Forty Days and forty Nights in the Holy City. ―― Inside View
of Jerusalem. ―― Streets. ―― Buildings. ―― Commerce. ―― A
Cosmopolitan City. ―― Government Officials. ―― Taxation.
―― Population. ―― Turks. ―― Dervishes. ―― Fast of Ramadan.
―― Feast of Beiram. ―― Moslem Sects. ―― Their Creeds.
―― Quarter of the Jews. ―― Their wretched Condition. ――
Their Nationalities. ―― Pensioners. ―― Jewish Passover. ――
Ceremonies witnessed. ―― Jewish Sabbath in Jerusalem. ――
Synagogue. ―― Education. ―― Mr. Touro and Sir Moses Montefiore.
―― Religious and Industrial Institutions. ―― Christian Sects
in the Holy City. ―― Armenians. ―― Their Wealth. ―― Greeks.
―― Their Influence. ―― Latins. ―― Their Edifices. ―― Monastic
Quarrels. ―― Curious Scene. ―― Rivalry between France and
Russia. ―― Russian Gold. ―― Protestant Christianity in
Jerusalem. ―― English Church. ―― House of Charity. ―― The
two Slave Girls.
FORTY days and forty nights in the Holy City gave me ample time to
thread its streets, examine its architecture, study its politics,
consider its religion, and form an opinion of the social customs of
its citizens. The attritions of time and the physical changes incident
to war have marred the beauty of this once imperial city, and the
Jerusalem of to-day holds no comparison in wealth and elegance with
the Jerusalem of Solomon or of Herod the Great. Less than twelve feet
wide, the streets are paved with small flag-stones, and, being without
side-walks, are the thoroughfares for man and beast. Excepting the
mosques and churches, the buildings are constructed in accordance with
cheapness and convenience rather than in harmony with a costly and
elegant architecture. They range in size from a one-story bazar-shop to
a three-story dwelling. Wood being scarce and expensive, they are built
of the common gray limestone of Palestine; the windows are small and
barred with iron; in the centre of the edifice is an open court; and
the flat roof of each is adorned with a small dome, adding not a little
to the general appearance of the structure and to the comfort of the
inmates. The arrangement of the interior depends upon the nationality,
taste, and wealth of the occupant. Usually the furniture is of the
simplest kind, consisting of low stools for tables, on which the food
is placed, and a series of divans encircling the room, which are used
for seats in the daytime and for beds at night. The floor, walls, and
ceiling are of stone, and are whitewashed as a substitute for carpets,
paint, and paper. The bazars are in the most frequented streets, and
are in either a small building or on the ground floor of a dwelling.
The articles for sale are displayed on a shelf in front of the shop,
or around the casement of the door. In addition to the more common
necessaries of life, the principal commodities of traffic are the
several kinds of Persian and Turkish tobacco, the fruits of the country,
some rude silk and cotton fabrics manufactured in the city, together
with beads, trinkets, and jewelry, of which the ladies are very fond.
The commerce of the modern town is not equal to that of the ancient
capital, when the merchants were princes, and when the caravans of the
East brought to her gates the fine linen of Egypt, the steeds of Arabia,
the carpets of Persia, the shawls of Cashmere, and the marvels of
Bagdad.
Illustration: VIEW OF MODERN JERUSALEM FROM THE MOUNT OF OLIVES.
Jerusalem is a cosmopolitan city, where the representatives from all
nations congregate and live. Amounting to 20,000 souls, the present
population is divided into classes according to their religious
opinions, and each sect occupies a separate portion of the town called
“Quarters.” The Turk is now in power, swaying his iron sceptre, which
he has held for more than six hundred years. The city having been
elevated to the dignity of a distinct pashalic, the Pasha is appointed
by the Sultan, and comes from Constantinople. The municipal government
is civil and military. The civil governor is assisted by a delegated
council of Moslems, of which one Jew and one Christian are members by
sufferance, to represent the interests of their respective churches.
