_Description of Jerusalem_.
Pilgrimages to the Holy Land; Arculfus; Willibald; Bernard; Effect of
Crusades; William de Bouldessell; Bertrandon de la Broquiere; State of
Damascus; Breidenbach; Baumgarten; Bartholemeo Georgewitz; Aldersey;
Sandys; Doubdan; Cheron; Thevenot; Gonzales; Morison; Maundrell; Pococke;
Road from Jaffa to Jerusalem; Plain of Sharon; Rama or Ramla; Condition
of the Peasantry; Vale of Jeremiah; Jerusalem; Remark of Chateaubriand;
Impressions of different Travellers; Dr. Clarke; Tasso; Volney; Henniker;
Mosque of Omar described; Mysterious Stone; Church of Holy Sepulchre;
Ceremonies of Good Friday; Easter; The Sacred Fire; Grounds for Skepticism;
Folly of the Priests; Emotion upon entering the Holy Tomb; Description of
Chateaubriand; Holy Places in the City; On Mount Zion; Pool of Siloam;
Fountain of the Virgin; Valley of Jehoshaphat; Mount of Offence; The Tombs
of Zechariah, of Jehoshaphat, and of Absalom; Jewish Architecture; Dr.
Clarke's Opinion on the Topography of Ancient Jerusalem; Opposed by other
Writers; The Inexpediency of such Discussions.
Having described, as fully as the plan of our undertaking will admit, the
constitution, history, learning, and religion of the ancient Hebrews, we
now proceed to give an account of the present condition of the country
which they inhabited nearly 1500 years, interrupted only by short
intervals of captivity or oppression. The connexion which Christianity
acknowledges with the people and soil of Judea has, from the earliest
times, given a deep interest to travels in the Holy Land. The curiosity
natural to man in respect to things which have obtained celebrity, joined
to the conviction, hardly leas natural, that there is a certain merit in
enduring privation and fatigue for the sake of religion, has in every age
induced pilgrims to visit the scenes where our Divine Faith was originally
established, and to communicate to their contemporaries the result of
their investigations. It is to be regretted, indeed, that some of them
from ignorance, and others from a feeling of the weakest bigotry, have
omitted to notice those very objects which are esteemed the most
interesting to the general reader; thinking it their duty, as one of them
expresses it, to "quench all spirit of vain curiosity, lest they should
return without any benefit to their souls."
About the year 705, Jerusalem and its holy places were visited by
Arculfus, from whose report Adamnan composed a narrative, which was
received with considerable approbation. He describes the Temple on Mount
Calvary with some minuteness, mentioning its twelve pillars and eight
gates. But his attention was more particularly attracted by relics, those
objects which all Jerusalem flocked to handle and to kiss with the
greatest reverence. He saw the cup used at the last supper,--the sponge on
which the vinegar was poured,--the lance which pierced the side of our
Lord,--the cloth in which he was wrapped,--also another cloth woven by the
Virgin Mary, whereon were represented the figures of the Saviour and of
the Twelve Apostles.
Eighty years later, Willibald, a Saxon, undertook the same journey,
influenced by similar motives. From his infancy he had been distinguished
by a sage and pious disposition; and, on emerging from boyhood, he was
seized with an anxious desire to "try the unknown ways of
peregrination--to pass over the huge wastes of ocean to the ends of the
earth." To this erratic propensity he owed all the fame which a place in
the Romish calendar and the authorship of an indifferent book can confer.
In Jerusalem he saw all that Arculfus saw, and nothing more; but he had
previously visited the Tomb of the Seven Sleepers, and the cave in which
St. John wrote the Apocalypse.
Bernard proceeded to Palestine in the year 878. He travelled first in
Egypt, and from thence made his way across the Desert, the heat of which
called vividly to his imagination the sloping hills of Campania when
covered with snow. At Alexandria he was subjected to tribute by the
avaricious governor, who paid no regard to the written orders of the
sultan. The treatment which he received at Cairo was still more
distressing. He was thrown into prison, and in this extremity he asked
counsel of God; whereupon it was miraculously revealed to him, that
thirteen denari, such as he had presented to the other Mussulman, would
produce here an equally favourable result. The celestial origin of this
advice was proved by its complete success. The pilgrim was not only
liberated, but obtained letters from the propitiated ruler which saved him
from all farther exaction.
The Crusades threw open the holy places to the eyes of all Europe; and
accordingly, so long as a Christian king swayed the sceptre in the capital
of Judea, the merit of individual pilgrimage was greatly diminished. But
no sooner had the warlike Saracens recovered possession of Jerusalem than
the wonted difficulty and danger returned; and, as might be expected, the
interest attached to the sacred buildings, which the "infidel dogs" were
no longer worthy to behold, revived in greater vigour than formerly. In
1331, William de Bouldesell adventured on an expedition into Arabia and
Palestine, of which some account has been published. In the monastery of
St. Catharine, at the base of Mount Sinai, he was hospitably received by
the monks, who showed him the bones of their patron reposing in a tomb,
which, however, they appear not to have treated with much respect. By
means of hard beating, we are told, they brought out from these remains of
mortality a small portion of blood, which they presented to the pilgrim as
a gift of singular value. A circumstance which particularly astonished him
would probably have produced no surprise in a less believing mind; the
blood, it seems, "had not the appearance of real blood, but rather of some
thick oily substance;" nevertheless, the miracle was regarded by him as
one of the greatest that had ever been witnessed in this world.
A hundred years afterward Bertrandon de la Broquiere sailed from Venice to
Jaffa, where, according to the statistics of contrite pilgrims, the
"pardons of the Holy Land begin." At Jerusalem he found the Christians
reduced to a state of the most cruel thraldom. Such of them as engaged in
trade were locked up in their shops every night by the Saracens, who
opened the doors in the morning at such an hour as seemed to them most
proper or convenient. At Damascus they were treated with equal severity.
The first two persons whom he met in this city knocked him down,--an
injury which he dared not resent for fear of immediately losing his life.
About thirty years before the period of his visit, the destroying arms of
Timur had laid a large portion of the Syrian capital in ruins, though the
population had again increased to nearly one hundred thousand. During his
stay he witnessed the arrival of a caravan consisting of more than three
thousand camels. Its entry employed two days and two nights; the Koran
wrapped in silk being carried in front on the back of a camel richly
adorned with the same costly material. This part of the procession was
surrounded by a number of persons brandishing naked swords, and playing on
all sorts of musical instruments. The governor, with all the inhabitants,
went out to meet the holy cavalcade, and to do homage to the sacred
ensign, which at once proclaimed their faith, and announced the object of
the pious mission thus successfully concluded. Broquiere found the
greatest respect paid to every one who had performed the pilgrimage to
Mecca, and was gravely assured by an eminent Moulah, that no such person
could ever incur the hazard of everlasting damnation.
We merely mention the names of Breidenbach of Mentz, and of Martin
Baumgarten, who in the beginning of the sixteenth century achieved a
journey into the Holy Land. The latter of these, while passing through
Egypt, was most barbarously treated by the Saracen boys, who pelted him
with dirt, brickbats, stones, and rotten fruit. At Hebron he was shown the
field "were it is said, or at least guessed, that Adam was made;" but the
reddish earth of which it is composed is now used in the manufacture of
prayer-beads.
The work of Bartholemeo Georgewitz, who travelled in the same century,
gives a melancholy account of the miseries endured by such Christians as
were carried into slavery by the Turks in those evil days. The armies of
that nation were followed by slave-dealers supplied with chains, by means
of which fifty or sixty were bound in a row together, leaving only two
feet between to enable them to walk. The hands were manacled during the
day, and at night the feet also. The sufferings inflicted upon men of
rank, and those belonging to the learned professions, were almost beyond
description; extending not only to the lowest labours of the field, but
even to the work of oxen, being sometimes yoked like these animals in the
plough. Owing to the great rivers and arms of the sea, it was extremely
difficult for those who were sent into Asia to effect their escape;
whence, in many cases, the horrors of captivity had no other limits than
those of the natural life. No wonder that Bartholemeo recommends to every
one visiting those parts to make his will, "like one going not to the
earthly, but to the heavenly Jerusalem."
Laurence Aldersey, who set out from London in 1581, was the first
Protestant who encountered the perils of a voyage to Syria. In the Levant
a Turkish galley hove in sight, and caused great alarm. The master, "being
a wise fellow, began to devise how to escape the danger; but, while both
he and all of us were in our dumps, God sent us a merrie gale of wind." As
they approached Candia a violent storm came on, and the mariners began to
reproach the Englishman as the cause, "and saide I was no good Christian,
and wished I were in the middest of the sea, saying that they and the
shippe were the worse for me." He replied, "I think myself the worst
creature in the worlde, and do you consider yourselves also." These
remonstrances were followed by a long sermon, the tenor of which was,
"that they were not all good Christians, else it were not possible for
them to have such weather." A gentleman on board informed Aldersey, that
the suspicions respecting him originated in his refusal to join in the
prayers to the Virgin Mary,--a charge which he parried by remarking that
"they who praied to so many goe a wrong way to worke." The friars,
resolving to bring the matter to an issue, sent round the image of Our
Lady to kiss. On its approach the good Protestant endeavoured to avoid it
by going another way; but the bearer "fetched his course about," and
presented it. The proffered salutation being then positively rejected, the
affair might have become serious, had not two of the more respectable
monks interceded in his behalf, and enforced a more charitable procedure.
Of the people of Cyprus he remarks, that they "be very rude, and like
beasts, and no better: they eat their meat sitting upon the ground, with
their legs acrosse like tailors." On the 8th of August they arrived at
Joppa, but did not till the next day receive permission to land from the
great pasha, "who sate upon a hill to see us sent away." Aldersey had
mounted before the rest, which greatly displeased his highness, who sent a
servant to pull him from the saddle and beat him; "whereupon I made a long
legge, saying, Grand mercye, seignor." This timely submission seems to
have secured forgiveness; and accordingly, "being horsed upon little
asses," they commenced their journey towards Jerusalem. Rama he describes
as so "ruinated, that he took it to be rather a heape of stones than a
towne;" finding no house to receive them but such a one as they were
compelled to enter by creeping on their knees. The party were exposed to
the usual violence and extortion of the Arabs; "they that should have
rescued us stood still, and durst doe nothing, which was to our cost." On
reaching the holy city they knelt down and gave thanks; after which they
were obliged to enter the gate on foot, no Christian at that period being
allowed to appear within the walls mounted. The superior of the convent
received the pilgrims courteously into his humble establishment, where
Aldersey tells us, "they were dieted of free cost, and fared reasonable
well."[70]
The beginning of the seventeenth century witnessed a higher order of
travellers, who, from such a mixture of motives as might actuate either a
pilgrim or an antiquary, undertook the perilous tour of the Holy Land.
