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Les diagrammes suivants illustrent la m6thode. 1 2 3 32X 1 2 3 4 5 6 I HISTORY OF TURKEY AM) THE WAR IN THE EAST mi il II, ■■'■!! lit"- hi ;' i,' ■ Ji'! '''T'"i."l'|J'i'|l'i ■hi'h ! • |i ii I I'll'! '■''"!; '"'I i if! liiii': ;ii; ;ii - 'I , !;i:ii' "''If III' H: I'"'' I li'^liil Hit (iii;'ri:^;i|t';i:ir;r:i'f !;!■'' .' i\ ill Bfm iiil'i'i'ii''!''":' ^'m\^% , iiiiiii!:iiiaiii!:.iilliii;lii !.■ ", ji "7 THE History OF Turkey -AND- THE WAR IN EGYPT, -COMPKISINC- iii' /'. y. r y .3 I I A GRAPHIC DESCRMTION OF THK COUNTRY, INCLUDING PALES- riNE, EGYPT AND OTHER PROVINCES OF TURKEY ; THE HABITS AND CUSTOMS OF THE TURKS AND AUAHS ; THEIR RELIGIOUS RITES AND CEREMONIES ; THE LIFE OF MAHOMET ; INTERVIEWS WITH THE SULTAN, VIZIERS AND PASHAS; AND UNFOLDING THE MYSTERIES OF HAREMS, MOSQUES, TEMPLES AND THE SERAGLIO. With a Full Account of THE REBELLION AND BUTCHERY IN ALEXANDRIA AND THE ORIGIN. PROGRESS AND RESULTS OF THE ANGLO EGYPTIAN WAR; WITH BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES OF LEADING ENGLISH OFFICERS, THEIR VALOROUS DEEDS, ETC., BIT i^. .A.. UA^iynvronsTP, Author of " Travels in the Holy Lniul," '^ t! / 44. Turkish Infantry of the Line on theS March ( {full g 45. Discussing the Eastern Question at C page) ^ ^ the Council J 46. The Battle of Izvor, Bulgaria \ 47. Religious Services on Board a Turkish \ {f^iH Man-of-War J page) "^^S 48. Portrait of Costan Pasha \ (/"^^ 49. Portrait of Mukhtar Pasha j page) ^^^ 50. Colored Map of the Whole of the Turkish Empire and border countries 502 CONTENTS. PA(,F. List of Illustrations 5 Contents 7 Introduction ii CHAPTER I. Origin of the Turks — The Saracens — Mahomet, the Pro- , hot- Othinan, the first Sultan- Advance into Europe — Defeat of the Hunjjarians — Capture of Constantinople — Formation of the Government — Defeat of the Persians — Solnnan I., the Law-giver — Siege of Vienna — The zenith of Turkish power — Wonderful success — Conquest of Hungary — The terror of Europe — Conquest of Persia — Austria pays tribute— Pride, arrogance, and disaster — Feebler rulers — Waning power— Second Siege of Vienna — War with Russia — Turkish defeat — Destruction of the Turkish fleet — The^ Janissaries — The Greek revolution — Continued disasters — Russian victories — Revolt in Egypt — Turkish fanaticism — Outrages on Christians— The Crimean War — Battle of Alma — Sebastopol — Turkish weakness and poverty — Massacre of Christians — Commencement of the provincial rebellions — Abdul Hamid II 2t CHAPTER II. Turkey in Asia — Its antiquity — Syria — Palestine and Holy Land described — Its fertility — Wealth of the Jews — The Crusaders — A land of milk and honey — The various religions — Palestine under the Turks — Tyre — Ruins of Acre — Ciesarea — Joppa 63 CHAPTER III. Jerusalem — Description of the city — The monks — Mount of Olives — The Sepulchres — The Mosque of Omar— A sacred enclosure — Tl.c magical stone — Superstitions and celebrations »• 102 Vlll, CONTENTS. CHAPTER IV. Oethsemane— The potter's field — Mahometan burials — Jewish homes — Synagogues — Armenian customs — Trade and commerce — Oriental habits — Mosque of David — Mount Zion — Street scenes — The Saviour's grave — Adam's grave — Relics — The true cross — The Wandering Jew — Modern tourists — Traditions of the East — Beggars — The Golden attle of Shipka Pass — Fighting on the Lorn — Storming and capture of Loftcha by the Russians — Capture of Nicsics by the Montenegrins— Siege of Plevna A fierce struggle — Defeat of Mukhtar Pasha before Kars — Second siege of Kars — Its capture by storm--Siege of Erze- roum— Panic at Constantinople— Turkey humbled and dis- heartened by defeat 486 to 502 I N r R o u u c r I o N Wk have given in the accompanying work a brief history of the Ottoman Empire, from the earliest incursion of a liorde of marauding Tartars into Asia Minor down to the present time ; avoiding dry details, yet sufficiently ample to afford the general reader a knowledge of the origin and growth of a power at one time second to none in the luistern Hemisphere ; of the influence which it has exercised upon the politics of luirope ; of its retrogression from a position ot haughty prominence to one of comparative insignifi- cance ; and of the causes which have led to its decline. Having furnished the reader with a summary of the history of the Turks as a nation, we then proceed to de- scribe more diffusely, as being the more entertaining portion of our theme, the fertile and extensive country embraced within the boundaries of the Turkish Empire, which is undoubtedly, both historically and geographi- cally, one of the most important and interesting portions of the