Criminal and civil justice is administered by a city judge, called the
“Cadi,” who is judge and jury, and whose decisions are law, whether
the dictates of an impartial judgment or the sentence of a bribed
magistrate. The military department is under Bim-Pasha, the most
dreaded of all the government officials. His troops perform the double
duty of garrison and police, guarding the gates during the day and
patroling the streets at night. Destitute of courtesy and the finer
feelings of our humanity, they are the most brutal class of men on the
globe, who are respected because they are dreaded, and feared because
they are vindictive. The palaces of the civil and military governors of
the city are in the northwest corner of the Haram; the common council
holds its sessions in what was once the hall of the Jewish Sanhedrim,
and the soldiers have their barracks in the Hippic Tower and in the
Tower of Antonia, where is still the city prison.
The government is supported by taxation, which is as heavy as the
military collectors are exacting. Every expedient is resorted to to
avoid the payment of a tax which is imposed with rapacity and gathered
with rigor. Under the pretense of poverty, rich Jews live in filth and
go through the streets in rags; and to escape the system of espionage
which the grasping Turk has established, both Arabs and Christians
secrete their treasures in fields and cellars.
The Moslem population is estimated at 7556 souls, and their “Quarter”
extends from the southwest corner of the Haram to the central bazar,
thence up to the Damascus Gate, including a portion of Mount Akra, the
whole of Mount Bezetha, as far down as the northern wall of the Temple
inclosure. Mount Moriah is exclusively their own; and, besides the
famous mosques of Omar and El-Aksa, they have several others within
the limits of their districts. Five times a day from their graceful
minarets the muezzins call the faithful to prayers.
Many of the Turks, especially those of foreign birth, are men of noble
bearing, and in their way are polite; but the Arab Moslems are the most
despicable of beings, guilty of all the crimes forbidden in the Five
Books of Moses. Among the most idle, reveling, and villainous class of
men in the city are the Dervishes, the embodiment of fanaticism and the
cause of nearly all the religious troubles which occur within the town.
In their devotions they are the Pharisees of modern times. Whether at
the corner of the streets, or in the crowded bazar, or on the house-top,
wherever the hour of prayer overtakes them, they count their rosaries,
perform their genuflexions, and recite their Koran prayers. During
our stay in Jerusalem the Mohammedan fast called “Ramadan” occurred,
lasting from moon till moon. At four o’clock P.M. on the eleventh of
March the commencement of the fast was announced by a cannon from the
Tower of Hippicus. All that night long the balconies of the several
minarets were brilliantly illuminated, and amid the glory of a thousand
lamps the sonorous voice of the muezzin was heard chanting, “God is
great; Mohammed is his prophet; rise up and offer prayer; prayer is
better than sleep.” Throughout that month no faithful follower of the
Prophet ate from sunrise till sunset, but the booming of the evening
gun was the signal for a night of rioting and feasting. On the evening
of the 7th of April seven guns from Hippicus announced the joyful
intelligence that the “Fast of Ramadan” had ended, which was received
with shouts that awakened the solemn echoes of Olivet, and was
immediately succeeded by the “Feast of Beiram,” at which gluttony is
the prevailing sin.