Among these, one of the most distinguished was George Sandys, who
commenced his peregrinations in the year 1610. He was succeeded by
Doubdan, Cheron, Thevenot, Gonzales, Morison, Maundrell, and Pococke, all
of whom have contributed many valuable materials towards a complete
knowledge of the localities, government, and actual condition of modern
Palestine. In our own days the number of works on these important subjects
has increased greatly, presenting to the historian of the Turkish
provinces in Asia a nearer and more minute view of society than could be
obtained by the earlier travellers, who, instead of yielding to the
characteristic bigotry of Moslem, usually opposed to it a prejudice not
less determined and uncharitable. We must not hazard a catalogue of the
enterprising authors to whom the European public are indebted for the
information: now enjoyed by every class of readers, in regard to the most
interesting of all ancient kingdoms,--the country inhabited by Israel and
Judah. In the description which we are about to give of the principal
towns, the buildings, the antiquities, the manners, the opinions, and the
religious forms which meet the observation of the intelligent tourist in
the Land of Canaan, we shall select the most striking facts from writers
of all nations and sects, making no distinction but such as shall be
dictated by a respect for the learning, the candour, and the opportunities
which are recorded in their several volumes.
Palestine is usually approached, either from the sea at the port of Jaffa
(the ancient Joppa), or from Egypt, by way of the intervening desert. In
both cases, the principal object is to obtain a safe and easy route to the
capital, which, even at the present hour, cannot be reached without much
danger, unless under the special protection of the native authorities. The
power of Mohammed Ali, it is true, extends almost to the very walls of
Gaza; and wherever his government is acknowledged no violence can be
committed with impunity on European travellers. But the Syrian pashas,
equally deficient in inclination and vigour, still permit the grossest
extortion, and sometimes connive at the most savage atrocities. Besides,
there is a class of lawless Arabs who scour the borders of the wilderness,
holding at defiance all the restrictions which a civilized people impose
or respect. Sir Frederick Henniker, who followed the unwonted track which
leads from Mount Sinai to the southern shore of the Dead Sea, narrowly
escaped with his life, after having been severely wounded and repeatedly
robbed by one of the most savage hordes of Bedouins.
The history of the crusades will draw our attention to Jaffa more minutely
than would be suitable at the present stage of our narrative; we shall
therefore proceed on the usual route to Jerusalem, collecting as we go
along such notices as may prove interesting to the reader. At a short
distance from this celebrated port the pilgrim enters the plain of Sharon,
celebrated in Scripture for its beautiful roses. The monk Neret informs
us, that in his time it was covered with tulips, the variety of whose
colours formed a lovely parterre. At present, the eye of the traveller is
delighted with a profusion of roses white and red, the narcissus, the
white and orange lily, the carnation, and a highly-fragrant species of
everlasting-flower. This plain stretches along the coast from Gaza in the
south to Mount Carmel on the north, being bounded towards the east by the
hills of Judea and Samaria. The whole of it is not upon the same level; it
consists of four platforms separated from each other by a wall of naked
stones. The soil is composed of a very fine sand, which, though mixed with
ravel, appears extremely fertile; but owing to the desolating spirit of
Mohammedan despotism, nothing is seen in some of the richest fields except
thistles and withered grass. Here and there, indeed, are scanty
plantations of cotton, with a few patches of doura, barley, and wheat. The
villages, which are commonly surrounded with olive-trees and sycamores,
are for the most part in ruins; exhibiting a melancholy proof that under a
bad government even the bounty of Heaven ceases to be a blessing.
The path by which the billy barrier is penetrated is difficult, and in
some places dangerous. But before you reach it, turning towards the east,
you perceive Rama, or Ramla, the ancient Arimathea, distinguished by its
charming situation, and well known as the residence of a Christian
community. The convent, it is true, had been plundered five years before
it was visited by Chateaubriand; and it was not without the most urgent
solicitation that the friars were permitted to repair their building, as
if it were a maxim among the Turks, who by their domination continue to
afflict and disgrace the finest parts of Palestine, that the progress of
ruin and decay should never be arrested. Volney tells us, that when he was
at Ramla a commander resided there in a serai, the walls and floors of
which were on the point of tumbling down. He asked one of the inferior
officers why his master did not at least pay some attention to his own
apartment. The reply was, "If another shall obtain his place next year,
who will repay the expense?"
In those days the aga maintained about one hundred horsemen and as many
African soldiers, who were lodged in an old Christian church, the nave of
which was converted into a stable, as also in an ancient khan, which was
disputed with them by the scorpions. The adjacent country is planted with
lofty olives, the greatest part of which are as large as the walnut-trees
of France, though they are daily perishing through age and the ravages of
contending factions. When a peasant is disposed to take revenge on his
enemy, he goes by night and outs his trees close to the ground, when the
wound, which he carefully covers from the sight, drains off the sap like
an issue. Amid these plantations are seen at every step dry wells,
cisterns fallen in, and immense vaulted reservoirs, which prove that in
ancient times this town must have been upwards of four miles in
circumference. At present it does not contain more than a hundred
miserable families. The houses are only so many huts, sometimes detached,
and sometimes ranged in the form of cells round a court, enclosed by a mud
wall. In winter, the inhabitants and their cattle may be said to live
together; the part of the building allotted to themselves being raised
only two feet above that in which they lodge their beasts. The peasants
are by this means kept warm without burning wood,--a species of economy
indispensable in a country absolutely destitute of fuel. As to the fire
necessary for culinary purposes, they make it, as was the practice in the
days of Ezekiel the prophet, of dung kneaded into cakes, which they dry in
the sun, exposing them to its rays on the walls of their huts. In summer,
their lodging is more airy; but all their furniture consists of a single
mat and a pitcher for carrying water. The immediate neighborhood of the
village is sown at the proper season with grain and watermelons; all the
rest is a desert, and abandoned to the Bedouin Arabs, who feed their
flocks on it. There are frequent remains of towers, dungeons, and even of
castles with ramparts and ditches, in some of which are a few Barbary
soldiers with nothing but a shirt and a musket. These ruins, however, are
more commonly inhabited by owls, jackals, and scorpions.[71]
The only remarkable antiquity at Ramla is the minaret of a decayed mosque,
which, by an Arabic inscription, appears to have been built by the Sultan
of Egypt. From the summit, which is very lofty, the eye follows the whole
chain of mountains, beginning at Nablous, and skirting the extremity of
the plain till it loses itself in the south.
A ride of two hours brings the traveller to the verge of the mountains,
where the road opens through a rugged ravine, and is formed in the dry
channel of a torrent. A scene of marked solitude and desolation surrounds
his steps as he pursues his journey in what is so simply described in the
gospel as the "hill country of Judea." He finds himself amid a labyrinth
of mountains, of a conical figure, all nearly alike, and connected with
each other at their base. A naked rock presents strata or beds resembling
the seats of a Roman amphitheatre, or the walls which support the
vineyards in the valleys of Savoy. Every recess is filled with dwarf oaks,
box, and rose-laurels. From the bottom of the ravines olive-trees rear
their heads, sometimes forming continuous woods on the sides of the hills.
On reaching the most elevated summit of this chain, he looks down towards
the south-west on the beautiful valley of Sharon, bounded by the Great
Sea; before him opens the Vale of St. Jeremiah; and in the same direction,
on the top of a rock, appears in the distance an ancient fortress called
the Castle of the Maccabees. It is conjectured that the author of the
Lamentations came into the world in the village which has retained his
name amid these mountains; so much is certain, at least, that the
melancholy of this desolate scene appears to pervade the compositions of
the prophet of sorrows.
The unvarying manners of the East exhibit to the view of the stranger, at
the present day, the same picture of rural innocence and simplicity which
might have met the eye of the mother of the Redeemer when she came into
this pastoral country to salute her cousin Elizabeth. Herds of goats, with
pendent ears, sheep with large tails, and asses which remind you, by their
beauty, of the onagra of Scripture, issue from the villages at the dawn of
day. Arab women are seen bringing grapes to dry in the vineyards; others
with their faces veiled, carrying pitchers of water on their heads, like
the daughters of Midian.
From the Valley of Jeremiah the traveller towards Zion descends into that
which bears the name of Turpentine, and is deeper and narrower than the
other. Here are observed some vineyards, and a few patches of doura. He
next arrives at the brook where the youthful David picked up the five
smooth stones, with one of which he slew the gigantic Goliath. Having
crossed the stream, he perceives the village of Heriet-Lefta on the bank
of another dry channel, which resembles a dusty road. El Bir_ appears in
the distance on the summit of a lofty hill on the way to Nablous, the
Shechem of the Israelites and the Neapolis of the Herods. He now pursues
his course through a desert, where wild fig-trees thinly scattered wave
their embrowned leaves in the southern breeze. The ground, which had
hitherto exhibited some verdure, becomes altogether bare; the sides of the
mountains, expanding themselves, assume at once an appearance of greater
grandeur and sterility. Presently all vegetation ceases; even the very
mosses disappear. The confused amphitheatre of the mountains is tinged
with a red and vivid colour. In this dreary region he keeps ascending a
whole hour to gain an elevated hill which he sees before him; after which
he proceeds during an equal space across a naked plain strewed with loose
stones. All at once, at the extremity of this plain, he perceives a line
of Gothic walls flanked with square towers, and the tops of a few
buildings peeping above them;--he beholds Jerusalem, once the joy of the
whole earth!