earth's surface. Beautifully situated as it is upon the shores of the Mediterranean, upon the highway to the East, the coveted prize of many of the nations of Europe, embracing within its area portions of three con- tinents, and including under its sway the whole of that country known as the " Holy Land," and endeared to all Christians as the location of the wanderings, the battles, the hopes, the fears and trials recorded in Holy Writ, and more especially as the scene of the labors and suf- XII, INTRODUCTION. ;! fcrinrjs of our Savior; with ail tlicsc attractions, there is 110 wonder that this locality has drawn to itself an amount of attention which few t)f the nations of the earth arc able to command. The Turks are a peculiar people ; and the description tion which we have i^iven of their habits and customs, from data obtained by personal contact and intercourse with all classes of the population, from the Sultan in the seraglio down to the liulijarian peasant in his hut and the rovinf^ Koord in the mountain fastnesses, cannot but nrove interesting and instructive both to the student of liistory and the general reader. While this Empire and locality demands from its position and surroundings more than the ordinary share of study and attention, there is probably no other portion of the earth's surface, actually "peopled by a civilized or semi-civilized population, and constituting a recognized member of tlie family of nations, about which so little is known by the masses of the iMiglish speaking peoples, as this land of the Ottomans. Only within a very recent time has travel through the interior been a possibility ; and even now it is attended with a considerable amount of personal danger. The lack of railroads, and even of passable carriage roads, renders locomotion slow and tedious ; while the unsettled condition of the country, the susj)icious character of the i)eopie, and the nomadic and predatory bands of Koords and outlaw.s, suffice to keep the luckless traveler in a constant state of doubt and watchfulness ; and are anything but incentives to careful study and observation either of the country and its products, or of the population by which he is sur- rounded. A thousand travelers might be summarily disposed of in this unfortunate land without anyone being the wiser of it or any inquiries being instituted. INTRODUCTION. XIH. Under such circumstances only the coolest jud^^nnent and steadiest nerves will carry the explorer safely throu^di. There is no occasion for wonder therefore, however much there may be for rei^ret, that this country is buried in so much darkness. It is fervently to be prayed that, as the result of her last stru^^'^le with Russia and the demand of other lun'opean powers, ai: imi)rovement in her insti- tutions may be effected, and that tliis beniL^hted land may behold the dawn of light. It is our earnest hope that this volume mavshed some lipht on a hitherto dark sub- ject, and that the reader may fuul instruction and enter- tainment in studyini:;-, in the safety of liis own fireside in a Christian land, the wa\s lUid customs of this strange and fanatical people. 'i'hc rapid progress and still more r.ipid decline of the Ottoman power, are -amongst the most inl cresting l)henomena in the history of I^urope. Under Solyman 1.. surnamed the Magnificent, the most accomplishcil f)f all the Ottoman princes, when the Turkish iMupire was in the iieight of its glory and power, it rankeil among the foremost nations of the earth, and perhajjs had its turn as ///t' most powerful emigre in the world. Only a few years later it commenced to decline, and so rapidly did this waning process take place that it seemed like a star jjlucked from its place in heaven and cast headlong into the abyss below. The Turks have undoubtedly degenerated both in their civil and military institutions ; but their present weakness is to be ascribed more to a lack of ability oi- endeavor to keep pace with the advancing i)rogress of the world than to a positive decline. Haughty and illit- er.ite, they liave experienced all the fatal consequences t)f ignorance without suspecting its cause. Other causes have had their influence in effcctinu" i\ . i XIV. INTRODUCTION. the downfall of Turkish supremacy. The deposition of the rulers ; the rapacious greed, the extortion and cruelty of the tax gatherers ; the growing effeminac;. of the sultans, who, from the warlike vigor and devotion of the ancient leaders, have sunk into a slothful luxury ; the licentiousness and impatience of discipline of the soldiery ; the jealousies and wranglings of differeiii orders of officials ; all these have had a potent influence for evil in Turkish affairs. The very