projecting mass of rock—there are many such round Hebron—which rose in
the field of Ephron the Hittite. The trees which bordered it[54] were
probably co-extensive with the walls which now enclose the Haram of the
Mosque. At a very early period, probably not later than the times of
David or Solomon, an edifice was erected over the cave. The stones are
of great size, with the characteristic Jewish bevel. Dr. Wilson measured
one which was thirty-eight feet in length. The architecture is peculiar,
being neither Saracenic nor Christian. A series of flat pilasters run
round the sides. From the main entrance a flight of stone steps runs up
between the outer wall and the mosque. We thus rise from the bottom of
the cliff in the face of which was the entrance of the cave up to the
top. Into the cave itself no one is allowed to enter. Even the mosque is
guarded with jealous care. No Jew or Christian had been permitted to set
foot within it, until, after immense difficulty, permission was granted
to the Prince of Wales and his suite in the year 1862. Within the last
few years the severity of the restriction has been somewhat relaxed. In
the year 1873, I was allowed to go about halfway up the flight of steps
outside the mosque and to put my hand through a hole in the wall, which
I was told led into the cave. I was then led round the outside on to the
roof, that I might look down through the lattice-work of a tower into
the mosque. All, however, was perfectly dark, and I could see nothing.
The locality of the shrines was pointed out to me, which agreed with the
description given by Dean Stanley in the narrative of his visit with the
Prince of Wales.
[Illustration: ARRANGEMENT OF TOMBS IN CAVE OF MACHPELAH.]
It is to Dean Stanley that we are indebted for our knowledge of the
interior. He found the chapels or shrines of the patriarchs and their
wives, arranged in order, over the places where the bodies were said to
lie in the cave beneath. They stand as in the annexed plan.
As we turn away from the secret and mysterious cave, where lie the ashes
of the illustrious dead, under the jealous care of their Arab guardians,
hallowed memories and yet more hallowed hopes suggest themselves. The
hushed silence of well-nigh four thousand years shall one day be broken,
and He, who is “the resurrection and the life,” shall call forth the
sleepers from their resting-place of ages.
“What though the Moslem mosque be in the valley!
Though faithless hands have sealed the sacred cave!
And the red prophet’s children shout ‘El Allah’
Over the Hebrews’ grave!
Yet a day cometh when those white walls shaking
Shall give again to light the living dead;
And Abraham, Isaac, Jacob reawaking
Spring from their rocky bed.”
On the return from Hebron, a slight detour by a road leading through
vineyards brings us to a magnificent tree known as ABRAHAM’S OAK. Here
according to tradition, Abraham sat at the door of his tent, when he
received the visit of the angels.[55] It is a stately Syrian oak, of the
species known to the Arabs as _Sindiân_. Though of great age it is
obviously later than the Christian era. Yet it well deserves a visit,
not only for its great size and beauty, but as the last survivor of the
grove of oaks, which stood here in Patriarchal and Hebrew times. It
measures twenty-three feet round the trunk, and its branches cover an
area in one direction of fifty feet, and of ninety feet in another. Its
situation answers admirably to the biblical description of Mamre, being
“before” or “over against” Machpelah, whilst from the hill above it a
view, already referred to,[56] of the plain of Sodom is gained. Here,
therefore, I should fix the site of Mamre rather than at Rhamet el
Khulil (the Hill of the Friend), which stands some distance to the
north.
[Illustration: ABRAHAM’S OAK NEAR HEBRON.]
[Illustration: Head-Piece—Bethlehem]
BETHLEHEM TO THE DEAD SEA.
IT was a brilliant morning in early spring as we rode along the
hill-side over the Wady Urtas from Solomon’s Pools to BETHLEHEM. The
turf was vividly green, gemmed with innumerable flowers. Orchards of
peach, apricot, and pomegranate with their white and scarlet blossoms,
succeeded one another in an unbroken series along the valley. The
conduit, which conducts the water from Solomon’s Pools to Jerusalem, and
which in ancient times supplied the Temple, was open in various places,
and we could see the crystal stream flash past on its way to “make glad
the city of God.”[57] The Jebel Fureidis, a steep conical mountain,
visible from almost every point in Southern Palestine, formed a striking
object in the landscape. “The little hills rejoice on every side; the
pastures are clothed with flocks; the valleys also are covered over with
corn; they shout for joy, they also sing.”[58] Wherever we turn our eyes
the words of the Psalmist are suggested as the aptest description of the
scenery. It was easy to see where the Shepherd of Bethlehem drew the
materials for his poetry.