Like other religious bodies, the Mohammedans are divided into sects,
which have originated in the different interpretations of the Koran
by certain doctors whose names they bear. Deriving their faith from
four principal sources――the Koran, the traditions of the Prophet,
the Concordance of his primitive disciples, and from analogy, they
hold to two cardinal truths: “There is no God but God, and Mohammed
is his prophet.” Believing their religious system, like the Mosaic
dispensation, to be a part of the scheme of the Gospel, and not
an antagonism to it, they regard their sacred writings to be the
restoration of the Pentateuch, the Psalms of David, and the Four
Gospels to their original purity. Revering Adam, Noah, Abraham, Moses,
and Jesus as great prophets, to each of whom was delivered a portion
of a grand system of laws and morals, they believe each succeeding
revelation superseded the preceding one, and that the honor of
receiving the last and grandest of all the Divine communications of God
to man was reserved for Mohammed, whose name the pious Moslem always
associates with that of Jehovah. They also hold to the existence of
good and bad angels, to the immortality of the soul, the resurrection
of the dead, a general judgment, and to heaven and hell. They believe
in the miraculous birth of Christ; that he was the Messiah and the Word
of God; that, after he had accomplished his mission on earth, he was
received up into heaven without suffering the pain of death――another
person on whom God had stamped the likeness of Jesus was crucified in
his stead; and, finally, that Christ is to come again to establish
the _Mohammedan religion_ in the earth, and his advent will be the
pre-intimation of the world’s destruction and the consummation of
time.[241]
Oppressed by their haughty masters, the Jews of Jerusalem reside in
the empire city of their ancestors in the most abject poverty, despised
by the Turk and lamented by the Christian. Numbering more than 7700
souls, their wretched homes cling to the eastern declivities of Zion,
extending down into the Tyropean Valley. Here, where in happier days
each man was a prince and each home a palace, they dwell as pensioners
upon the charities of their brethren abroad. As in London and Paris,
Rotterdam and Rome, Constantinople and Cairo, the Jewish Quarter is
remarkable only for squalidity, and the redolence of old clothes and
second-handed wares in general. Induced by patriotism, by devotion,
by charity, most of the Jewish population are foreign born, and have
sought a home and a tomb in the city of their fathers.
As in the days of Christ, the Jews are divided into rival sects――the
Sephardim and the Askenazim. The former are of Spanish origin, and
are the descendants of those whom Ferdinand and Isabella banished in
1497 A.D., presenting the rare instance of persons having been exiled
to their native land. Their language is a mixture of Spanish and Arabic;
and, though subjects of the Sultan, they are suffered to maintain a
distinct community, governed by their Rabbinical laws. Numbering about
four thousand, they have four synagogues, and are subject to a council
of seven rabbis, and a high-priest called “the Head in Zion.” Their
poverty is the most abject, their filth the most indescribable, their
wretchedness the most complete imaginable. Their brethren of the
Askenazim order are principally of German and Polish extraction, and
number in all less than four thousand souls. Having been readmitted to
Palestine in the beginning of the present century, they remain subject
to the consuls of their respective countries. Being mostly paupers,
they are allowed six dollars per annum for support, which is the
amount _per capita_ drawn from the contributions remitted to them
from the rich Jews in other lands. Hoping to enlighten their minds and
preserve a knowledge of their religion, thirty-six reading-rooms have
been opened for their instruction, in which teachers are employed to
instruct them in the Talmud and other religious works. With becoming
regularity they keep the feast of the Passover, observe their Sabbath,
and assemble on Friday in their “place of reading” to recite the
lamentations of their prophets.
On the Monday night succeeding Palm Sunday was celebrated the Jewish
Passover, which I was invited to witness by a Christian merchant of
Jerusalem, whose reputation among the Jews made him a welcome guest.
The paschal moon shone softly as we threaded the narrow streets winding
up the steep acclivities of Zion. Calling first on a family of moderate
circumstances, we found them already seated around the table, engaged
in the preliminary devotions of the feast. Since the loss of their
nationality the Jews celebrate this festival at their homes, and in
an unpretending manner observe as far as possible the requisitions
of their law. In obedience to the command, all the members of the
household were present, including parents, sons and daughters, and
daughters-in-law. The dwelling had been carefully cleansed of old
leaven by the father of the family; and, that his search into every
nook and cranny might not seem fruitless, the busy housewife had
purposely placed bits of old bread in such parts of the building where
they would certainly meet his eye, and which he destroyed with much ado.
The apartment in which the family were enjoying their annual feast was
a large square room with vaulted ceiling. The table had been prepared
with great neatness and care. On each plate was a bit of lamb, a piece
of unleavened bread, a few bitter herbs, and for each person there was
a glass of wine. Three lamps were burning on the table, and as many
were suspended from the ceiling directly above――symbols of the Trinity.