growth of the em- pire, the vast extension of the domain, multiplying as it did the enemies, not the upholders, of the state, was also an element of destruction. Lastly, but not leastly, the Mahometan religion, upon whose principles and dogmas the Turkish Government is founded, and which consti- tute its unalterable law, contains within itself no princi- ple of improvement, and seems incapable of being ac- commodated to any practical system of reform. It prevents, by its inflexible precepts, any attempt at reor- ganization or improvement in discipline. The reformer encounters at the very outset a multi- tude of deep-rooted religious prejudices, and is greeted by the great body of the people with an almost inexpli- cable hatred, as one who is endeavoring with impious hands to subvert principles established by the Koran and hallowed by ancient usage. Nothing short of a complete revolution, which shall suffice to remove the whole constitution, and perhaps also the very religion of the empire, will ever raise this unfortunate land to th^ level of other European powers, and rejjenerate it to a new and more enlightened and prosperous existence. If the Turks prove eventually to be incapable of rising to this height and grandeur of intelligence and civiliza- tion, then nothing remains to look to or hope for but foreign intervention, and the utter crushing out by mili- INTRODUCTION. XV. tary force, at once and forever, of the Turkish name and the TiirKish power from amonj^st the nations of Europe. It now seems as if the final hour of her trial has ar- rived. In recent events the world has not only .seen the Ottoman Empire suffer severely from internal convul- sions, but beheld her once a^ain involved in a gij^antic strugi^le with a great and mighty opponent. Agaiii it has witnessed vast armies on either side marshalled for the fray, and contending with each other in deadly strife. The events of the Crimean War have been in a measure re-enacted, and all Euro[)c is watching for results with strained eyes and trembling uncertainty. An accident, a single mismove, may involve the entire Continent in a promiscuous end desolating war. The importance of the issue, the magnitude of the interests involved, the strate- gical and historical renown which attaches to the coun- try which has become the theatre of war, the vastness of the contending forces, all these combine to render the question one of surpassing interest ; and we cannot doubt that a work giving authentic information on the subject, and a truthful description of the countries and people involved, will be heartily welcomed and gratefully re- ceived by the reading and thinking public. The Author. i(! il'l i i FORI I I 1 C A J' IONS OK k U S I S C H U K. A N' I) (.'. I U R G E V A . By courtesy of " Tlw Tchi^ram.''' THE OTTOMAN EMPIRE, CHAPTER I. ORIGIN' OF THK TURKS. The vanity of nations, like that of families, inclines them to lay claim to a hi^^h anti([uity. From this weak- ness of the human mind the Turkish people and their historians cannot claim to be entirely free. They endeavor to trace their nationality back to chiefs and conquerors reputed to have existed a thousand years before the birth of Christ, and to warlike tribes who occupied the central country of Asia and battled with and stemmed the western march of the hordes of China. Of this period of their existence, however, if existence they then had as a distinct people, there exists no authentic record. It is long anterior to the time when reliable history commences of that portion of the globe. There is, to be sure, no reasonable doubt that, at that stage of the world's existence, the plateaus of Central Asia were occupied by savage and warlike tribes, nomadic in habits, quarrelsome in disposition, and pred- atory in their manner of life. But that these tribes were settled and populous enough, or sufficiently homo- geneous to constitute a nation from which to trace a gene- alogy is exceedingly improbable. The more reasonable supposition is that, at that early date, the region refer- red to was but very scant-ly peopled, the tribes at con- .stant enmity with each otiier and migrating from place to place at the mercy of the varying fortunes of war ; and that anything approaching to .settlement or civiliza- tion was the result of a later experience and commenced at a much later date in the world's chronology. The earliest authentic history of the Turks does not date back further than the .seventh century of the Christian I 22 THE SARACENS. era. At about this period, having become somewhat numerous, they began to direct their course westward, and gradually spread over the plains of Turkestan and the territory between the Black