another house two
footprints of the Virgin Mary are exhibited. Father Paul also drew
my attention to the houses which stood on the spot where Mary
Magdalene and the other Mary were born. These houses are all
inhabited by Turks, but any one may obtain admittance upon payment
of a small fee.
The following day I visited the church of the Holy Sepulchre. The
way lies through several narrow and dirty streets. In the lanes
near the church are booths like those at Maria Zell in Steiermark,
and many other places of pilgrimage, where they sell wreaths of
roses, shells of mother-of-pearl, crucifixes, etc. The open space
before the church is neat enough. Opposite lies the finest house in
Jerusalem, its terraces gay with flowers.
Visitors to this church will do wisely to provide themselves with a
sufficient number of para, as they may expect to be surrounded by a
goodly tribe of beggars. The church is always locked; the key is in
the custody of some Turks, who open the sacred edifice when asked to
do so. It is customary to give them three or four piastres for
their pains, with which sum they are satisfied, and remain at the
entrance during the whole time the stranger is in the church,
reclining on divans, drinking coffee and smoking tobacco. At the
entrance of the church we noticed a long square stone on the ground;
this is the "stone of anointing."
In the centre of the nave a little chapel has been built; it is
divided into two parts. In the first of these compartments is a
stone slab encased in marble. This is vehemently asserted to be the
identical stone on which the angel sat when he announced our Lord's
resurrection to the women who came to embalm his body. In the
second compartment, which is of the same size as the first, stands
the sarcophagus or tomb of the Saviour, of white marble. The
approach is by such a low door that one has to stoop exceedingly in
order to enter. The tomb occupies the whole length of the chapel,
and answers the purpose of an altar. We could not look into the
sarcophagus. The illumination of this chapel is very grand both by
night and day; forty-seven lamps are kept continually burning above
the grave. The portion of the chapel containing the tomb is so
small, that when the priest reads mass only two or three people have
room to stand and listen. The chapel is entirely built of marble,
and belongs to the Roman Catholics; but the Greeks have the right of
celebrating mass alternately with them.
At the farther end of the chapel the Copts have a little mean-
looking altar of wood, surrounded by walls of lath. All round the
chapel are niches belonging to the different religious sects.
In this church I was also shewn the subterranean niche in which
Jesus is said to have been a prisoner; also the niche where the
soldiers cast lots for our Saviour's garments, and the chapel
containing the grave of St. Nicodemus. Not far from this chapel is
the little Roman Catholic church. A flight of twenty-seven steps
leads downwards to the chapel of St. Helena, where the holy woman
sat continually and prayed, while she caused search to be made for
the true cross. A few steps more lead us down to the spot where the
cross was found. A marble slab points out the place.
Mounting the steps once more, we come to the niche containing the
pillar to which Jesus was bound when they crowned him with thorns.
It is called the pillar of scorn. The pillar at which Jesus was
scourged, a piece of which is preserved in Rome, is also shown.
The chapel belonging to the Greeks is very spacious, and may almost
be termed a church within a church. It is beautifully decorated.
It is very difficult to find the way in this church, which resembles
a labyrinth. Now we are obliged to ascend a flight of stairs, now
again to descend. The architect certainly deserves great praise for
having managed so cleverly to unite all these holy places under one
roof; and St. Helena has performed a most meritorious action in thus
rescuing from oblivion the sacred sites in Jerusalem, Bethlehem, and
Nazareth.
I was told, that when the Greeks celebrate their Easter here, the
ceremonies seldom conclude without much quarrelling and confusion.
These irregularities are considerably increased when the Greek
Easter happens to fall at the same time as that of the Roman
Catholics. On these occasions, there are not only numerous broken
heads, but some of the combatants are even frequently carried away
dead. The Turks generally find it necessary to interfere, to
restore peace and order among the Christians. What opinion can
these nations, whom we call Infidels, have of us Christians, when
they see with what hatred and virulence each sect of Christians
pursues the other? When will this dishonourable bigotry cease?