Observing a vacant chair and a well-filled plate, with a goblet of wine
before it, I was informed the vacant place was for the Prophet Elias,
whom they expected would come, and for whom they wished to be prepared
at any moment. To represent the hasty departure of their fathers from
Egypt, and in obedience to the paschal law, each person was attired as
for a journey: “With your loins girded, your shoes on your feet, and
your staff in your hand; ye shall eat it in haste: it is the Lord’s
passover.” To illustrate how their ancestors had spoiled the Egyptians
in borrowing “jewels of silver and jewels of gold, and raiment,” they
had attired themselves in their best apparel, adorned their persons
with their most costly ornaments, and decorated the table with whatever
silver and gold ware they possessed. The father, who was a man in the
prime of life, sat at the head of the table, the mother, a neat-looking
woman, sat at the opposite end, the three daughters were arranged on
one side, and the two sons on the other. In a chanting tone the eldest
son read from the book of Exodus the story and deliverance of the
Israelites, while the whole family recited portions of their history
in concert. Alternately they were jubilant and indignant: when Moses
triumphed they shouted; when Pharaoh was cruel they cursed him, and in
their rage they dipped their finger in the wine, and, allowing it to
drop upon the floor, they enumerated therewith the plagues of Egypt,
declaring Pharaoh should not have a drop of wine to cool his parched
tongue. The Scripture recitation over, they began to eat, exclaiming,
as they tasted the herb, “Bitter, bitter!”[242]
Ascending a pair of winding stairs, we entered another apartment,
where, beside a Jewess and a little girl, three venerable Jews were
partaking of their annual feast with much good cheer. The story of the
ancestral sufferings had been recited, and they were engaged in common
table-talk. The lady of the house was affable, and her little daughter
so clean and pretty as to excite affection and merit a present.
Contrary to expectation as well as to the law, they offered us a piece
of unleavened bread――which was made of flour and water, and baked in
the form of a thin cake――and a bit of herb, not unlike American lettuce,
and exceedingly bitter to the taste. The three old Jews were advanced
in years beyond the allotted time of human life, and their white hair,
with their long flowing beards, gave them a patriarchal appearance.
They conversed freely as to their national and religious condition,
regarding themselves under the Turks as degraded and oppressed as their
fathers were under the oppressive domination of Pharaoh. Yet they were
not without hope; “Elias would soon come; the proud Moslem would be
overthrown, their land delivered, and their ancient capital restored to
all its primal glory.”
Again winding through the lane-like streets, into which the pale
moonlight came struggling through the broken arcade that spanned the
thoroughfare, we reached the residence of a rich Jewish banker, and
rapped at the court-yard gate, but received the scriptural reply,
“I know you not.” From the street we could see the brilliantly-lighted
room where the paschal feast was held――the elegantly-robed Jewesses,
as they passed by the window――and heard the voices of joy and devotion
within. The lateness of the hour, and the banker’s fear lest the
display of his plate and jewels might expose him to the rapacity of
the Turk, were the probable causes of his refusal to admit us. Standing
without in the chilly air of night, the time and scene recalled the
Savior’s parable of the Strait Gate: “When once the master of the house
is risen up, and hath shut-to the door, and ye begin to stand without,
and to knock at the door, saying, Lord, Lord, open unto us; and he
shall answer and say unto you, I know you not whence ye are.”[243]
Retracing our steps, we followed a narrow alley, on whose rough
pavement our lantern threw a flickering light, and came to a dwelling
occupied by two families. In a small room there lived a poor but
industrious Jew and his wife, whose inability to keep the Passover
alone induced him to invite to his abode a widow and her two daughters.
Expressing surprise at her absence from home on that important festival
night, the kind-hearted Jew reminded me of the provision of the paschal
law that, “if the household be too little for the lamb, let him and
his neighbor next unto his house take it according to the number of
the souls.”[244] In the adjoining room lived the banker’s clerk, who
explained why his master did not receive us. Unwilling to allow a
stranger to see the immense amount of gold and silver in his possession,
his cautiousness was the reason assigned for the seeming discourtesy,
as his external poverty must be the safeguard of his valuable
possessions. Restrained by no such fears, the clerk received us with
great cordiality. His sons and daughters, and all his grandchildren,
had gathered beneath the parental roof, and, forgetting Israel’s
ancient sorrows and present misfortunes, they gave themselves up to the
freedom and unbounded joy of home. They laughed and talked, sang and
shouted, ate and drank, as their emotions rose or appetite demanded.