and Caspian Seas, and came into contact with the then powerful Arabs or Saracens with whom they soon entered into alliance and friendly relations. Being found superior in all the soldierly qualities to the Arab.s, the armies of the Saracen caliphs came gradually to be composed almost entirely of them. At this date also they were largely employed by the emperor Heraclius to recruit his armies, and it was by their instrumentality that he undertook and successfully carried out the conquest of Persia, then at the very height of its power, and whose hitherto victorious arms had extended the Persian boun- daries to their widest extent (A.D. 628). By this dis- aster the defeated nation lost all its conquests and its power, and became a prey to the wrangling of petty chiefs and to the repeated conquests of the Turk and the Arab, a condition from which it has never recovered. While the superior military qualities of the Turks, enabled them gradually to wrest the political power from the Arabs, the latter were able, by their greater devotion to religion, to exercise a no less potent influence (though of a different nature) over the Turks. The Saracens at this date had thoroughly and devotedly espoused the Mahometan religion, which had been divulged by their prophet and leader, Mahomet or Mohammed. This celebrated chieftain was born at Mecca, in Arabia, in the year A.D. 569. He belonged to an Arabian tribe called Koraish, and his family possessed the hereditary right to the custody of the Caaba, or one of the places of worship, under their previous idolatrous system, at Mecca. They had, however, fallen into reduced circum- stances; and Mahomet was trained for a life of traffic and merchandise. Marrying a rich widow, whose confi- dence and affections he had won by the faithful discharge of his duties as her factor, he greatly improved his con- dition. His education, however, was scanty, which proved a considerable impediment to his ambition. But Ii 1 MAHOMET, THE PROPHET. 23 lis iry ;-i ces ■1 at m- ffic w ifi- •ge )n- ch lut he had great natural capacities of mind, great genius, wonderful eloquence, unquestioned bravery, and an indomitable will. He was personally present at nine battles and sieges, and in twelve years undertook with his army upwards of fifty successful enterprises. His claims as a prophet and ruler were at first rejected at Mecca, and he himself was forced to fiy to Medina for safety ; and it is from this flight, called the Hegira, that all Mahometans date their annals. He afterwards captured Mecca and the greater part of the strongholds of Arabia, and in the prime of his life was able to boast that all Arabia had submitted to his government and espoused his religion. He raised the power of his nation to a high pitch, and was universally recognized by his countrymen as a prophet and a prince. He died in the sixty-third year of his age, retaining his mental and bodily vigor to the last (A.D. 632). Full of the fire and zeal of a new religion, the Arabians, under the suc- cessors of Mahomet, undertook campaigns against all the neighboring nations, in which they were largely assisted by the Turks. They conquered Persia and Greece. Antioch, Damascus, and Syria succumbed to their prowess. They penetrated into Palestine and cap- tured Jerusalem. They routed the Medesand Africans, and also annexed Egypt, Cyprus, Rhodes, Condia, Sicily, Malta, and other islands. Such was the prowess of the Arabian zealots and their Turkish allies. We pause here to give .some account of the religion of Mahomet, as embodied in the Koran. The state of the world at that time was highly favorable to the introduction of a new religion ; it had been the will of Heaven to permit the purity and sim- plicity of the doctrines of Christ to be contaminated and perverted by the artful wiles of priest-craft, which caused the grossest impositions to be practiced upon the ignor- ant laity ; pomp, splendor, an unintelligible worship, were substituted for the devotion of the heart, whilst the prayers offered up to imaginary and fictitious saints had effaced all just notions of the attributes of the Deity. Mahomet had made two journeys into Syria, where i'l", ' 24 THK MAHOMETAN CREED. t: :( he had informed himself of the principles of Judaisnir and the jargon which bore the name of Christianity : it is probable, indeed, that his mind was naturally prone to relit;ious enthusiasm, and that he was a devotee before he became an impostor. His first design seems to have extended no farther than to bring the wild, intractable, and ardent Arabs to acknowledge one God and one king ; and it is probable that for a considerable time his ambition extended no farther than to