"I can now account," says M. Chateaubriand, "for the surprise expressed by
the crusaders and pilgrims at the first sight of Jerusalem, according to
the reports of historians and travellers. I can affirm that whoever has,
like me, had the patience to read nearly two hundred modern accounts of
the Holy Land; the Rabbinical compilations, and the passages in the
ancient writers respecting Judea, still knows nothing at all about it. I
paused with my eyes fixed on Jerusalem, measuring the height of its walls,
reviewing at once all the recollections of history from the patriarch
Abraham to Godfrey of Bouillon, reflecting on the total change
accomplished to the world by the mission of the Son of Man, and in vain
seeking that Temple, not one stone of which is left upon another. Were I
to live a thousand years, never should I forget that desert, which yet
seems to be pervaded by the greatness of Jehovah and the terrors of
death."[72]
On this occasion a camp of Turkish horse, with all the accompaniments of
oriental pomp, was pitched under the walls. The tents in general were
covered with black lambskins, while those belonging to persons of
distinction were formed of striped cloth. The horses, saddled and bridled,
were fastened to stakes. There were four pieces of horse-artillery, well
mounted on carriages, which appeared to be of English manufacture. These
fierce soldiers are stationed near the capital, as well for the purpose of
checking the savage Bedouins, who acknowledge no master, as for enforcing
the tribute demanded from all strangers who enter the holy city. The
recollections of the Mussulman, no less than those of the Christian,
inspire a reverential feeling for the town in which David dwelt; and
hence, although the European pilgrim be oppressed by the present laws of
Palestine, his motives are usually respected, and even praised.
The reader who has perused with attention some of the more recent works on
Palestine must have been struck with the diversity, and even the apparent
contradiction, which prevail in their descriptions of Jerusalem. According
to one, the magnificence of its buildings rivals the most splendid
edifices of modern times, while another could perceive nothing but filth
and ruins, surmounted by a gaudy mosque and a few glittering minarets. The
greater number, it must be acknowledged, have drawn from their own
imagination the tints in which they have been pleased to exhibit the
metropolis of Judea; trusting more to the impressions conveyed by the
brilliant delineations of poetry, than to a minute inspection of what they
might have seen with their own eyes.
Dr. Clarke, for example, has allowed his pen to be guided by the ardent
muse of Tasso, rather than by the cool observation of an unbiassed
traveller. "No sensation of fatigue or heat," says he, "could
counterbalance the eagerness and zeal which animated all our party in the
approach to Jerusalem; every individual pressed forward, hoping first to
announce the joyful intelligence of its appearance. We passed some
insignificant ruins, either of ancient buildings or of modern villages;
but had they been of more importance they would have excited little notice
at the time, so earnestly bent was every mind towards the main object of
interest and curiosity. At length, after about two hours had been passed
in this state of anxiety and suspense, ascending a hill towards the
south--Hagiopolis! exclaimed a Greek in the van of our cavalcade; and,
instantly throwing himself from his horse, was seen upon his knees,
bare-headed, facing the prospect he surveyed. Suddenly the sight burst
upon us all. The effect produced was that of total silence throughout the
whole company. Many of our party, by an immediate impulse, took off their
hats as if entering a church, without being sensible of so doing. The
Greeks and Catholics shed torrents of tears; and, presently beginning to
cross themselves with unfeigned devotion, asked if they might be permitted
to take off the covering from their feet, and proceed, barefooted to the
Holy Sepulchre. We had not been prepared for the grandeur of the spectacle
which the city alone exhibited. Instead of a wretched and ruined town, by
some described as the desolated remnant of Jerusalem, we beheld, as it
were, a flourishing and stately metropolis, presenting a magnificent
assemblage of domes, towers, palaces, churches, and monasteries; all of
which, glittering in the sun's rays, shone with inconceivable splendour.
As we drew nearer, our whole attention was engrossed by its noble and
interesting appearance."[73]
The effect produced upon the Christian army when they obtained the first
view of the holy city is beautifully described by the Italian poet,
thereby supplying, it may be suspected, the model which has been so
faithfully copied by the English tourist. We avail ourselves of the
translation of Hoole.
"Now from the golden East the zephyrs borne,
Proclaimed with balmy gales the approach of morn;
And fair Aurora decked her radiant head
With roses cropp'd from Eden's flowery bed;
When from the sounding camp was heard afar
The noise of troops preparing for the war:
To this succeed the trumpet's loud alarms,
And rouse, with shriller notes, the host to arms.
"With holy zeal their swelling hearts abound,
And their wing'd footsteps scarcely print the ground.
When now the sun ascends the ethereal way,
And strikes the dusty field with warmer ray;
Behold, Jerusalem in prospect lies!
Behold, Jerusalem salutes their eyes!
At once a thousand tongues repeat the name,
And hail Jerusalem with loud acclaim!
"At first, transported with the pleasing sight,
Each Christian bosom glowed with full delight;
But deep contrition soon their joy suppressed,
And holy sorrow saddened every breast;
Scarce dare their eyes the city walls survey,
Where clothed in flesh their dear Redeemer lay,
Whose sacred earth did once their Lord enclose,
And when triumphant from the grave he rose!
"Each faltering tongue imperfect speech supplies;
Each labouring bosom heaves with frequent sighs.
Each took the example as their chieftains led,
With naked feet the hallowed soil they tread.
Each throws his martial ornaments aside,
The crested helmets with their plumy pride;
To humble thoughts their lofty hearts they bend,
And down their cheeks the pious tears descend."[74]
No city assuredly presents a more striking example of the vicissitude of
human affairs than the capital of the Jews. When we behold its walls
levelled, its ditches filled up, and all its buildings embarrassed with
ruins, we scarcely can believe we view that celebrated metropolis which
formerly withstood the efforts of the most powerful empires, and for a
time resisted the arms of Rome itself; though, by a whimsical change of
fortune, its mouldering edifices now receive her homage and reverence. "In
a word," says Volney, "we with difficulty recognize Jerusalem." Still more
are we astonished at its ancient greatness, when we consider its
situation, amid a rugged soil, destitute of water, and surrounded by the
dry channels of torrents and steep hills. Remote from every great road, it
seems not to have been calculated either for a considerable mart of
commerce, or for the centre of a great consumption. It overcame, however,
every obstacle, and may be adduced as a proof of what patriotism and
religion may effect in the hands of a good government, or when favoured by
happy circumstances from without. The same principles, in some degree
modified, still preserve to this city its feeble existence. The renown of
its miracles, perpetuated in the East, invites and retains a considerable
number of inhabitants within its walls.[75]
As a contrast to the description of Dr. Clarke, the reader may not be
displeased to peruse the notes of Sir Frederick Henniker on the same
subject:--"Jerusalem is called, even by the Mohammedans, the Blessed
City,--the streets of it are narrow and deserted,--the houses dirty and
ragged,--the shops few and forsaken,--and throughout the whole there is
not one symptom of either commerce, comfort, or happiness. Is this the
city that men call the Perfection of Beauty, the Joy of the whole
Earth?--The town, which appears to me not worth possession, even without
the trouble of conquest, is walled entirely round, is about a mile in
length and half a mile in width, so that its circumference may be
estimated at three miles. In three quarters of an hour I performed the
circuit. It would be difficult to conceive how it could ever have been
larger than it now is; for, independent of the ravines, the four outsides
of the city are marked by the brook of Siloam, by a burial-plate at either
end, and by the Hill of Calvary; and the Hill of Calvary is now within the
town, so that it was formerly smaller than it is at present. The best view
of it is from the Mount of Olives; it commands the exact shape, and nearly
every particular, namely, the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, the Armenian
Convent, the Mosque of Omar, St. Stephen's Gate, the round-topped houses,
and the barren vacancies of the city. The Mosque of Omar is the St.
Peter's of Turkey. The building itself has a light, pagoda appearance; the
garden in which it stands occupies a considerable part of the city, and
contrasted with the surrounding desert is beautiful; but it is forbidden
ground, and Jew or Christian entering within its precincts must, if
discovered, forfeit either his religion or his life."[76]
The observation made by Sir Frederick, in regard to the difficulty and
danger of entering the Mosque of Omar, has been verified on more than one
occasion. But the obstacles, apparently insurmountable, were overcome by
Dr. Richardson, who, in return for the successful exercise of his
professional skill, was rewarded by a clandestine visit to the shrine of
the Mussulman saint. It will appear, from the few details which we are
about to select from his volume, that the veil of mystery does not conceal
anything really worth seeing. Like Pompey in the Temple, the Christian
visiter, whose presence, in like manner, profanes the holy place, feels no
other surprise than is occasioned by the fact, that men have agreed to
excite curiosity by prohibiting an imaginary gratification.
"On our arrival at the door, a gentle knock brought up the sacristan, who,
apprized of our intention, was within waiting to receive us. He demanded,
rather sternly, who we were, and was answered by my black conductor in
tones no less consequential than his own. The door immediately edged up,
to prevent as much as possible the light from shining out, and we squeezed
ourselves in with a gentle and noiseless step, although there was no
person near who could be alarmed by the loudest sound of our bare feet
upon the marble floor. The door was no sooner shut than the sacristan,
taking a couple of candles in his hand, showed us all over the interior of
the building, pointing, in the pride of his heart, to the elegant marble
walls, the beautifully-gilded ceiling, the well where the true worshippers
drink and wash,--with which we also blessed our palates and moistened our
beards,--the paltry reading-desk with the ancient Koran, the handsome
columns, and the green stone with the wonderful nails. As soon as we had
completed this circuit, pulling a key from his girdle, he unlocked the
door of the railing that separates the outer from the inner part of the
mosque, which, with an elevation of two or three steps, let us into the
sacred recess. Here he pointed out the patches of mosaic in the floor, the
round flat stone which the Prophet carried on his arm in battle, directed
us to introduce our hand through the hole in the wooden box, to feel the
print of the Prophet's foot, and, through the posts of the wooden rail, to
feel as well as to see the marks of the angel Gabriel's fingers (into
which I carefully put my own) in the sacred stone that occupies the centre
of the mosque, and from which it derives the name of Sakhara or Locked-up,
and over which is suspended a fine cloth of green and red satin. It was so
covered with dust that, but for the information of my guide, I should not
have been able to tell the composing colours. Finally, he pointed to the
door that leads into the small cavern below, of which he had not the key.