[Illustration: Initial—The Dead Sea]
Soon Bethlehem[59] comes into view—a white-walled village of about three
thousand inhabitants, all Christians. They are, however, a turbulent,
quarrelsome set, ever fighting amongst themselves or with their
neighbours. In the disturbances which take place so frequently at
Jerusalem, it is said that the ringleaders are commonly found to be
Bethlehemites. The women are remarkable for personal beauty. I saw more
handsome faces here in a few hours than elsewhere in the East in many
days. The dress, which is peculiar, is very becoming. A sort of tiara of
some bright metal encircles the head over which is folded a white cloth
which hangs down upon the shoulders. The men are strong, lithe,
well-built fellows, and I saw several young shepherds, who were models
of manly vigour. Here, as elsewhere in the East, the pastoral pipe is in
constant use. The shepherd-lad makes it for himself, shaping the
mouth-piece out of some hard wood, and using a hollow reed for the pipe.
I cannot say much in praise of the music they produce.
[Illustration: GATE OF BETHLEHEM.]
Bethlehem stands on the crest of a ridge of Jurassic limestone. As it is
surmounted by higher hills, however, the view from it is not very
extensive. Jerusalem, though only six miles distant, is hidden by an
intervening height. But through the valleys stretching away eastward to
the Dead Sea, fine views are gained of the mountains of Moab, and from
the flat roof of the Latin Convent part of the Dead Sea itself is
visible.
[Illustration: WOMEN OF BETHLEHEM.]
Passing over the two disgraceful events connected with Bethlehem, during
the period of anarchy described in the concluding chapters of the Book
of Judges,[60] we come to that exquisite idyll, the beauty of which,
apart from its religious bearing, invests the scene with a charm,
amounting to fascination. Read the history of Ruth on the spot, and
every minutest detail acquires a new interest and meaning. We can trace
the journey of Elimelech and his family, as, driven by stress of famine,
they make their way toward that long line of purple mountains against
the eastern sky—some twenty miles distant. We see the two childless
widows return—Naomi, proud and bitter in her poverty and bereavement,
rejecting the greetings of the townspeople: “Call me not Naomi
(_pleasant_), call me Mara (_bitter_): for the Almighty hath dealt very
bitterly with me. I went out full, and the Lord hath brought me home
again empty: why then call ye me Naomi, seeing the Lord hath testified
against me, and the Almighty hath afflicted me?”[61] We see the young
Moabitess with her strange beauty and gentleness winning all hearts.
Amongst the youths and maidens around us, it is easy to believe that her
descendants are not wanting.
[Illustration: SHEPHERD OF BETHLEHEM.]
[Illustration: EASTERN GLEANERS.]
We may still see the fields of wheat and barley in the valley below us
from which “Boaz went _up_ to the gate.”[62] We may still hear the very
same greeting as when “Boaz said unto the reapers, The Lord be with you,
and they answered him, The Lord bless thee.”[63] We may see the reapers
resting at noonday, sheltered from the fierce heat of the sun by some
spreading tree, dipping their morsel of bread into the vinegar or eating
their parched corn from the ears,[64] the gleaners bearing home the
wheat and barley they have gathered in the coarse cloth which serves the
peasant women for a veil, or beating it out by the roadside that they
may carry it more easily.[65] Yonder are the threshing-floors in the
field where the master will spend the nights of harvest to protect his
produce from robbers.[66] And here is the gate of the city where Boaz
sat with the elders to redeem the possession that was Elimelech’s and
take the beautiful young widow to wife.[67] Well was the nuptial
benediction fulfilled, “The Lord make the woman that is come into thine
house like Rachel and like Leah, which two did build the house of
Israel: and do thou worthily in Ephratah, and be famous in
Bethlehem.”[68]
Nearly a hundred years must have elapsed before we hear again of
Bethlehem, for the grandson of Boaz and Ruth is now an old man.[69] He
is the father of eight stalwart sons, the youngest of whom keeps his
father’s sheep upon the mountain-side. Though treated as of no account
by the elders of the family,[70] he is yet called David (the darling),
is described as “ruddy, blue-eyed, and beautiful;”[71] he is already
famous as a musician, and has distinguished himself for strength,
courage, wit, and piety.[72] These qualities commend him to the servants
of Saul, and he is chosen to play before the moody king and charm away
his gloom.[73]
The life of a Bethlehemite shepherd was one of no common toil and
danger, and it remains so down to the present day. Hordes of wandering
Bedouin are waiting to swoop down upon the flocks and herds of the
peaceful inhabitants, and need to be watched against with ceaseless
vigilance and repelled with fearless courage. Bears descend from the
neighbouring mountains. Lions have disappeared, but in the days of David
they came up from their lairs in the valley of the Dead Sea, driven
forth by the swelling of the Jordan. The prowess of the shepherd lad had
been tried against these, familiar perils.[74] Yet, modest and pious, as
he was strong and bold, he ascribes his success to the Lord, who taught
his hands to war and his fingers to fight.[75] No wonder that He who
“seeth not as man seeth, for the man looketh on the outward appearance,
but the Lord looketh on the heart,”[76] should have rejected the elder
sons of Jesse and directed his prophet to anoint the youngest as the
future king.