become the spiritual and temporal sovereign of Arabia. He began his eventful project by accusing both Jews and Christians of corrupting the revelations which had been made to them from heaven, and maintained that both Moses and Jesus Christ had prophetically foretold the coming of a prophet from God, which was accomplished in himself, the last and greatest of the prophets ; thus initiated he proceeded to deliver detached sentences, as he pretended to receive them from the Almighty, by the hand of the angel Gabriel. These pretensions to a divine mi.ssion drew on him a requisition from the inhabitants of ]\:ecca that he would convince them by working a miracle ; but he replied, "God refuses those signs and wonders that would depreciate the merit of faith, and aggravate the guilt of infidelity." The unity of God was the grand and leading article in the creed he taught, to which was clo.sely joined his own divine mission ; Allah il allah, Mnliamed resoiil Allah, is their preface to every act of devotion, and the sentence continually in their mouths: which is, "there is but one God, and Mahomet is his prophet." The Arabian tribes, who occupied the country from Mecca to the Juiphrates, were at that time known by the name of Saracens ; their religion was chiefly gross idolatry, Sabianism having spread almost over the whole nation, though there were likewise great numbers of Christians, Jews and Magians interspersed in those parts. The essence of their worship principally consisted in adoring the planets and fixed stars : angels and images they honored as inferior deities, whose interces- sions with the almighty in their favor they implored : THE MAHOMETAN CREED. ^5 they believed in one God ; in the future punishment of the wicked for a long series of years, though not for ever; and constantly prayed three times a da/; namely, at sunrise, at its declination, and at sunset ; tbey fasted three times a year, during thirty days, nine days and seven days ; they offered many sacrifices, but ate no part of them, the whole being burnt ; they likewise turned their faces, when praying, to a particular part of the horizon ; they performed pilgrimages to the city of Harran in Mesopotamia, and had a great respect for the temple of Mecca and the pyramids of JCgypt, imagining the latter to be the sepulchres of Seth. also of ICnos and Sabi, his two sons, whom they considered as the founders of their religion. Besides the book of .'\salms, they had other books, which they esteemed equally sacred, parti- cularly one, in the Chaldec tongue, which they called " the book of Seth." They have been called " Chris- tians of St. John the Baptist," whose disciples also they pretend to be, using a kind of baptism, which is the greatest mark they bear of Christianity : circumcision was practised by the Arabs, although Sale is silent on that practice, when describing the religion of the Sabi- ans ; they likewise abstained from swine's flesh. So that in this sect we may trace the essential articles of the creed of Mussulmans. Mahomet was in the fortieth year of his age when he assumed the character of a prophet. He had been accustomed for several years, during the month of Rama- dan, to withdraw from the world, and to secrete himself in a cave three miles distant from Mecca. *' Conversa- tion," says Mr. Gibbon, " enriches the understanding, but solitude is the school of genius." During the first three years he made only fourteen proselytes, among which were his wife Khadijah ; his servant, or rather slave, Zeid Ali, who afterwards married the prophet's favorite daughter, Fatima, and was surnamed " the lion of God ;" Abubeker, a man distinguished for his merit and his wealth ; the rest consisted of respectable citizens of Mecca. The Koreishites, although the tribe to which he belonged, were the most violent h i; i !' f ■; 1 f I! '\ : 1 26 THE MAHOMETAN CREED. opposers of the new religion. In the tenth year of his prophetic office, his wife died ; and the next year his enemies formed a design to cut him off. Being season- ably apprised, he fled by night to Medina, on the i6th of July, 622, from which event the Hegira commenced ; he was accompanied only by two or three followers, but he made a public entry into that city, and soon gained many proselytes, on which he assumed the regal and sacerdotal characters. As he increased in power, that moderation and humility, which had before distinguished his conduct, were gradually erased, and he became fierce and sanguinary ; he began to avow a design of propa- gating his religion by the sword, to destroy the monu- ments of idolatry, and, without regarding the sanctity of days or months, to pursue the unbelieving nations of the