On the third day after my arrival at Jerusalem, a small caravan of
six or seven travellers, two gentlemen namely, and their attendants,
applied for admittance at our convent. An arrival of this kind,
particularly if the new-comers are Franks, is far too important to
admit of our delaying the inquiry from what country the wanderers
have arrived. How agreeably was I surprised, when Father Paul came
to me with the intelligence that these gentlemen were both Austrian
subjects. What a singular coincidence! So far from my native
country, I was thus suddenly placed in the midst of my own people.
Father Paul was a native of Vienna, and the two counts, Berchtold
and Salm Reifferscheit, were Bohemian cavaliers.
As soon as I had completely recovered from the fatigues of my
journey, and had collected my thoughts, I passed a whole night in
the church of the Holy Sepulchre. I confessed in the afternoon, and
afterwards joined the procession, which at four o'clock visits all
the places rendered sacred by our Saviour's passion; I carried a wax
taper, the remains of which I afterwards took back with me into my
native country, as a lasting memorial. This ceremony ended, the
priests retired to their cells, and the few people who were present
left the church. I alone stayed behind, as I intended to remain
there all night. A solemn stillness reigned throughout the church;
and now I was enabled to visit, uninterrupted and alone, all the
sacred places, and to give myself wholly up to my meditations.
Truly these were the most blissful hours of my life; and he who has
lived to enjoy such hours has lived long enough.
A place near the organ was pointed out to me where I might enjoy a
few hours of repose. An old Spanish woman, who lives like a nun,
acts as guide to those who pass a night in the church.
At midnight the different services begin. The Greeks and Armenians
beat and hammer upon pendent plates or rods of metal; the Roman
Catholics play on the organ, and sing and pray aloud; while the
priests of other religions likewise sing and shout. A great and
inharmonious din is thus caused. I must confess that this midnight
mass did not produce upon me the effect I had anticipated. The
constant noise and multifarious ceremonies are calculated rather to
disconcert than to inspire the stranger. I much preferred the peace
and repose that reigned around, after the service had concluded, to
all the pomp and circumstance attending it.
Accompanied by my Spanish guide, I ascended to the Roman Catholics'
choir, where prayers were said aloud from midnight until one
o'clock. At four o'clock in the morning I heard several masses, and
received the Eucharist. At eight o'clock the Turks opened the door
at my request, and I went home.
The few Roman Catholic priests who live in the church of the Holy
Sepulchre stay there for three months at a time, to perform the
services. During this time they are not allowed to quit the church
or the convent for a single instant. After the three months have
elapsed, they are relieved by other priests.
On the 10th of June I was present at the ceremony of admission into
the Order of the Holy Sepulchre. Counts Zichy, Wratislaw, and Salm
Reifferscheit were, at their own request, installed as knights of
the Sepulchre. The inauguration took place in the chapel.
The chief priest having taken his seat on a chair of state, the
candidate for knighthood knelt before him, and took the customary
oaths to defend the holy church, to protect widows and orphans, etc.
During this time the priests who stood round said prayers. Now one
of the spurs of Godfrey de Bouillon was fastened on the heel of the
knight; the sword of this hero was put into his hands, the sheath
fastened to his side, and a cross with a heavy gold chain, that had
also belonged to Godfrey de Bouillon, was put round his neck. Then
the kneeling man received the stroke of knighthood on his head and
shoulders, the priests embraced the newly-elected knight, and the
ceremony was over.
A plentiful feast, given by the new-chosen knights, concluded the
solemnity.
Distant somewhat less than a mile from Jerusalem is the Mount of
Olives. Emerging from St. Stephen's Gate, we pass the Turkish
burial-ground, and reach the spot where St. Stephen was stoned. Not
far off we see the bed of the brook Cedron, which is at this season
of the year completely dried up. A stone bridge leads across the
brook; adjoining it is a stone slab where they shew traces of the
footsteps of the Saviour, as He was brought across this bridge from
Gethsemane, and stumbled and fell. Crossing this bridge, we arrive
at the grotto where Jesus sweat blood. This grotto still retains
its original form. A plain wooden altar has been erected there, a
few years since, by a Bavarian prince, and the entrance is closed by
an iron gate. Not far off is Gethsemane. Eight olive-trees are
here to be seen that have attained a great age; nowhere else had I
seen these trees with such massive trunks, though I had frequently
passed through whole plantations of olives. Those who are learned
in natural history assert that the olive-tree cannot live to so
great an age as to render it possible that these venerable trunks
existed at the time when Jesus passed his last night at Gethsemane
in prayer and supplication. As this tree, however, propagates
itself, these trees may be sprouts from the ancient stems. The
space around the roots has been strengthened with masonry, to afford
a support to these patriarchal trunks, and the eight trees are
surrounded by a wall three or four feet in height. No layman may
enter this spot unaccompanied by a priest, on pain of
excommunication; it is also forbidden to pluck a single leaf. The
Turks also hold these trees in reverence, and would not injure one
of them.