[Illustration: ENTRANCE TO CAVE OF ADULLAM.]
His chequered fortunes now lead him away from Bethlehem and we hear of
him no more in his actual birth-place. But the cave of Adullam was not
far distant. The limestone rocks of the district abound in caves, many
of them of great size. The one which is said by tradition to have been
the retreat of David and his followers is about five miles from
Bethlehem, near the base of Jebel Fureidis or the Frank Mountain already
spoken of as so striking an object in the landscape. It is approached by
a savage ravine, after which a steep ascent leads upward by a path so
narrow that a handful of brave men might keep a whole army at bay. The
entrance to the cave is by a small opening through which only a single
person can pass at a time. This leads to a series of chambers, some
large enough to hold several hundred men. A perfect labyrinth of
galleries and passages, never fully explored, stretch in every
direction, and are said by the Arabs to go as far as Tekoa. In one of
them is a large cistern, supplied, probably, by filtration through the
rock above. The largest chamber has an arched roof with numerous
recesses in the sides, reminding visitors of a gothic cathedral. Here
David, living in the midst of his own clan, would be promptly warned of
the approach of danger, and could easily receive supplies of food. The
summit of the hill above commands a view of the whole surrounding
district, so that the movements of his enemies could be watched in every
direction. His familiarity with the wild glens and strongholds of the
district, gained whilst keeping his father’s sheep, would prove an
immense advantage in flying from his pursuers. And the proximity to Moab
secured for him a safe retreat if hard pressed. In Moab, too, he found
friends and relatives, in virtue of his descent from “Ruth the
Moabitess,” to whom he committed his parents when they were exposed to
danger from the vindictive fury of Saul.[77] The phrase that “his
brethren and all his father’s house went _down_ thither unto him,”[78]
which at first suggests a difficulty, from the fact that the cave is
high up on the mountain-side, finds an easy explanation as we observe
that from Bethlehem they must first descend into the Wady Urtas and wind
along down the ravine. In the references to this cave, as everywhere in
Scripture, the narrative is in such exact and minute agreement with the
topography of the district that it could only have been written by an
eye-witness.
[Illustration: CAVE OF ADULLAM.]
It was whilst hiding here with his wild and outlawed followers that the
touching incident occurred of his longing for the “water of the well of
Bethlehem, that is at the gate.”[79] The worn and weary fugitive who
compares himself to “a partridge hunted upon the mountains,”[80] goes
back to the peaceful happy days of his shepherd life. He remembers the
time when, leading his flocks homeward in the evening after a day of
sultry heat on the mountain-side, he had quenched his thirst at the
familiar well, just as we had seen the shepherds doing on the same spot.
Were ever days so happy! Was ever water so sweet! The “three mighty
ones,” eager to gratify the faintest wish of their beloved chief, break
through the beleaguering host of the Philistines, draw the water from
the well, and return. The hero, reproaching himself for his selfish
wish, that had “put in jeopardy the lives of these men,” refuses to
drink thereof, and pours it out for “a drink-offering to the Lord.”