earth. The Koran inculcates, in the most absolute sense, the tenets of faith and predestination. The first companions of Mahomet advanced to battle with a fear- less confidence, their leader having fully possessed their minds with the assurance that paradise awaited those who died fighting for the cause of their prophet, the gratifications of which were held out to be such as best suited the amorous complexions of the Arabians : black- eyed Houries, resplendent in beauty, blooming youth, and virgin purity ; every moment of pleasure was there to be prolonged to a thousand years, and the powers of the man were to be increased a hundredfold to render him capable of such felicity ; to those who survived, rich spoils and the possession of their female captives were to crown their conquests. Of the chapters of the Koran, which are one hun- dred and fourteen in number, ninety-four were ."eceived .It Mecca and twenty at Medina. The order in which they stand does not point out the time when they were written, for the seventy-fourth chapter is supposed to have been the first revealed, and the sixty-eighth to have immediately followed it. The most marked feature of this religion is its strict assertion of the Unity of God. A general resurrection of the dead is another article of belief reiterated in the THE MAHOMETAN CREED, V Koran. The pilgrimage to Mecca, praying toward that place, and the ablutions which are enjoined on the most ordinary acts and occasions, together with the adoption of that religious sophism, predestination, in its most extravagant extent, seem to comprehend the supersti- tious parts of this religion ; but it has other characteris- tics which betray its spurious origin, and prove its destructive tendency. Besides the Koran, which is the written law to the Mahometans, alike as to the belief and practice of religion and the administration of public justice, there is the Sunnah, or oral law, which was selected, two hundred years after the death of Mahomet, from a vast number of precepts and injunctions which had been handed down from age to age, as bearing the stamp of his authority. In this work the rite of circumcision is enjoined, concerning which the Koran was silent ; nor was it necessary to be there commanded, as the Arabians adhered to it before the establishment of Mahometanism. Their children are not ci«"cumcised, like those of the Jews, at eight days old, but at eleven or twelve, and sometimes at fourteen and fifteen years of age, when they arc able to make a profession of their faith. When any renegade Christian is circumcised, two basins are usually carried after him, to gather the alms which the spectators freely give. Those who are uncircumcised, whether Turkish children or Christians, are not allowed to be present at their public prayers; and if they aie taken in their mosques they are liable to be impaled or burnt. The fast of Ramedan and the feasts of the Great and the Little Bairam are strictly observed by the Turks as by other Mahometans ; but a full account of these will be given when describing the habits and customs of the people. They regularly pray three times a day, and are obliged to wash before their prayers, as well as before they presume to touch the Koran. As they make great use of their fingers in eating, they are required to wash 28 THE MAHOMETAN CREED. t 1 after every meal, and the more cleanly among them do it before meals. After every kind of defilement, in fact, ablution is enjoined. WASHING HANDS. By the Mahometan law a man may divorce his wife twice, and if he afterwards repents, he may lawfully take her again ; but Mahomet, to prevent his followers from divorcing their wives upon every slight occasion, or merely from an inconstant humor, ordained that if any man divorces his wife a third time, it is not lawful for him to take her again until she has been married and bedded by another, and divorced from that hus- band. The Koran allows no man to have more than four wives and concubines, but the prophet and his successors are laici under no restriction. Church government, by the institutions of Mahomet, appears to have centred in the mufti, and the order of moulahs, from which the mufti must be chosen. The moulahs have been looked upon as ecclesiastics, and the mufti as their head ; but the Turks consider the first rather as expounders of the law, and the latter as the great law officer. Those who really act as divines are the imaums, or parish priests, who officiate in, and are set aside for, the service of the mosques. No church reve- nues are appropriated to the particular use of the mou- THE MAHOMETAN CREED. 