Close by is the spot where the three disciples are said to have
slept during the night of their Master's agony. We were shown marks
on two rocks, said to have been footsteps of these apostles! The
footsteps of the third disciple we could not discover. A little to
one side is the place where Judas betrayed his Master.
The little church containing the grave of the Virgin Mary stands
near the "Grotto of Anguish." We descend by a broad marble flight
of fifty steps to the tomb, which is also used as an altar. About
the middle of the staircase are two niches with altars; within these
are deposited the bones of the Virgin Mary's parents and of St.
Joseph. This chapel belongs to the Greeks.
From the foot of the Mount of Olives to its summit is a walk of
three quarters of an hour. The whole mountain is desert and
sterile; nothing is found growing upon it but olives; and from the
summit of this mountain our Saviour ascended into heaven. The spot
was once marked by a church, which was afterwards replaced by a
mosque: even this building is now in ruins. Only twelve years ago
a little chapel, of very humble appearance, was erected here; it now
stands in the midst of old walls; but here again a footprint of our
Lord is shown and reverenced. On this stone it is asserted that He
stood before He was taken up into heaven. Not far off, we are shown
the place where the fig-tree grew that Jesus cursed, and the field
where Judas hanged himself.
One afternoon I visited many of these sites, in company with Count
Berchtold. As we were climbing about the ruins near the mosque, a
sturdy goatherd, armed with a formidable bludgeon, came before us,
and demanded "backsheesh" (a gift, or an alms) in a very peremptory
tone. Neither of us liked to take out our purse, for, fear the
insolent beggar should snatch it from our hands; so we gave him
nothing. Upon this he seized the Count by the arm, and shouted out
something in Arabic which we could not understand, though we could
guess pretty accurately what he meant. The Count disengaged his
arm, and we proceeded almost to push and wrestle our way into the
open field, which was luckily only a few paces off. By good
fortune, also, several people appeared near us, upon seeing whom the
fellow retired. This incident convinced us of the fact that Franks
should not leave the city unattended.
As the Mount of Olives is the highest point in the neighbourhood of
Jerusalem, it commands the best view of the town and its environs.
The city is large, and lies spread over a considerable area. The
number of inhabitants is estimated at 25,000. As in the remaining
cities of Syria, the houses here are built of stone, and frequently
adorned with round cupolas. Jerusalem is surrounded by a very lofty
and well-preserved wall, the lower portion composed of such massive
blocks of stone, that one might imagine these huge fragments date
from the period of the city's capture by Titus. Of the mosques,
that of Omar, with its lead-covered roof, has the best appearance;
it lies in an immense courtyard, which is neatly kept. This mosque
is said to occupy the site of Solomon's temple.
From the Mount of Olives we can plainly distinguish all the
convents, and the different quarters of the Catholics, Armenians,
Jews, Greeks, etc. The "Mount of Offence" (so called on account of
Solomon's idolatry) rises at the side of the Mount of Olives, and is
of no great elevation. Of the temple, and the buildings which
Solomon caused to be erected for his wives, but few fragments of
walls remain. I had also been told, that the Jordan and the Dead
Sea might be seen from this mountain; but I could distinguish
neither, probably on account of a mist which obscured the horizon.
At the foot of the Mount of Olives lies the valley of Jehosaphat.
The length of this valley does not certainly exceed three miles;
neither is it remarkable for its breadth. The brook Cedron
intersects this valley; but it only contains water during the rainy
season; at other times all trace of it is lost.
The town of Jerusalem is rather bustling, particularly the poor-
looking bazaar and the Jews' quarter; the latter portion of the city
is very densely populated, and exhales an odour offensive beyond
description; and here the plague always seizes its first victims.