The day succeeding Good Friday was the Jewish Sabbath, and was a
“high day” with the Hebrews. Hastening to their large plain synagogue,
I found them already thronging their altars. _En route_ I met the
high-priest, accompanied by his two sons, successors to his priestly
office. His bearing was noble, his face calm and intelligent; and
his lofty checkered turban and flowing robes of yellow Syrian cloth
imparted to him an air of dignity and rendered him an object of
attraction. Whatever may be their reputed poverty, those who crowded
the synagogue were well attired. Behind a lattice-work the Jewesses
were engaged in their devotions, while the men occupied the centre
of the edifice. Most of the latter were aged, and wore an intelligent
countenance; but there was one whose fiendish aspect and quarrelsome
manner recalled the rabble whose cry against the Innocent was, “Crucify
him! crucify him!” Nature had qualified him for an executioner, and
his depravity had fitted him for the worst of deeds. He was a short,
thick-set, powerful man, his face round and compact, his nose broad and
flat, his mouth large and compressed, his eyes black, and burning with
rage. Displeased at every person in his presence, he cursed each who
passed him, and was the terror of the old men, who dreaded his fury.
His ugly face haunts my memory still. He was possessed. He represents
the murderers of our Lord. At the door stood two venerable Jews, one
holding a lemon and the other a herb, and, as the people came out, they
kissed the one and smelled the other.
With a view to dispel the ignorance which, like the pall of death,
enshrouds the Jewish mind, generous efforts have been made within
the last quarter of a century to ameliorate the condition of those
whose temporary or permanent abode is in Jerusalem. By a munificent
donation from Mr. Touro, of New Orleans, a new Jewish hospital has
been erected just beyond the Yâffa Gate, on the right of the road
leading to Bethlehem. Constructed of stone, with a handsome exterior,
and containing forty beds, it is governed by a manager, a steward and
stewardess. Attached to it is a farm and a fruit nursery, which in
coming years will be of great value to the institution. It is the most
home-like looking building either in the city or in its environs, and
the inmates who lounge beneath its spacious portico are immeasurably
happier than those who reside in stone hovels within the town. Though
it is the gift of an American citizen, Sir Moses Montefiore bears
the honor of being the founder of the hospital. Acting simply as
disbursing agent or trustee for the fund, Sir Moses should have had
the magnanimity to disabuse the public mind, and render honor to the
distinguished benefactor.
Within Jerusalem there are several institutions for the religious
benefit of this fallen people. The School of Industry for Jewesses,
under Miss Cooper, of England, is not far from the Church of the Holy
Sepulchre, on the street leading to the Damascus Gate. Nearly forty
Jewesses, between the ages of ten and fifty, are there employed. Their
chief work is embroidery and needle-work, some of which is so excellent
as to adorn the garments of the Pasha. The inmates labor four days in
the week; in summer from seven o’clock till twelve, and in winter from
eight till one. The building is divided into three departments――the
work-room, bazar, and school-room. Twelve Jewesses attend the
day-school, eleven the boarding-school; and seven, who are proselytes,
between the ages of five and fifteen, are permanent boarders. Strong
in their traditional faith, and because of the influence of the morning
and evening service in the institution, the parents of these children
give the governess no little trouble in attempting to regain them to
the faith of their national church.
To the west of the female school is the House of Industry for Converts
and Inquirers, under the auspices of the “London Society for promoting
Religion among the Jews.” The inquirers are maintained gratuitously
for two years, though required to labor at some mechanical trade. Most
of the inmates are cabinet-makers, manufacturing useful and curious
articles out of olive-wood and other kinds indigenous to the country.