29 lahs ; the imaums are the ecclesiastics in immediate pay. Their scheiks are the chiefs of their dervises or monks, and form religious communities, or orders, established on solemn vows ; they consecrate themselves merely to religious office, domestic devotion, and public prayers and preaching ; there are four of these orders, the Bektoshi, Mevelevi, Kadri, and Scyah, who arc very numerous throughout the empire. The monks of the first of those orders arc allowed to marry, but are obliged to travel through th^^ empire. The Mevelevi, in their acts of devotion, turn round with velocity for two or three hours incessantly. The Kadri express their devotion by lacerating their bodies ; they walk the streets almost naked, with distracted and wild looks. The Scyahs, like the Indian fakirs, are little better than mere vagabonds. The Turks appropriate to themselves the name of Moslemim, which has been corrupted into Mu.ssulman, signifying persons professing the doctrine of Mahomet. They also term themselves Sonnites, or observers of the oral traditions of Mahomet and his three successors ; and likewise call themselves true believers, in opposition to th< Persians and others, the adherents of Ali, whom they ^ ill a wicked and abominable sect. Their rule of faith and practice is the Koran. Some externals of their religion, besides the prescribed ablutions, are prayers, which are to be said five times every twenty-four hours, with the face turned towards Mecca ; and alms, which are both enjoined and voluntary : the former consists of paying two and a half per cent, to charitable uses out of their whole incomes. Their feasts will hereafter be spoken of. Every Mahometan must, at least once in his lifetime, go in pilgrimage, either personally or by proxy, to the Caaba, or house of God at Mecca. This religion was gradually espoused by the Turks and has been adhered to b)' them through all their vicissitudes with intolerent pertinacity. There can be no doubt also that the intimate contact with their Arabian allies exercised in some degree an enlighten- ing and civilizing influence upon the Turks who now 30 OTHMAN, THE GREAT. Ill' became less nomadic in their habits and less quarrel- some amongst themselves. They settled in Persia and became powerful under the caliphs of Bagdad, gradu- ally acquiring the temporal supremacy. Salur, one of the first converted chiefs, called his tribe Turk-imams, or Turks of the faith, to denote their devotion to Islaiji- ism. They soon took possession of Khorasan, one of the provinces of Persia, and made Nishapore its capital, a place still in existence, though unimportant. Vigor- ous and able rulers succeeded, and by gradual reinforce- ment of other tribes from Tartary, were enabled to make conquests of neighboring territories. Genghis- Khan, an able chieftain, about the b';;ginning of the 13th century, made himself master of nearly all Persia and the country around the Caspian Sea ; Shah Soliman, Prince of Nera, pushed westward as far as Syria and made conquests in Asia Minor. Othman, his grand- son, marched still further west and wrested territory from Greece ; and in the year A.D. 1 300, he first assumed the title of P>mperor of the Othmans, or as it is corrupt- ed, Ottomans ; and is recognized as the first of their emperors. It is a tiadition universally believed by the Turks that Othman had a dream of future greatness under the guise of a tree which seemed to spring from his own person and spread until it covered the three continents of Asia, Europe and Africa. The crescent seemed to be everywhere in the ascendant, and a glittering sabre pointed to Constantinople. His ambition was bound- less and the opportunity was favorable. The Greek Empire v/as tottering to its fall to the westward, while from the east he could draw reinforcements from count- less hordes. lie pushed forward in Asia Minor and captured Prusa, now Bursa, which he made his capital, routing the Kings of Bithynia. In this city, jne of the early strongholds of Christianity, he introduced Mahometan ism. His reign lasted for 26 years and gave an immense impetus to Turkish power and pro- gress ; for while only a few of the tribes acknowledged his sway, yet his valor and conquests tended greatly to ADVANCE INTO EUROPK. 31 unite the scattered bands into one nation and to lay the foundations of the Turkish Empire. He was succeeded at his death by his son, Orchan, in 1326. This ruler has the honor of bein^ the first to set foot upon Euror:;an soil. He crossed the Hellespont and established himself in Callipolis, an important post and key of the Hellespont, and also in Tyrilos in 1354. He divided the domain into provinces, and appointed a Governor for each under the title of Pasha, which literal- ly means foot of the Shah. The distinctive official sym- bol of the Pashas was a horse's tail ; the number of tails denotinj^ their relative importance. The army also, in his reign, was reorganized and formed into companies and corps with regular officers ; a task of no ^an dimensions when the equality of their previous pa.