"I looked up to the interior of the dome; but, there being few lamps
burning, the light was not sufficient to show me any of its beauty farther
than a general glance. The columns and curiosities were counted over again
and again, the arches were specially examined and enumerated, to be sure
that I had not missed nor forgotten any of them. Writing would have been
an ungracious behaviour, calculated to excite a thousand suspicions, that
next day would have gone to swell the current of the city gossip, to the
prejudice both of myself and of my friend. Having examined the adytum, we
once more touched the footstep of the Prophet and the finger-prints of the
angel Gabriel, and descended the steps, over which the door was
immediately secured."[77]
Dr. Richardson was afterward permitted to visit this splendid mosque
during the day, when he found that the dimensions of the enclosure in
which it stands is about fifteen hundred feet in length, and a thousand in
breadth. In the sacred retirement of this charming spot, the followers of
the Prophet delight to saunter, or repose, as in the elysium of their
devotions; and, arrayed in the gorgeous costume of the East, add much to
the interest, the beauty, and solemn stillness of the scene, from which
they seem loath to retire. The Sakhara itself is a regular octagon of
about sixty feet a side, and is entered by four spacious doors, each of
which is adorned with a porch projecting from the line of the building and
rising considerably on the wall. All the sides of it are paneled. The
centre stone of one panel is square, of another it is octagonal, and thus
they alternate all round; the sides of each running down the angles like a
plain pilaster, and giving an appearance as if the whole were set in a
frame. The marble is white, with a considerable tinge of blue; square
pieces of the latter colour being introduced in different places, so as to
confer upon the exterior a very pleasing effect. The upper story is faced
with small tiles painted of different colours, white, yellow, green, and
blue; some of them are also covered with sentences from the Koran. At this
height there are seven elegant windows on each side, except where the
porches interfere, and then there are only six; the general appearance of
the edifice being extremely light and beautiful, more especially from the
mixture of the soft colours above and the delicate tints of the marble in
the main body of the structure.
The interior fully corresponds to the magnificence and beauty just
described. There are twenty-four marble columns, placed parallel to the
eight sides of the building, three opposite to each side, so as still to
preserve the octagonal form. Eight of them are large plain pillars
belonging to no particular order of architecture, and all standing
opposite to the eight entering angles of the edifice, and deeply indented
on the inner side; so that they furnish an acute termination to the
octagonal lines within. Between every two of the square columns there are
two of a round figure, well proportioned, and resting on a base. They are
from eighteen to twenty feet high, with a sort of Corinthian capital. A
large square plinth of marble extends from the top of the one column to
the other, and above it there is constructed a number of arches all round,
which support the inner end of the roof or ceiling, the outer end resting
upon the walls of the building. This is composed of wood, or plaster,
highly ornamented with a species of carving, and richly gilt.
But this gorgeous temple owes both its name and existence to a large
irregular mass of stone, having an oblong shape, which still occupies the
centre of the mosque. It is a portion of the calcareous rock on which the
city is built, and which prevails in the other mountains in the
neighbourhood of Jerusalem, having very much the appearance of being a
part of the bed that might have been left when the foundation of the
building was levelled. It rises highest towards the south-west corner, and
falls abruptly at the end, where are the prints of the Prophet's foot. It
is irregular on the upper surface, the same as when it was broken from the
quarry. It is enclosed all round with a wooden rail about four feet high,
and which in every place is nearly in contact with the stone. We have
already mentioned that there is a cover or canopy of variously-coloured
silk suspended over it; and nothing, we are assured can be held in higher
veneration than the Hadjr-el-sakhara, the Locked-up Stone.[78]
But this fragment of limestone has more weighty pretensions to the
veneration of the Moslem than the mere print of the angel Gabriel's
fingers or of the Prophet's foot; for, like the Palladium of ancient Troy,
it is said to have fallen from heaven on this very spot, at the time when
prophecy commenced in Jerusalem. It was employed as a seat by the
venerable men to whom that gift was communicated; and, as long as the
spirit of vaticination continued to enlighten their minds, the slab
remained steady for their accommodation. But no sooner was the power of
prophecy withdrawn, and the persecuted seers compelled to flee for safety
to other lands, than the stone is declared to have manifested the
profoundest sympathy in their fate, and even to have resolved to accompany
them in their flight. On this occasion Gabriel the archangel interposed
his authority, and prevented the departure of the prophetical chair. He
grasped it with his mighty hand, and nailed it to its rocky bed till the
arrival of Mohammed, who, horsed on the lightning's wing, flew thither
from Mecca, joined the society of seventy thousand ministering spirits,
and, having offered up his devotions to the throne of God, fixed the stone
immovably in this holy site, around which the Caliph Omar erected his
magnificent mosque.
Within the same enclosure there is another house of prayer called El Aksa,
which, though a fine building, is greatly inferior to El Sakhara. Between
the two there is a beautiful fountain, which takes its name from a clump
of orange-trees overshadowing its water. The mosque is composed of seven
naves supported by pillars and columns, and at the head of the centre nave
is a fine cupola. Two others branch off at right angles to the principal
body of the edifice. Before it is a portico of seven arches in front and
one in depth, supported by square pillars. Ali Bey, who in his character
of Mussulman was permitted to examine the holy fane at leisure, describes
the great central nave of the Aksa as about 162 feet long and 32 broad. It
is supported on each side by seven arches lightly pointed, resting upon
cylindrical pillars, in the form of columns, but without any architectural
proportion, with foliaged capitals which do not belong to any order. The
fourth pillar to the right of the entrance is octangular, and enormously
thick. It is called the pillar of Sidi Omar. The walls rise 13 feet above
the tops of the arches, and contain two rows of twenty-one windows each.
The roof is of timber, without being vaulted. The cupola is supported by
four large arches resting upon four square pillars. It is spherical, with
two rows of windows, and is ornamented with arabesque paintings and
gilding of exquisite beauty. Its diameter is equal to that of the central
nave.
M. Burckhardt describes the Holy House in Jerusalem as a union of several
buildings erected at different periods of Islamism, bearing upon them
demonstrative proofs of the prevailing taste of the various ages in which
they were successively constructed. It is not precisely one mosque, but a
group of mosques. Its name in Arabic, El Haram, strictly signifies a
temple or place consecrated by the peculiar presence of the Divinity. The
profane and the infidel are forbidden to enter it. The Mussulman religion
acknowledges but two temples, those, namely, of Mecca and of Jerusalem;
both are called El Haram; both are equally prohibited by law to
Christians, Jews, and every other person who is not a believer in the
Prophet. The mosques, on the other hand, are considered merely as places
of meeting for certain acts of worship, and are not held so especially
consecrated as to demand the total exclusion of all who do not profess the
true faith. Entrance into them is not denied to the unbeliever by any
statute of the Mohammedan law; and hence it is not uncommon for Christians
at Constantinople to receive from the government a written order to visit
even the Mosque of St. Sophia. But the sultan himself could not grant
permission to an infidel either to pass into the territory of Mecca, or to
enter the Temple of Jerusalem. A firman granting such privileges would be
regarded as a most horrid sacrilege: it would not be respected by the
people; and the favoured object would inevitably become the victim of his
own imprudent boldness.[79]
In the interior of the rock whereon the Sakhara stands there is a cave,
into which Dr. Richardson could not obtain admittance. He was four times
in the mosque, and went twice thither under the express assurance that its
doors should be thrown open to him. But when he arrived the key was always
wanting, and when the keeper of it was sought he could never be found. Ali
Bey, who encountered no obstacle, reveals all the mystery of this
subterranean mansion. It is a room forming an irregular square of about
eighteen feet surface, and eight feet high in the middle. The roof is that
of a natural vault, quite irregular. In descending the staircase, there is
upon the right-hand, near the bottom, a little tablet of marble, bearing
the name of El Makam Souleman, the Place of Solomon. A similar one upon
the left is named El Makam Daoud, the Place of David. A cavity or niche on
the south-west side of the rock is called El Makam Ibrahim, the Place of
Abraham. A similar concave step at the north-west angle is described as El
Makam Djibrila, the Place of Gabriel; and a sort of stone table at the
north-east angle is denominated El Makam el Hoder, the Place of Elias. In
the roof of the apartment, exactly in the middle, there is an aperture
almost cylindrical through the whole thickness of the rock, about three
feet in diameter. This is the Place of the Prophet.
M. Burckhardt observed a copy of the Koran, the leaves of which were four
feet long, and more than two feet and a half broad. Tradition reports that
it belonged to the Caliph Omar; but he saw a similar one in the grand
mosque at Cairo, and another at Mecca, to both of which the same origin is
assigned. The drawings supplied by this enterprising traveller give a very
distinct notion of the extent and magnificence of the great Mussulman
temple,--the most prominent object in the modern Jerusalem, and occupying
the site of the still more interesting edifice erected by Solomon in the
proudest period of Jewish history.
But the Christian pilgrim, who walks about the holy city "to tell her
towers and mark her bulwarks," is more readily attracted by less splendid
objects, the memorials of his own more humble faith. Among these the most
remarkable is the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, which is built on the
lower part of the sloping hill distinguished by the name of Acre, near the
place where it is joined to Mount Moriah. The Turkish government, aware of
the veneration which all Christians entertain for relics in any way
connected with the sufferings of the great Author of their religion, have
converted this feeling into a source of revenue; every person not subject
to the Sublime Porte, who visits the shrine of Jesus Christ, being
compelled to pay a certain sum of money for admittance. But the church,
nevertheless, is opened only on particular days of the week, and cannot be
seen at any other time without an order from the two convents, the Latin
and the Greek, with the sanction of the governor of the city. On such
occasions the pressure at the doors is very great; the zeal of the
pilgrims checked by the insolence of the Turks, who delight to insult and
disappoint their anxiety, leading sometimes to scenes of tumult not quite
in harmony with their pious motives. We shall give an account of the
effect produced by the local and historical associations of the place on a
sober spirit, in the words of a traveller to whom we have been already
indebted:--
"The mind is not withdrawn from the important concerns of this hallowed
spot by any tasteful decorations or dignified display of architecture in
its plan or in its walls; but having cleared the throng, the religion of
the place is allowed to take full possession of the soul, and the visiter
feels as if he were passing into the presence of the great and immaculate
Jehovah, and summoned to give an account of the most silent and secret
thoughts of his heart. Having passed within these sacred walls, the
attention is first directed to a large flat stone in the floor, a little
within the door; it is surrounded by a rail, and several lamps hang
suspended over it. The pilgrims approach it on their knees; touch and kiss
it, and prostrating themselves before it, offer up their prayers in holy
adoration. This is the stone on which the body of our Lord was washed and
anointed and prepared for the tomb. Turning to the left and proceeding a
little forward, we came into a round space immediately under the dome,
surrounded with sixteen large columns which support the gallery above. In
the centre of this space stands the Holy Sepulchre; it is enclosed in an
oblong house, rounded at one end with small arcades or chapels for prayer,
on the outside of it. These are for the Copts, the Abyssinians, the Syrian
Mareonites, and other Christians, who are not, like the Roman Catholics,
the Greeks, and Armenians, provided with large chapels in the body of the
church. At the other end it is squared off and furnished with a platform
in front, which is ascended by a flight of steps, having a small
parapet-wall of marble on each hand, and floored with the same material.