The Greek convent is not only very handsome, but of great extent.
Hither most of the pilgrims flock, at Easter-time to the number of
five or six thousand. Then they are all herded together, and every
place is crowded with occupants; even the courtyard and terraces are
full. This convent is the richest of all, because every pilgrim
received here has to pay an exorbitant price for the very worst
accommodation. It is said that the poorest seldom escape for less
than four hundred piastres.
Handsomest of all is the Armenian convent; standing in the midst of
gardens, it has a most cheerful appearance. It is asserted to be
built on the site where St. James was decapitated, an event
commemorated by numerous pictures in the church; but most of the
pictures, both here and in the remaining churches, are bad beyond
conception. Like the Greeks, the Armenian priests enjoy the
reputation of thoroughly understanding how to make a harvest out of
their visitors, whom they are said generally to send away with empty
pockets. As an amends, however, they offer them a great quantity of
_spiritual_ food.
In the valley of Jehosaphat we find many tombs of ancient and modern
date. The most ancient among these tombs is that of Absolom; a
little temple of pieces of rock, but without an entrance. The
second is the tomb of Zacharias, also hewn out of the rock, and
divided within into two compartments. The third belongs to King
Jehosaphat, and is small and unimportant; one might almost call it a
mere block of stone. There are many more tombs cut out of the rock.
From this place we reach the Jewish burial-ground.
The little village of Sila also lies in this valley. It is so
humble, and all its houses (which are constructed of stone) are so
small, that wandering continually among tombs, the traveller would
rather take them to be ruined resting-places of the dead than
habitations of the living.
Opposite this village lies "Mary's Well," so called because the
Virgin Mary fetched water here every day. The inhabitants of Siloam
follow her example to this day. A little farther on is the pool of
Siloam, where our Lord healed the man who was born blind. This pool
is said to possess the remarkable property, that the water
disappears and returns several times in the course of twenty-four
hours.
At the extremity of the valley of Jehosaphat a small hill rises like
a keystone; in this hill are several grottoes, formed either by
nature or art, which also once served as sepulchres. They are
called the "rock-graves." At present the greater portion of them
are converted into stables, and are in so filthy a state that it is
impossible to enter them. I peeped into one or two, and saw nothing
but a cavern divided into two parts. At the summit of these rock-
graves lies the "Field of Blood," bought by the priests for the
thirty pieces of silver which Judas cast down in the temple.
In the neighbourhood of the Field of Blood rises the hill of Sion.
Here, it is said, stood the house of Caiaphas the high-priest,
whither our Lord was brought a prisoner. A little Armenian church
now occupies the supposed site. The tomb of David, also situated on
this hill, has been converted into a mosque, in which we are shewn
the place where the Son of Man ate the last Passover with His
disciples.
The burial-grounds of the Roman Catholics, Armenians, and Greeks
surround this hill.
The "Hill of Bad Counsel," so called because it is said that here
the judges determined to crucify Christ, rises in the immediate
vicinity of Mount Sion. A few traces of the ruins of Caiaphas'
house are yet visible.
The "Grotto of Jeremiah" lies beyond the "Gate of Damascus," in
front of which we found, near a cistern, an elaborately-sculptured
sarcophagus, which is used as a water-trough. This grotto is larger
than any I have yet mentioned. At the entrance stands a great
stone, called Jeremiah's bed, because the prophet is said generally
to have slept upon it. Two miles farther on we come to the graves
of the judges and the kings. We descend an open pit, three or four
fathoms deep, forming the courtyard. This pit is a square about
seventy feet long and as many wide. On one side of this open space
we enter a large hall, its broad portal ornamented with beautiful
sculpture, in the form of flowers, fruit, and arabesques. This hall
leads to the graves, which run round it, and consist of niches hewn
in the rock, just sufficiently large to contain a sarcophagus. Most
of these niches were choked up with rubbish, but into some we could
still see; they were all exactly alike. These long, narrow, rock-
hewn graves reminded me exactly of those I had seen in a vault at
Gran, in Hungary. I could almost have supposed the architect at
Gran had taken the graves of the valley of Jehosaphat for his model.