All the beneficiaries are males, ranging from sixteen to forty-five
years of age. A portion of each day is devoted to such religious
instruction and devotion as may lead these sons of Israel to Christ.
Since the establishment of the institution in 1848, forty-two
converts have been baptized in the name of the adorable Trinity, and
a proselyte-meeting is daily held and well attended. With a clearness
worthy of maturer Christians, some of the converts answered our
questions touching their religious experience, and, if faithful to
their high calling, will be lights to their brethren in the Holy City.
Among the Christian sects in Jerusalem, the Armenians are the most
wealthy, aristocratic, and influential. Their chief establishment is
on Mount Zion, consisting of the gorgeous Church of St. James, and a
spacious convent capable of accommodating eight thousand pilgrims. Here,
in a new and magnificent apartment, their patriarch resides, whose
episcopal jurisdiction includes all Palestine and the beautiful island
of Cyprus. Their communicants number about five hundred, who are mostly
foreign born, and are among the chief merchants in the metropolis.
Their hundred priests are fine-looking men, attired in neat black
robes, and high hats of the same color without brims. They employ
their time in conducting two theological schools for the education of
neophyte priests, in running a printing-press, and in clerical duties.
In doctrine the Armenians are Monophysites; in ritual, pompous; in
practice, “good livers.”
Priding themselves on the power of their royal patrons, the Greek and
Latin Christians are contesting their respective claims to superiority.
Together with their patriarch, who is head of the Church, the Greeks
have three hundred bishops, priests, nuns, and theological students.
The patriarch resides in elegant style in a convent attached to the
Church of the Holy Sepulchre, in which there is a fine library of two
thousand volumes. Extending his episcopal sceptre over fourteen sees,
he also controls with absolute authority the twelve convents for monks
and nuns within the city, to which are connected as many churches.
In addition to a theological seminary and three common schools, they
have a college of a high grade in the Convent of the Cross, a mile and
a half west of the city, where one hundred young men have entered a
collegiate course of seven years, maintained and educated gratuitously
by Russian gold. Not less than four thousand people are under their
pastoral care, most of whom are native born. Their ancient rivals, the
Latins, are rising rapidly to affluence and power in the Holy City.
Occupying conjointly with the Greeks and Armenians the Church of the
Holy Sepulchre, they hold exclusive possession of the Chapel of the
Apparition, their principal place of worship in Jerusalem. Numbering
not less than fifteen hundred communicants, who are mostly Syrian
born, they have a patriarch, a hundred monks, and ten nuns. Subject to
their control are a number of churches, schools, and convents. Among
the latter is their famous _Terra Santa_ Convent on Mount Akra. It is
celebrated for its immense treasures, the gifts of European royalty,
and no traveler should leave Jerusalem without seeing those munificent
donations. A hundred Franciscan friars here abide, living in luxury,
and, though moderately temperate themselves, are only too happy
to offer their guests a glass of the choicest arrakee. Here is the
residence of the superior of the convent, who is always an Italian,
appointed by the Pope every three years. For the maintenance of this
monastic establishment a sum not less than $45,000 is annually expended.
Connected with it is the Casa Nuovo, for the entertainment of pilgrims
gratuitously for two weeks, though a gift is never refused; and here is
the grand bazar of pious wares, where the curious traveler may purchase
rosaries, crosses, and crucifixes to any amount.
A monastic life leads to indolence and contention, and the Greek
and Latin monks of Jerusalem are ignorant and idle, domineering and
quarrelsome, and unworthy representatives of the Christian name. No
one familiar with their character and devotion can regard them as the
true successors of the apostles, or that the faithful missionary spirit
underlies their zeal for temporal and spiritual conquest. It is the
ancient love of power, and the perpetuation of the controversy which
rent the Church of God in the ninth century. Watching the movements
of each other with a jealousy as persistent as it is revengeful, their
rivalries engender bitter contentions, which, culminating in a quarrel
and a riot, the infidel Turk is compelled to suppress by force of arms.