In the middle of this small platform stands a block of polished marble
about a foot and a half square; on this stone sat the angel who announced
the blessed tidings of the resurrection to Mary Magdalene, and Joanna, and
Mary the mother of James. Advancing, and taking off our shoes and turbans
at the desire of the keeper, he drew aside the curtain, and stepping down,
and bending almost to the ground, we entered by a low narrow door into
this mansion of victory, where Christ triumphed over the grave, and
disarmed Death of all his terrors. Here the mind looks on Him who, though
he knew no sin, yet entered the mansions of the dead to redeem us from
death, and the prayers of a grateful heart ascend with a risen Saviour to
the presence of God in heaven."[80]
The tomb exhibited is a sarcophagus of white marble, slightly tinged with
blue, being fully six feet long, three feet broad, and two feet two inches
deep. It is but indifferently polished, and seems as if it had at one time
been exposed to the action of the atmosphere, by which it has been
considerably affected. It is without any ornament, made in the Greek
fashion, and not like the more ancient tombs of the Jews, which we see cut
in the rock for the reception of the dead. There are seven lamps
constantly burning over it, the gifts of different sovereigns in a
succession of ages. It occupies about one-half of the sepulchral chamber,
and extends from one end of it to the other. A space about three feet wide
in front of it is all that remains for the accommodation of visiters, so
that not more than three or four can be conveniently admitted at a time.
Leaving this hallowed spot, the pilgrim is conducted to the place where
our Lord appeared to Mary Magdalene, and next to the Chapel of Apparition,
where he presented himself to the Blessed Virgin. The Greeks have an
oratory opposite to the Holy Sepulchre, in which they have set up a globe,
representing, as they are pleased to imagine, the centre of the earth;
thus transferring from Delphi to Jerusalem the absurd notions of the pagan
priests of antiquity relative to the figure of the habitable world. After
this he enters a dark narrow staircase, which, by about twenty steps,
carries him to Mount Calvary. "This," exclaims Dr. Richardson, "is the
centre, the grand magnet of the Christian church: from this proceed life
and salvation; thither all hearts tend and all eyes are directed; here
kings and queens cast down their crowns, and great men and women part with
their ornaments; at the foot of the cross all are on a level, equally
needy and equally welcome."[81]
On Calvary is shown the spot where the Redeemer was nailed to the cross,
the hole into which the end of it was fixed, and the rent in the rock. All
these are covered with marble, perforated in the proper places, so that
they may be seen and touched. Near at hand a cross is erected on an
elevated part of the ground, and a wooden body stretched upon it in the
attitude of suffering. Descending from the Mount, the traveller enters the
chapel of St. Helens, the mother of Constantine, in which is the vault
where the true cross is said to have been found,--an event that continues
to be celebrated every year on the third of May by an appropriate mass.
The place is large enough to contain about thirty or forty individuals,
and on that annual solemnity it is usually crowded to the door.
The spirit in which these commemorations are sometimes performed is by no
means honourable to the Christian character. An ancient rivalry between
the members of the Greek and those of the Roman communion continues to
imbitter their disputes in regard to their respective privileges and
procedure. Maundrell informs us that in his time each fraternity had their
own altar and sanctuary, at which they had a peculiar right to celebrate
divine services and to exclude all other nations. But, says he, that which
has always been the great prize contended for by the several sects, is the
command and appropriation of the holy Sepulchre; a privilege contested
with so much unchristian fury and animosity, especially between the Greeks
and Latins that, in disputing which party should go in to celebrate their
mass, they have sometimes proceeded to blows and wounds, even at the very
door of the sepulchre, mingling their own blood with their sacrifices. The
King of Franca interposed about the end of the seventeenth century, and
obtained an order for the grand vizier to put that holy place into the
possession of the Western Church; an arrangement which was accomplished in
the year 1690, and secured to the Latins the exclusive privilege of saying
mass in it. "And though it be permitted to Christians of all nations to go
into it for their private devotions, yet none other may solemnize any
public office of religion there."[82]
The daily employment of these recluses is to trim the lamps, and to make
devotional visits and processions to the several sanctuaries in the
church. Thus they spend their time, many of them for four or six years
together; nay, so far are some transported with the pleasing contemplation
in which they here entertain themselves, that they will never come out to
their dying day; burying themselves, as it were, alive in our Lord's
grave.
It was at the holy season of Easter that Mr. Maundrell visited Jerusalem,
when he witnessed the annual service performed by the monks; rather too
minutely descriptive, perhaps, of the great event to which it refers.
"Their ceremony begins on Good Friday night, which is called by them the
_Nox Tenebrosa_, and is observed with such an extraordinary solemnity that
I cannot omit to give a particular description of it:--As soon as it grew
dark, all the friars and pilgrims were convened in the chapel of the
Apparition, in order to go in a procession round the church. But before
they set out one of the friars preached a sermon in Italian: He began his
discourse thus:--_In questa notte tenebrosa_,--at which words all the
candles were instantly put out, to yield a livelier image of the occasion:
and so we were held the preacher for nearly half an hour very much in the
dark. Sermon being ended, every person present had a large lighted taper
put into his hand, as if it were to make amends for the former darkness;
and the crucifixes and other utensils were disposed in order for beginning
the procession. Among the other crucifixes there was one of a very large
size, which bore upon it the image of our Lord as big as the life. The
image was fastened to it with great nails, crowned with thorns, and
besmeared with blood; and so exquisitely was it formed, that it
represented, in a very lively manner, the lamentable spectacle of our
Lord's body as it hung upon the cross. This figure was carried all along
in the head of the procession; after which the company followed to all the
sanctuaries in the church, singing their appointed hymn at every one.
"The first place they visited was that of the pillar of Flagellation, a
large piece of which is kept in a little cell just at the door of the
chapel of the Apparition. There they sang their proper hymn; and another
friar entertained the company with a sermon in Spanish, touching the
scourging of our Lord. From hence they proceeded in solemn order to the
prison of Christ, where they pretend he was secured while the soldiers
made things ready for his crucifixion; here likewise they sang their hymn,
and a third friar preached in French. From the prison they went to the
altar of the Division of our Lord's garments, where they only sang their
hymn without adding any sermon. Having done here, they advanced to the
chapel of the Division; at which, after their hymn, they had a fourth
sermon, as I remember, in French.
"From this place they went up to Calvary, leaving their shoes at the
bottom of the stairs. Here are two altars to be visited; one where our
Lord is supposed to have been nailed to the cross, another where his cross
was erected. At the former of these they laid down the great crucifix upon
the floor, and acted a kind of resemblance of Christ's being nailed to the
cross; and after the hymn another friar preached a sermon in Spanish upon
the crucifixion. From hence they removed to the adjoining altar, where the
cross is supposed to have been erected, bearing the image of our Lord's
body. At this altar is a hole in the natural rock, said to be the very
same individual one in which the foot of our Lord's cross stood. Here they
set up their cross with the bloody crucified image upon it; and leaving it
in that posture, they first sang their hymn, and then the father guardian,
sitting in a chair before it, preached a passion sermon in Italian.
"At about one yard and a half distant from the hole in which the foot of
the cross was fixed is seen that memorable cleft in the rock, said to have
been made by the earthquake which happened at the suffering of the God of
nature; when, as St. Matthew witnesseth, the rocks rent and the very
graves were opened. This cleft, or what now appears of it, is about a span
wide at its upper part, and two deep; after which it closes. But it opens
again below, as you may see in another chapel contiguous to the side of
Calvary, and runs down to an unknown depth in the earth. That this rent
was made by the earthquake that happened at our Lord's passion there is
only tradition to prove; but that it is a natural and genuine breach, and
not counterfeited by any art, the sense and reason of every one that sees
it may convince him; for the sides of it fit like two tallies to each
other, and yet it runs in such intricate windings as could not well be
counterfeited by art, nor arrived at by any instruments.
"The ceremony of the passion being over, and the guardian's sermon ended,
two friars, personating, the one Joseph of Arimathea, the other Nicodemus,
approached the cross, and with a most solemn, concerned air, both of
aspect and behaviour, drew out the great nails, and took down the feigned
body from the cross. It was an _effigies_ so contrived that its limbs were
soft and flexible, as if they had been real flesh; and nothing could be
more surprising that to see the two pretended mourners bend down the arms
which were before extended, and dispose them upon the trunk in such a
manner as is usual in corpses. The body being taken down from the cross
was received in a fair large winding-sheet, and carried down from Calvary;
the whole company attending as before to the stone of Unction. This is
taken for the very place where the precious body of our Lord was annointed
and prepared for the burial. Here they laid down their imaginary corpse;
and casting over it several sweet powders and spices, wrapped it up in the
winding-sheet. While this was doing they sang their proper hymn, and
afterward one of the friars preached in Arabic a funeral-sermon. These
obsequies being finished, they carried off their fancied corpse and laid
it in the Sepulchre, shutting up the door till Easter morning. And now,
after so many sermons, and so long, not to say tedious, a ceremony, it may
well be imagined that the weariness of the congregation, as well as the
hour of the night, made it needful to go to rest."[83]
Easter-eve passed without any remarkable observance,--a period of leisure
which was employed by many of the pilgrims in having their arms marked
with the usual ensigns of Jerusalem. "The artists who undertake the
operation do it in this manner; they have stamps of wood of any figure
that you desire, which they first print off upon your arm with powder of
charcoal, then taking two very fine needles tied close together, and
dipping them often, like a pen, in certain ink compounded, as I was
informed, of gun-powder and ox-gall, they make with them small punctures
all along the lines of the figure which they have printed; and then,
washing the part in wine, conclude the work. The punctures they make with
great quickness and dexterity, and with scarce any smart, seldom piercing
so deep as to draw blood. In the afternoon of this day the congregation
was assembled in the area before the holy grave; where the friars spent
some hours in singing over the Lamentations of Jeremiah; which function,
with the usual procession to the holy places, was all the ceremony
required by the ritual of the place."