Only once again does the name of Bethlehem occur in Old Testament
history. The reference, though slight and incidental, has an important
bearing on the site of the Nativity. When David was flying from his
rebellious son Absalom into the region beyond the Jordan, amongst those
who showed kindness to the “dim discrowned king” was Barzillai the
Gileadite.[81] When the rebellion had been crushed, and the king was
about to return to his own land, Barzillai accompanied him across the
Jordan. The grateful monarch invited the old man to go up with him to
Jerusalem as his guest. Barzillai declined the honour, pleading his
advanced age, his growing weakness, his failing sight, saying, “How long
have I to live, that I should go up with the king unto Jerusalem? I am
this day fourscore years old: and can I discern between good and evil?
Can thy servant taste what I eat or what I drink? Can I hear any more
the voice of singing men and singing women? Wherefore then should thy
servant be yet a burden unto my lord the king? Thy servant will go a
little way over Jordan with the king: and why should the king recompense
it me with such a reward? Let thy servant, I pray thee, turn back again,
that I may die in mine own city, and be buried by the grave of my father
and of my mother.”
[Illustration: BETHLEHEM FROM THE SHEPHERDS’ FIELD.]
But the honour which he declines for himself he solicits on behalf of
his son Chimham, who accompanied David on his return to Jerusalem.[82]
Chimham seems to have been treated with peculiar favour, and adopted
into the family of the king; for David, on his death-bed, specially
commended him to the care of Solomon, and requested that he be of “those
that eat at his table.”[83] We find further that he came into possession
of property in or near Bethlehem,[84] which he transmitted to his
descendants, for in the prophecies of Jeremiah “the habitation of
Chimham which is by Bethlehem” is spoken of as a place familiarly known.
That this formed part of the patrimony of David, given to him as an
adopted son, is highly probable, for in no other way can we understand a
Gileadite permanently owning land at Bethlehem.
[Illustration: INTERIOR OF KHAN.]
But the word, translated “house” in Jeremiah, where the Jews assembled
on their way down into Egypt, means a khan or caravanserai. Elsewhere,
it is translated “inn.” What then are we to understand by the khan of
Chimham? It is, and always has been, the custom throughout the East for
places to be provided for travellers—one in each village—where they
might halt for the night. They are generally at distances of six or
seven miles, so as to allow of an easy day’s march from one to another.
Bethlehem thus formed the first stage from Jerusalem, on the way to
Egypt. The duty and honour of providing and maintaining these khans
devolved upon the sheikh or head man of the village, who was empowered
to levy a tax upon the villagers for their support. Sometimes only a
space of ground was staked out and fenced with thorns, so as to furnish
protection against thieves and wild beasts. But often a wealthy sheikh
would erect a substantial edifice, either defraying the cost himself or
seeking aid in the work from the inhabitants. It seems almost certain,
therefore, that Chimham either became Sheikh of Bethlehem, or else that,
out of gratitude to his benefactor, he built a khan on a portion of the
land he received from the king. Of these, the former is the more
probable, and more in accordance with the custom of the country. One
thing, however, seems clear, that long after the time of David, “the
inn” at Bethlehem was well known as the khan of Chimham, and that it
stood on land which had descended by inheritance from Boaz to Jesse, to
David, and to David’s adopted son.[85] Here was to be fulfilled the
prophecy of Micah, “But thou, Bethlehem Ephratah, though thou be little
among the thousands of Judah, yet out of thee shall he come forth unto
Me that is to be ruler in Israel; whose goings forth have been from of
old, from everlasting.”[86]
We thus come to that event, the glory of which transcends every other
which has yet passed under our review. Here the Eternal God veiled yet
manifested Himself in human form. The King of Glory is found “as a babe
wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger.” Omnipotence slumbered
within an infant’s arm. Omniscience lay concealed beneath an infant’s
brow. In the plain below us, the shepherds were keeping their flocks by
night, when they heard the angelic anthem, “Glory to God in the highest,
peace on earth, good will to men.” Up that steep rocky path they came to
see this great sight. Over that mountain-side the Wise Men brought their
gifts of gold and frankincense and myrrh to pay homage to “the Desire of
all nations.” As we stand in the rock-hewn Chapel of the Nativity gazing
upon the silver star on the floor, and read the words HIC DE VIRGINE
MARIA JESUS CHRISTUS NATUS EST, even the most cold and apathetic can
scarcely refrain from tears.
But is this the actual spot? Do we really stand on the very place where
the Virgin “brought forth her first-born son and called His name Jesus”?