By a conventional arrangement, they visit in procession the sacred
shrines in the Church of the Holy Sepulchre at stated hours on ordinary
days, and also on festival occasions. The Greeks have the precedence,
and the Latins follow. Occasionally their festivals occur on the same
day and at the same hour, when their sectarian virulence gaining the
mastery of their piety and reason, they aim to silence each other by
louder vocal and instrumental sounds. Such was the case on Easter
Sunday. Though not their Easter, it was a high day with the Greeks. As
in all basilicas, a broad aisle encircles the interior of the church,
serving as a path for the march of the procession. The chapel of the
Latins opens into this aisle on the west, and at that time they were
intoning the Easter service. Attired in their most gorgeous robes, and
followed by an immense concourse of people, the Greeks had made the
circuit of the church, and, turning their faces toward the open chapel
of the Latins, chanted a barbaric hymn with such force that for a
moment the Catholics were unable to proceed. Fortunately, the organist
came to the rescue of his bishop, and, opening the stops of his
magnificent organ, so thundered with his instrument as to compel the
Greeks to beat a retreat.
With all their admiration for the Church of St. Helena, their mutual
jealousies are allowing the building to fall to ruin for the want of
timely repairs. The rain, beating in through the circular aperture in
the dome, has so far detached the plastering as to leave the lathing
exposed. After every storm large quantities of the plaster fall, and,
while present on one occasion, a piece fell to the injury of a personal
friend. Supposing it would be a concession of the right of possession
to allow either sect to repair the dome and save the church from ruin,
both parties refuse to do it conjointly, and neither will allow the
other to do it separately.
France and Russia would confer an unspeakable benediction upon the
world, and remove a scandal from the Christian name, by stopping
such petty feuds, and demanding a reconciliation no less humane than
Christian. But it is to be feared the emperors of those great nations
have political designs in the East to be consummated which are promoted
rather than retarded by such ecclesiastical broils. Both aspire to
empire in the Holy Land. More fortunate than the Emperor of the North,
Napoleon III., as the imperial patron of the Latin Church, has received,
as a consideration for the services rendered the Turkish government in
the Crimean war, the venerable Church of St. Anne, near St. Stephen’s
Gate, and the beautiful green square opposite the Church of the Holy
Sepulchre, which was once the possession of the Knights of St. John.
Russian gold, however, has purchased what Turkish liberality had
withheld. In the East, “money answereth all things.” A Turk will sell
his soul for gold. Under the auspices of the Russian government, a
piece of ground beyond the city walls on the northwest side has been
purchased, and sixteen thousand square yards have been inclosed by a
stone wall, not unlike, in strength and appearance, the wall of a fort.
Within the inclosure four water-tanks have been constructed, several
buildings erected, the Cathedral of the Holy Trinity, a large house for
the ecclesiastical mission, a hospital containing sixty beds, and an
asylum capable of receiving three hundred pilgrims. For the completion
of this extraordinary work on the Meidan the Russian pilgrims to the
shrines of the Holy City have contributed 660,000 rubles, and a farther
sum of 350,000 is required to complete the original design. Within the
city the Russians are erecting an asylum for female pilgrims, which
in every way will be worthy of the wealth and power of their nation.
In excavating to lay the foundation of this building, the workmen
descended through the rubbish thirty-five feet, when they came upon
the remains of porticoes and pillars which once formed part of the
principal entrance to the Church of the Holy Sepulchre in the time
of Constantine the Great. It is an event of thrilling interest to the
archæologist and Biblical scholar; and were a commission appointed
by the several Christian nations of the earth to secure the consent
of the Turkish government, and to superintend the excavation, ancient
Jerusalem might be uncovered, the palaces of her kings exhumed, and the
paths trodden by the world’s Redeemer pressed by the willing feet of
his devoted followers.
For more than forty years the light of a pure Christianity has
been shining upon the city of David, dispelling the mists of error,
revealing new forms of moral beauty, and lighting up the path of life.