On Easter-day the scene was changed from gloom to the most lively
congratulation. "The clouds of the former morning were cleared up; and the
friars put on a face of joy and serenity, as if it had been the real
juncture of our Lord's resurrection. Nor doubtless was this joy feigned,
whatever their mourning might be; this being the day on which their Lenten
disciplines expired, and they were now come to a full belly again. The
mass was celebrated this morning just before the Holy Sepulchre, being the
most eminent place in the church; where the father guardian had a throne
erected, and being arrayed in episcopal robes, with a mitre on his head,
in the sight of the Turks he gave the Host to all that were disposed to
receive it; not refusing it to children of seven or eight years old. This
office being ended, we made our exit out of the Sepulchre, and returning
to the convent, dined with the friars."[84]
The latest travellers in Palestine witnessed similar observances on the
same solemn occasion, none of which were in the least calculated to edify
an enlightened mind, and many of them such as could not be contemplated
without feelings of just indignation, mingled with contempt.
There is no greater obstacle to the propagation of Christianity among the
Syrian tribes, and more especially among the Turks and Jews, than the
foolish exhibitions which disgrace the return of the principal festivals
in the Holy Land. The mummeries already described could not fail to be
sufficiently revolting to a people who permit not any image or
representation of created things, even in the uses of ordinary life.
Still, the sincerity and apparent devotion with which the ceremony of the
crucifixion was performed might, in some degree, atone for the unseemly
method adopted by the monks to commemorate an event at once so solemn and
important. But what shall be said in defence of the manifest fraud which
is annually practised in Jerusalem on Easter-eve by the Greek church, when
the credulous multitude are taught to believe that fire descends from
heaven into the Holy Sepulchre to kindle their lamps and torches?
Upon comparing the description given by Maundrell with the accounts of the
latest travellers, we perceive that nearly a century and a half has passed
away without producing any improvement, and that the friars of the present
age are probably not less ignorant or dishonest than their predecessors
five hundred years ago. "They began their disorders by running round the
Holy Sepulchre with all their might and swiftness, crying out as they went
_huia_, which signifies _this is he_, or _this is it_,--an expression by
which they assert the verity of the Christian religion. After they had by
these religious circulations and clamours turned their heads and inflamed
their madness, they began to act the moat antic tricks and postures in a
thousand shapes of distraction. Sometimes they dragged one another along
the floor all round the Sepulchre; sometimes they set one man upright upon
another's shoulders, and in this posture marched round; sometimes they
tumbled round the Sepulchre after the manner of tumblers on the stage. In
a word, nothing can be imagined more rude or extravagant than what was
acted upon this occasion."[85]
"The Greeks first set out in a procession round the Holy Sepulchre, and
immediately at their heels followed the Armenians. In this order they
compassed the Holy Sepulchre thrice, having produced all their gallantry
of standards, streamers, crucifixes, and embroidered habits. Towards the
end of this procession there was a pigeon came fluttering into the cupola
over the Sepulchre, at sight of which there was a greater shout and
clamour than before. This bird, the Latins told us, was purposely let fly
by the Greeks to deceive the people into an opinion that it was a visible
descent of the Holy Ghost. The procession being over, the suffragan of the
Greek patriarch and the principal Armenian bishop approached to the door
of the Sepulchre, and, cutting the string with which it is fastened and
sealed, entered in, shutting the door after them, all the candles and
lamps within having been before extinguished in the presence of the Turks
and other witnesses. The exclamations were doubled as the miracle drew
nearer to its accomplishment; and the people pressed with such vehemence
towards the door of the Sepulchre that it was not in the power of the
Turks to keep them off. The cause of their pressing in this manner is, the
great desire they have to light their candles at the holy flame as soon as
it is first brought out of the Sepulchre, it being esteemed the most
sacred and pure as coming immediately from heaven. The two miracle-mongers
had not been above a minute in the Holy Sepulchre when the glimmering of
the holy fire was seen, or imagined to appear, through some chinks in the
door; and, certainly, Bedlam itself never saw such an unruly transport as
was produced in the mob at this sight.
"Immediately after, out came two priests with blazing torches in their
hands, which they held up at the door of the Sepulchre; while the people
thronged about with inexpressible ardour, every one striving to obtain a
part of the first and purest flame. The Turks, in the mean time, with huge
clubs laid on without mercy; but all this could not repel them, the excess
of their fury making them insensible of pain. Those that got the fire
applied it immediately to their beards, faces, and bosoms, pretending that
it would not burn like an earthly flame. But I plainly saw none of them
could endure this experiment long enough to make good that pretension. So
many hands being employed, you may be sure it could not be long before
innumerable tapers were lighted. The whole church, galleries, and every
place seemed instantly to be in a flame; and with this illumination the
ceremony ended.
"It must be owned that those two within the Sepulchre performed their part
with great quickness and dexterity; but the behaviour of the rabble
without very much discredited the miracle. The Latins take a great deal of
pains to expose this ceremony as a most shameful imposture and a scandal
to the Christian religion,--perhaps out of envy that others should be
masters of so gainful a business. But the Greeks and Armenians pin their
faith upon it; such is the deplorable unhappiness of their priests, that
having acted the cheat so long already, they are forced now to stand to it
for fear of endangering the apostacy of their people. Going out of church
after the rant was over, we saw several people gathered about the Stone of
Unction, who, having got a good store of candles lighted with the holy
fire, were employed in daubing pieces of linen with the wicks of them and
the melting wax, which pieces of linen were designed for winding-sheets.
And it is the opinion of these poor people, that if they can but have the
happiness to be buried in a shroud smutted with this celestial fire, it
will certainly secure them from the flames of hell."[86]
Dr. Richardson, who witnessed the same pitiful ceremony, is not inclined
to give much honour to the performers in respect to skill or dexterous
manipulation. On the contrary, he is of opinion that there is not a
pyrotechnist in London who could not have improved the exhibition. From
the station which he occupied in the church, being the organ-loft of the
Roman Catholic division, he distinctly saw the flame issuing from a
burning substance placed within the tomb, and which was raised and lowered
according to circumstances. The priests meant to be very artful, but were
in reality very ignorant. Like the Druids of old, no one, under the pain
of excommunication, dared to light his torch at that of another; every
individual was bound to derive his flame from the miraculous spark that
descended from above, and which could only be conveyed by the hands of the
chief priest.[87]
Having seen the exhibition of this vile and infamous delusion, the
traveller naturally inquires what credit he ought to give to the
historical statements and local descriptions derived from the Christians
who now occupy Jerusalem. Are the honoured spots within these walls really
what the guardians of the metropolitan church declare them to be? Is the
Mount Calvary shown at this day in the holy city the actual place where
Christ expired upon the cross to redeem the human race? Is the Sepulchre
there exhibited really that of the just man Joseph of Arimathea, in which
the body of the blessed Jesus was laid? Or are all these merely convenient
spots, fixed on at random, and consecrated to serve the interested views
of a crafty priesthood?[88]
We agree in the conclusion, that it is of no consequence to the Christian
faith in what way these questions shall be determined. The great facts on
which the history of the gospel is founded are not so closely connected
with particular spots of earth or sacred buildings as to be rendered
doubtful by any mistake in the choice of a locality. Nor is there any
material discrepancy between the opinions of Chateaubriand, which we are
inclined to adopt, and those of Dr. Clarke, who treats with contempt all
the traditions respecting holy places; for the outline may be correct,
although the minuter details are open to a just suspicion. For example, it
is now extremely difficult to trace the boundaries of Calvary; the effects
of time and the operations of the siege under the Roman prince have
obliterated some of the features by which that remarkable scene was
distinguished; it has even ceased to present the appearance of a mount--an
appellation, by-the-way, which is nowhere given to it in Scripture. But it
does not follow that the Christians who returned from Pella to inhabit the
ruins of the sacred metropolis should have been equally ignorant of its
extent and situation; nor is it at all probable that places so interesting
to the affections of the infant church would be allowed to fall into a
speedy oblivion.
The main error of the modern priests at Jerusalem arises from an anxiety
to exhibit every thing to which any allusion is made by the evangelical
historians; not remembering that the lapse of ages and the devastation of
successive wars have destroyed much, and disguised more, which the early
disciples could most readily identify. The mere circumstance that almost
all the events which attended the close of our Saviour's ministry are
crowded into one scene, covered by the roof of a single church, might
excite a very justifiable doubt as to the exactness of the topography
maintained by the friars of Mount Moriah. "This edifice," says Mr.