There is everything in the surroundings of the place to awaken
scepticism. This series of tawdrily decked chapels in which all the
great events which have happened in Bethlehem are huddled together
within one building almost compel incredulity. Here, for instance, is
the altar of the Holy Innocents, and we are asked to believe that the
remains of twenty thousand infants, slain by Herod, lie buried close by
the place of the nativity, and we are shown the preserved tongue of one
of them! However willing we may be to accept the tradition, as to the
site, we find it difficult to do so when it is mixed up with such
preposterous legends as these.
And yet the evidence for its authenticity is strong, though not quite
conclusive. The church stands upon a spot, just outside the village,
which the inn or khan is very likely to have occupied. The “house of
Chimham by Bethlehem” was well known to the Jews, as we have seen, and
when the khan of a village has been once established it is seldom that
its site is changed. It continues to occupy the same spot from age to
age. We know that so early as the second century, Justin described our
Lord’s birth-place as “a cave near Bethlehem.” And Jerome himself, a
native of Syria and familiar with the customs and traditions of the
country, took up his abode in an adjacent cave, that he might be near
his Lord’s birth-place. The fact that the Chapel of the Nativity is a
grotto, though calculated to excite suspicion, is not of itself fatal.
It is by no means improbable that a cave contiguous to the inn might
have served the purpose of a stable. It should further be remembered
that the church may stand upon the site of the inn even though the
Chapel of the Nativity has been placed in a cave in accordance with an
erroneous and misleading superstition. Dean Stanley, summing up the
evidence for and against the authenticity of the site, concludes with
the remark, “There remains the remarkable fact that the spot was
reverenced by Christians as the birth-place of Christ two centuries
before the conversion of the empire—before that burst of local religion
which is commonly ascribed to the visit of Helena.”
[Illustration: INTERIOR OF THE CHURCH OF THE NATIVITY.]
Whilst feeling that the balance of probability is in favour of the
authenticity of the site, there was one consideration which made me wish
to come to a different conclusion. The degrading superstition and the
disgraceful discord which prevail here are a scandal to the birth-place
of Christianity. Anything more alien to the spirit of the Prince of
Peace can scarcely be conceived than the bitter hostility which rages
amongst the three confessions—Latin, Greek, and Armenian—which share the
sacred shrine. The church—a noble edifice, with stately columns,
probably brought from the Temple at Jerusalem—is no longer used for
worship. It is held by a garrison of Turkish soldiers stationed to
prevent bloodshed amongst the monks and the pilgrims. Passing along the
subterranean gallery, through the long series of gaudy chapels, acts of
idolatry are witnessed the grossness of which recalls the fetish worship
of Africa. Even a coldly scientific geographer like Ritter cannot
refrain from exclaiming, “Bethlehem has thus become a sacred name and a
sacred place, although it is so poor and mean and unimportant; but
unfortunately, to many who visit it, its higher significance is lost:
they kiss the wood of the manger, but it is mere dry wood to them—they
miss the living spirit which once began that earthly career there which
had been prepared for it from before the foundation of the world.”[87]
[Illustration: THE CHURCH OF THE NATIVITY.]
Leaving Bethlehem on the east, the road winds down a rocky slope, past
fields of wheat and barley and terraced vineyards. Innumerable sheep and
goats are seen on the hills around as in the days of Boaz and David. At
the foot a level plain is reached, affording good pasturage, and dotted
over with clumps of olive trees. This is called the Shepherds’ Field,
from the tradition that here they were keeping their flocks by night
when the angels appeared to them. Soon the scenery becomes wild and
desolate. In no part of the world have I seen anything with which to
compare it. If the chalk-downs of the South of England were denuded of
grass, were heaved up and tossed about in the throes of an earthquake,
and the sides of the hills thus formed were cut into ravines by the fury
of winter torrents, it would afford some illustration of the weird
desolation of this Wilderness of Judea. The gorge of the Kedron runs
steeply down from Jerusalem to the Dead Sea, a descent of nearly four
thousand feet. The wadies which seam the mountain-sides are dry in the
summer, but in the winter form the beds of roaring torrents. Now and
then a glimpse of the Dead Sea is gained—the deep blue of its waters
gaining an additional intensity from the red or purple of the mountains
of Moab, which form the background of the landscape. The black tents of
the Bedouin, their flocks and herds feeding on the mountain-sides, an
Arab horseman, or a string of camels with their noiseless tread, are the
only signs of life in this region of sterility.