In 1841, the European mission to Jerusalem was modified and its several
branches united under a common head, whose episcopal supervision
includes Mesopotamia, Chaldea, Syria, Palestine, Egypt, and Abyssinia.
Uniting in this religious compact, England and Prussia agreed that the
diocesan bishop should be nominated alternately by the sovereigns of
the two kingdoms, with the right of veto invested in the Archbishop
of Canterbury as to the Prussian nominee. The only stipulations in
the contract are the right to alternate with the British sovereign
in appointing the incumbent of the Episcopal see, and the use of the
cathedral when not occupied by the English Christians. True to her
traditional policy to gain all things and lose nothing by her treaties,
England consented, and the treaty was ratified. To support the bishop,
the late Frederick William of Prussia funded $75,000, and England
contributes annually a sum equal to the interest on the above amount.
The foundation stone of the new Protestant Cathedral was laid by Bishop
Alexander in 1842, on Mount Zion, and consecrated to God on the 1st of
January, 1849. To comply with the exacting conditions imposed by the
Turkish government, the church was built in connection with the English
consulate. It is now called “Christ Church,” and is an elegant Gothic
structure of yellow limestone, capable of accommodating 300 persons.
Attached to it is a large plat of ground, occupied by residences and
offices for the clergy and agents of the mission. Bishop Gobart, the
present incumbent of the see, is a man of genuine Episcopal dignity;
his face is kind and intelligent; his heart has the pathos of a woman’s.
His Easter sermon was simple, tender, evangelical. He enlists your
attention by the tenderness of his tones, and melts you to tears by the
depth of his emotion. He is a Christian of large charities, maintaining
out of his ample income several schools in different parts of Palestine.
He is assisted by the Rev. Mr. Hefter, an eminent scholar and a
thorough gentleman, and by the Rev. Dr. Sandriczki, who has the general
oversight of the literature of the mission. Near the church on Mount
Zion is the Bible House, well supplied with the precious Word of Life.
Not far from it is the female school, containing thirty native pupils;
and beyond the wall on Zion, in a substantial stone building, is the
male department, in which eighty boys were being educated for Christ by
five Christian teachers.
In connection with the Prussian consulate is Pastor Valentiner,
chaplain to Dr. Rosen, one of the most learned men in Palestine. Under
the auspices of the consulate is a school for children and a hospital
for poor pilgrims. The building is pleasantly situated on Mount Zion,
and contains forty-one girls and as many boys, who are taught five
different languages, with other branches of knowledge. These children
are required to remain, by contract, from five to eight years, and,
if the contract is broken by their parents, they are to pay the amount
of expense incurred. The pupils represent nearly every nation, whose
pilgrim parents have either abandoned them in a strange land, or died
far from home. The “House of Charity” is governed by six deaconesses,
principally Prussians. They dress in a simple blue gown and a clean
white cap. They are excellent women and efficient teachers. The rules
of their order require them to remain single during a fixed term
of years, at the expiration of which most of them marry. Their home
is often the scene of the most thrilling events. Shortly prior to
our arrival in Jerusalem, a Turk had reached the city, and having
squandered his money in pleasure, was compelled to abandon his two
slave girls――one a beautiful Circassian, the other a dark Abyssinian.
Touched with their sad condition, the kind deaconesses received them
to their “House of Charity.” The former, after a brief time, embraced
religion, was baptized, and died happy. The latter appeared stupid, and,
when addressed on the subject of religion, declared herself “a donkey.”
She had attained her fourteenth year, and, after six months under the
tuition of those Christian women, who watched her last moments with the
fondness of sisters, she died of scrofula. Every effort to enlighten
her mind had been unavailing, eliciting her only reply, “I am a donkey.”
But, to the surprise of all, on the night of her death she requested
baptism at the hands of Pastor Valentiner, to whose inquiry why she
desired the holy rite administered to her, referred him to the death of
the Circassian slave, whose experience she had watched, and whose last
joyful accents she had carefully cherished. Expressing as her last wish
on earth to go where slaves are free and where woman is loved, she
passed from earth to heaven.