Maundrell, "is less than one hundred paces long, and not more than sixty
wide; and yet it is so contrived, that it is supposed to contain under its
roof twelve or thirteen sanctuaries, or places consecrated to a more than
ordinary veneration, by being reputed to have some particular actions done
in them relating to the death and resurrection of Christ."[89]
All that can now be affirmed, observes Dr. Clarke, with any show of
reason, is this, "that if Helena had reason to believe she could identify
the spot where the Sepulchre was, she took especial care to remove every
trace of it, in order to introduce the fanciful and modern work which now
remains. The place may be the same pointed out to her; but not a remnant
of the original Sepulchre can now be ascertained. Yet, with our skeptical
feelings thus awakened, it may prove how powerful the effect of sympathy
is, if we confess, that when we entered into the supposed Sepulchre, and
beheld, by the light of lamps there continually burning, the venerable
figure of an aged monk, with streaming eyes and a long white beard,
pointing to 'the place where the Lord lay,' and calling upon us to kneel
and experience pardon for our sins,--we did kneel, and we participated in
the feelings of more credulous pilgrims. Captain Culverhouse, in whose
mind the ideas of religion and of patriotism were inseparable, with firmer
emotion, drew from its scabbard the sword he had so often wielded in the
defence of his country, and placed it upon the tomb. Humbler comers heaped
the memorials of an accomplished pilgrimage; and while their sighs alone
interrupted the silence of the sanctuary a solemn service was begun."[90]
It is observed by the author of the Itinéraire, that the ancient
travellers were extremely fortunate in not being obliged to enter into all
these critical disquisitions; in the first place, because they found in
their readers that religion which never contends against truth; and,
secondly, because every mind was convinced that the only way of seeing a
country as it is must be to see it with all its traditions and
recollections. It is, in fact, with the Bible as his guide that a
traveller ought to visit the Holy Land. If we are determined to carry with
us a spirit of cavil and contradiction, Judea is not worth our going so
far to examine it. What should we say to a man who, in traversing Greece
and Italy, should think of nothing but contradicting Homer and Virgil?
Such, however, is the course adopted by too many modern travellers;
evidently the effect of our vanity, which would excite a high idea of our
own abilities, and at the same time fill us with disdain for those of
other people.[91]
A short time after M. Chateaubriand visited Jerusalem, the church of the
Holy Sepulchre was destroyed by fire; and although it has been since
repaired, it is admitted that both the architecture and the internal
decorations are much inferior to those of the original edifice. The
general plan of the whole building, however, as well as the arrangement of
the holy stations, are so exactly preserved, that the descriptions of the
earliest writers apply as correctly to its present as to its former state.
It is true, that the tombs of Godfrey de Bouillon and of Baldwin his
brother, which called forth the enthusiastic admiration of the French
author just named, have been annihilated by the malignant Greeks, so that
not a vestige remains to mark the spot whereon they stood. The Corinthian
columns of fine marble which formerly adorned the interior being rendered
useless by the fire, the dome is now supported by tall slender pillars of
masonry, plastered on the outside, and so closely grouped together as to
produce the worst effect. We are told, indeed, that the meanness of every
thing about the architecture of the central dome, and of the whole rotunda
which surrounds the Sepulchre itself, can only be exceeded by the wretched
taste of its painted decorations.[92]
It was of the older building that the Vicomte made the following
remarks:--"The church of the Holy Sepulchre, composed of several churches
erected upon an unequal surface, illumined by a multitude of lamps, is
singularly mysterious; a sombre light pervades it, favourable to piety and
profound devotion. Christian priests of various sects inhabit different
parts of the edifice. From the arches above, where they nestle like
pigeons, from the chapels below and subterraneous vaults, their songs are
heard at all hours both of the day and night. The organ of the Latin
monks, the cymbals of the Abyssinian priest, the voice of the Greek
caloyer, the prayer of the solitary Armenian, the plaintive accents of the
Coptic friar, alternately, or all at once, assail your ear. You know not
whence these accents of praise proceed; you inhale the perfume of incense
without perceiving the hand that burns it: you merely observe the pontiff,
who is going to celebrate the most awful of mysteries on the very spot
where they were accomplished, pass quickly by, glide behind the columns,
and vanish in the gloom of the temple.
"Christian readers will perhaps inquire what were my feelings upon
entering this sacred place. I really cannot tell. So many reflections
rushed at once upon my mind, that I was unable to dwell upon any
particular idea. I continued nearly half an hour upon my knees in the
little chamber of the Holy Sepulchre, with my eyes riveted upon the stone,
from which I had not the power to turn them. One of the two monks who
accompanied me remained prostrate on the marble by my side, while the
other, with the Testament in his hand, read to me by the light of the
lamps the passages relating to the sacred tomb. All I can say is that when
I beheld this triumphant Sepulchre, I felt nothing but my own weakness;
and that when my guide exclaimed with St. Paul, O death, where is thy
sting? O grave, where is thy victory? I listened, as if death were about
to reply that he was conquered and enchained in this monument. Where shall
we look in antiquity for anything so impressive, so wonderful, as the last
scenes described by the Evangelists? These are not the absurd adventures
of a deity foreign to human nature: it is a most pathetic history,--a
history which not only extorts tears by its beauty, but whose
consequences, applied to the universe, have changed the face of the earth.
I had just beheld the monuments of Greece, and my mind was still
profoundly impressed with their grandeur; but how far inferior were the
sentiments which they excited to those I felt at the sight of the places
commemorated in the gospel!"[93]
We must not presume to follow the ardent pilgrim along the _Via Dolorosa_,
the name given to the way which the Saviour passed from the house of
Pilate to the Mount of Calvary, nor can we stop to revere the arch, called
_Ecce Homo_, where, we are told, the window may still be seen from which
the Roman judge exclaimed to the vindictive Jews, "Behold the Man!" We
cannot resign our belief to the minute description which recognises the
house of Simon the Pharisee, where Mary Magdalene confessed her sins; the
prison of St. Peter, and the dwelling of Mary the mother of Mark, in which
the same apostle took refuge when he was set at liberty by the angel; and
the mansion of Dives, the rich man at whose gate the mendicant Lazarus was
laid, full of sores.
On crossing the small ravine which divides the modern city from Mount
Zion, the attention of the traveller is drawn to three ancient monuments,
or more properly ruins. Covered with buildings comparatively modern,--the
house of Caiaphas,--the place where Christ held his Last Supper,--and the
tomb or palace of David. The first of these is now a church, the duty of
which is performed by the Armenians; the second, consecrated by the
affecting solemnity, with the memory of which it is still associated,
presents a mosque and a Turkish hospital; while the third, a small vaulted
apartment, contains only three sepulchres formed of dark-coloured atone.
This holy hill is equally celebrated in the Old Testament and in the New.
Here the successor of Saul built a city and a royal dwelling,--here he
kept for three months the Ark of the Covenant;--here the Redeemer
instituted the sacrament which commemorates his death,--here he appeared
to his disciples on the day of his resurrection,--and here the Holy Ghost
descended on the apostles. The place hallowed by the Last Supper, if we
may believe the early Fathers, was transformed into the first Christian
temple the world ever saw, where St. James the Less was consecrated the
first bishop of Jerusalem, and where he presided in the first council of
the church. Finally, it was from this spot that the apostles, in
compliance with the injunction to go and teach all nations, departed,
without purse and without scrip, to seat their religion upon all the
thrones of the earth.
Descending Mount Zion on the east side, you perceive in the valley the
Fountain and Pool of Siloam, so celebrated in the history of our Saviour's
miracles. The brook itself is ill supplied with water, and, compared with
the ideas formed in the mind by the fine invocation of the poet, usually
creates disappointment. Going a few paces to the northward, you come to
the source of the scanty rivulet, which is called by some the Fountain of
the Virgin, from an opinion that she frequently came hither to drink. It
appears in a recess about twenty feet lower than the surface, and under an
arched vault of masonry tolerably well executed. The rock had been
originally hewn down to reach this pool; and a small crooked passage, of
which only the beginning is seen, is said to convey the water out of the
Valley of Siloam, and to supply the means of irrigating the little gardens
still cultivated in that spot. Notwithstanding the dirty state of the
water, and its harsh and brackish taste, it is still used by devout
pilgrims for diseases of the eye.[94]
It is said to have a kind of ebb and flow, sometimes discharging its
current like the Fountain of Vaucluse, at others retaining and scarcely
suffering it to run at all. The Levites, we are likewise told, used to
sprinkle the water of Siloam on the altar at the Feast of Tabernacles,
saying, "Ye shall draw water with joy from the wells of salvation." The
reader will find on the opposite page a representation of the Fountain or
Pool of Siloam, as it appeared to the eye of an able traveller; a
considerable part of the arch having fallen down, or been destroyed by the
barbarians who continue to hold Jerusalem in subjection.
The Valley of Jehoshaphat stretches between the eastern walls of the city
and the Mount of Olives, containing a great variety of objects, to which
allusion is made in the Sacred Writings. It was sometimes called the
King's Dale, from a reference to an event recorded in the history of
Abraham, and was afterward distinguished by the name of Jehoshaphat,
because that sovereign erected in it a magnificent tomb. This narrow vale
seems to have always served as a burying-place for the inhabitants of the
holy city: there you meet with monuments of the most remote ages, as well
as of the most modern times: thither the descendants of Jacob resort from
the four quarters of the globe, to yield up their last breath; and a
foreigner sells to them, for its weight in gold, a scanty spot of earth to
cover their remains in the land of their forefathers. Observing many Jews,
whom I could easily recognise by their yellow turbans, quick dark eyes,
black eyebrows, and bushy beards, walking about the place, and reposing
along the Brook Kedron in a pensive mood, the pathetic language of the
Psalmist occurred to me, as expressing the subject of their
meditation--'By the rivers we sat down and wept when we remembered Zion.'
Upon frequently inquiring the motive that prompted them in attempting to
go to Jerusalem, the answer was, 'To die in the land of our fathers.'[95]
This valley or dale still exhibits a very desolate appearance. The western
side is a high chalk-cliff supporting the walls of the city; above which
you perceive Jerusalem itself; while the eastern acclivity is formed by
the Mount of Olives and the Mount of Offence, so called from the idolatry
which oppresses the fame of Solomon. These two hills are nearly naked, and
of a dull red colour. On their slopes are seen, here and there, a few
bleak and parched vines, some groves of wild olive-trees, wastes covered
with hyssop, chapels, oratories, and mosques in ruins. At the bottom of
the valley you discover a bridge of a single arch, thrown across the
channel of the Brook Kedron. The stones in the Jewish cemetery look like a
heap of rubbish at the foot of the Mount of Offence, below the Arab
village of Siloane, the paltry houses of which are scarcely to be
distinguished from the surrounding sepulchres. From the stillness of
Jerusalem, whence no smoke arises and no noise proceeds,--from the
solitude of these hills, where no living creature is to be seen,--from the
ruinous state of all these tombs, overthrown, broken, and half-open, you
would imagine that the last trumpet had already sounded, and that the
Valley of Jehoshaphat was about to render up its dead.
Amid this scene of desolation three monuments arrest the eyes of the
intelligent pilgrim,--the tombs of Zachariah, of Absalom, and of the king
whose name still distinguishes the valley. The first-mentioned of these is
a square mass of rock, hewn down into form, and isolated from the quarry
out of which it is cut by a passage of twelve or fifteen feet wide on
three of its sides; the fourth or western front being open towards the
valley and to Mount Moriah, the foot of which is only a few yards distant.
This huge stone is eight paces in length on each side, and about twenty
feet high in the front, and ten feet high at the back; the hill on which
it stands having a steep ascent. It has four semicolumns cut out of the
same rock on each of its faces, with a pilaster at each angle, all of a
mixed Ionic order, and ornamented in bad taste. The architraves, the full
moulding, and the deep overhanging cornice which finishes the square, are
all perfectly after the Egyptian manner; and the whole is surmounted by a
pyramid, the sloping aides of which rise from the very edges of the square
below, and terminate in a finished point.
The body of this monument, we have already stated, is one solid mass of
rock, as well as its semicolumns on each face; but the surmounting pyramid
appears to be of masonry. Its sides, however, are perfectly smooth, like
the coated pyramids of Sahara and Dashour, and not graduated by stages
like those of Dijzeh in lower Egypt.
Inconsiderable in size and paltry in its ornaments, this monument, as Mr.
Buckingham observes, is eminently curious. There is no appearance of an
entrance into any part of it; so that it seems; if a tomb, to have been as
firmly closed as the Egyptian pyramids, and, perhaps, for the same respect
for the repose of the dead. It is probable, indeed, that the original
style and plan of the building are derived from the country of the
Pharaohs; while the Grecian columns and pilasters may be the work of a
much later period, when the Jews had learned to combine with the massy
piles of their more ancient architecture the elegant lightness which
distinguished the times of the Seleucidae.[96]
In the immediate vicinity is the tomb of Jehoshaphat,--a cavern which is
more commonly called the Grotto of the Disciples, from an idea that they
went frequently thither to be taught by their Divine Master. The front of
this excavation has two Doric pillars of small size, but of just
proportions. In the interior are three chambers, all of them rude and
irregular in their form, in one of which were several gravestones,
removed, we may suppose, from the open ground for greater security. Like
all the rest, they were flat slabs of an oblong shape, from three to six
inches in thickness, and evidently a portion of the limestone rock which
composes the adjoining hills.
Opposite to this, on the east, is the reputed tomb of Absalom, resembling
nearly in the size, form, and decoration of its square base that of
Zachariah already described; except that it is sculptured with the metopes
and triglyphs of the Doric order. This is surmounted by a sharp conical
dome, having large mouldings running round its base, and on the summit
something like an imitation of flame. There is here again so strange a
mixture of style and ornament, that one knows not to what age to attribute
the monument as a whole. The square mass below is solid, and the Ionic
columns which are seen on each of its faces are half-indented in the rock
itself. The dome is of masonry, and on the eastern side there is a square
aperture in it. Generally speaking, the sight of this monument rather
confirms the idea suggested by the tomb of Zachariah, that the hewn mass
of solid rock, the surmounting pyramid and dome of masonry, and the
sculptured frieze and Ionic columns wrought on the faces of the square
below were works of different periods; being probably ancient sepulchres,
the primitive character of which had been changed by the subsequent
addition of foreign ornaments. There is, besides, every reason to believe
that this monument, represented below, really occupies the site of the one
which was set up by him whose name it bears. "Now Absalom in his lifetime
had reared up for himself a pillar, which is in the King's Dale: for he
said, I have no son to keep my name in remembrance; and he called the
pillar after his own name: and it is called unto this day Absalom's
Place."[97]
Chateaubriand is of opinion, that except the Pool of Bethesda at
Jerusalem, we have no remains of the primitive architecture of its
inhabitants. This reservoir, a hundred and fifty feet long and forty
broad, is still to be seen near St. Stephen's Gate, where it bounded the
Temple on the north. The sides are walled by means of large stones joined
together by iron cramps, and covered with flints imbedded in a substance
resembling plaster. Here the lambs destined for sacrifice were washed; and
it was on the brink of this pool that Christ said to the paralytic man,
"Arise, take up thy bed and walk." It receives a melancholy interest from
the fact that it is probably the last remnant of Jerusalem as it appeared
in the days of Solomon and of his immediate successors.
It cannot be denied that the tombs in the Valley of Jehoshaphat display an
alliance of Egyptian and Grecian taste; and, in naturalizing in their
capital the architecture of Memphis and of Athens, it is equally certain
that the Jews mixed with it the forms of their own peculiar style. From
this combination resulted a heterogeneous kind of structure, forming, as
it were, the link between the Pyramids and the Parthenon,--monuments in
which you discover a sombre, yet bold and elevated genius, associated with
a pleasing and cultivated imagination.
Our limits forbid us to follow the footsteps of the pilgrim in his minute
survey of the "Sepulchres of the Kings," which, it is acknowledged, cannot
be traced back to a remoter era than that of the Grecian dynasty at
Antioch and Damascus. There are several other tombs and grottoes, to which
tradition has attached venerable names, and even consecrated them as the
scene of important events; but as they are not remarkable on any other
account, we shall not extend to an undue length our description of the
holy places under the walls of Jerusalem.
We shall simply remark, that a difference of opinion exists among modern
travellers in regard to the extent of the ancient city, the ground which
it actually covered, the changes that it has since undergone in point of
locality, and hence, in respect to the position of some of the more
prominent objects which attract the attention of the inquisitive tourist
in our own days. Dr. Clarke has distinguished himself by some bold
speculations on this head, the effect of which is to derange all the
received notions relative to the scene of the crucifixion and the place of
the Holy Sepulchre. It will indeed be readily granted, that it is a matter
of very small importance to the faith of a Christian to determine whether
the decease which was accomplished at Jerusalem took place on the
north-western or the south-eastern extremity of that metropolis. But as
the history and tradition of many ages have fixed the spot where the cross
was erected and where the new tomb in the rock had its situation, it is
requisite that the arguments of a writer who himself pays so little
respect to authority should be examined with attention. In this case, it
is obvious, an inspection of the ground candidly and distinctly reported
is of much more weight than the most ingenious reasoning if destitute of
facts; on which account, we are happy to have it in our power to refer to
the journal of a learned gentleman hitherto unpublished, who about three
years ago travelled in Syria and Palestine.
"We passed by the place of St. Stephen's martyrdom down into the Valley of
Jehoshaphat. This valley, independently of associations, is highly
picturesque. It is deep and narrow; the lower part is green with scattered
olives. The slope up towards the city is also smooth and green, and
crowned by the towers and battlements. On ascending the Mount of Olives,
which we did towards the south, we had a splendid view of Jerusalem. The
chief ornaments are the two domes of the Holy Sepulchre, the mosque of
Omar, and another large mosque with a smaller dome; but the white houses
make a good show, and the walls are picturesque. On looking at Jerusalem
from this place, the great features seemed to me to agree entirely with
the established maps, and Dr. Clarke's theory appeared quite untenable.
The only difficulty is, that there is no valley which _runs up all the
way_ so as to divide entirely Mount Zion from Mount Moriah. A ravine does
run far enough to cut off the Temple, but no more. The extent of this
difficulty must depend on the description left us of the Tyropaeum and
Millo. Was there a deep valley such as time and change might not have
obliterated? The people of the convent gave the name of the Mount of
Offence to a low hill on the south of the Mount of Olives; but Clarke
seems to think that the real Mount of Offence is that divided by Jehinnom
from Zion, and called by our guide Monte de Mal Consiglio. We visited the
Mohammedan chapel over the place of the Ascension, and saw the alleged
print of Christ's foot. We next went to the place called Viri Galilaei (ye
men of Galilee), and, after looking in vain for Dr. Clarke's pagan
remains, descended towards the Cave of the Prophets. We saw the well where
Nehemiah found the fire of the altar, and then went up the Valley of
Hinnom; first to the tomb called the Crypt of the Apostles, close to the
Aceldama, or Field of Blood. We saw many other grottoes; one had [Greek:
taes hagias Sion] inscribed upon it, as had another much farther up. Near
this last was that which Clarke maintained to be the Holy Sepulchre. We
saw one which would do very well for it; but so would many others. This
one was a cave, with a place for a body cut out in the back part of it,
but raised like a stone trough, not sunk in the floor. There is, of
course, not a shadow of reason for thinking Clarke's cave to be the real
one, and very little that I can see for doubting that the nominal Holy
Sepulchre is so in fact, or, rather, that it is _on the site_ of the real
one, which must have been destroyed when Adrian erected his temple to
Venus on the spot. From these caves we went by the Pool of Bathsheba to
the Bethlehem Gate, and so along the west side of the town to the Tombs of
the Judges and Kings, which lie north or north-west of the city. I
observed large foundations of ancient walls and heaps of rubbish west of
the modern town, where Clarke seems to assume that there was anciently no
part of the city. There and on the north I also observed wells opening
into large covered reservoirs for water. We entered only one of the Tombs
of the Judges, the rest being insignificant. That one was large, with a
pediment which had dentiles and other Greek ornaments. Inside there were
at least three chambers, surrounded by receptacles for bodies. In
returning we went to the Tombs of the Kings, which, like the others, are
cut out of the rock, and, like them too, have Grecian ornaments. There is
one large cave; the front has a handsome entablature, the upper part
ornamented with alternate circular garlands, bunches of grapes, and an
ornament of acanthus leaves; the lower with a rich band of foliage
disposed with much elegance."[98]
Hence, it appears that the weight of evidence preponderates decidedly in
favour of the common opinions in regard to the form of the ancient city
and the places which are usually denominated holy. Why, then, should any
one attempt to disturb the belief or acquiescence of the Christian world
on a subject concerning which all nations have hitherto found reason to
agree? The members of the primitive church had better means than we have
of being fully informed respecting the scenes of the evangelical history;
and it is manifest that amid all the changes which ensued in Jerusalem,
either from conquest or superstition, nothing was more unlikely than that
the faithful should forget the sacred spot where their redemption was
completed, or that they should consent to transfer their veneration to any
other.[99]