-.i.oral life and their intractable disposition is considered. The army was further recruited by captives taken in war nnd by the children of Christian subjects. A corps of janis- saries or body-guard troops was established, into which the children of the soldiers them.selves were admitted, and thus it became a sort of military caste ; and this body of troops is the first example in modern history of a regular standing army. Despotic rule now took the place of th'i former patriarchal form, but the well train- ed and disciplined forces of the Turks now become almost irresistible in their march westward. Again.st them were pitted the forces of Europe, composed for the most part of the worst and weakest material for an army, the serfs- and the nobles. Orchan died in 1359 ^^^ ^^'•^^ succeeded by Amaruth I., who continued the conquests of his father and cap- tured Adrianople and Philippopolis, took pos.scssion of Sei-via and invaded Macedonia and Albania. Adrian- ople, founded by the Roman Emperor Hadrian, became their first P2uropean capital and remained such for a century, and even afterwards ^ivided the honor with Constantinople. It now contams some of the largest of their mosques. Amaruth continued to push west- ward and northward in Europe, which caused such alarm to the Hungarians, the Servians, the Bosnians I I ! il i; .32 DEFEAT OF THE HUNGAKIANS. ; i 11) il 11 It ; I i:i i and Wallachians, that they banded to resist his onward •march ; but their forces were completely routed in a pitched battle with the Turks at the Balkan Mountains, and Servia was added to the dominions of the con- querors. Amaruth I. was stabbed by one of the captive chiefs and was succeeded by his son, Bajazet I., in 1389, who iirst took the title of Sultan. This ruler saw the impor- tance of the control of the Picllespont and strongly fortified Adrianople and formed a large fleet of galleys. He thus cut off all supplies for Constantinople. His reign was a brief one of thirteen years, but was a con- stant march of triumphs. He defeated Sigismund of Hungary, and his German and French allies, on the Danube, with terrible slaughter. Ten thousand prison- ers were put to death. The Turks had pushed out to the borders of Germany. But the incursion of a power- vful horde of Mongols into Asia Minor called Amarauth in that direction and he suffered a great defeat at the hands of Timour or Tamerlane, their leader, and lost his life. Mohammed I. succeeded to the throne in 1413, but his reign accomplished nothing of special note. Amaruth H. followed in 1421 and captured Saloniki from the Venetians and converted the churches into mosques. He renewed the war against the Hungarians and defeated Huniades, the self-styled champion of Christianity. The Greek rulers became alarmed for Constantinople. A strong alliance was formed between the Greek and Roman Churches and Hungary against the Turk. They united their armies to resist the com- mon '.enemy, but were signally defeated at Varna in 1444. Again the Hungarians rallied in 1448 and again they were routed at Kassova by the furious enemy. From this time the Christian power succumbed to the South of the Danube ^and the Mohammedans were supreme. Amaruth H. died in 145 1, and was succeeded by Mahomet H. This youth inherited the ambition of his father, and his craftiness also. He cau.sed his younger m'Turp: of constantinopm:. 33 brothers to be murdered to make himself supreme. He then directed his attention to the overthrow of the Grecian Empire, and was successful, and finally captured Constantinople, May 29th, 1453, with one hundred thou- sand troops ; employini^f both ancient and modern artil- lery in the siege, which lasted some fifty days. The captive Greeks were made slaves, and the property was seized by the victors. But later a proclamation of amnesty to the Greeks was made, and they continued to reside in the city with the captors; and, indeed, filled high offices in the service of the Sultan. They have ever since been, next to the Turks, the most numerous portion of the population. Mahomet, with large armies, added Epirus and Albania to the Turkish dominions. He subdued the Crimea and captured Negropont, and alsd Trebizond, the last vestige of the Greek Empire ; and Servia became a province. In 1456 he laid siege to Jk'lgrade, but with only partial success ; and the same may be said of his seige of Rhodes, which he did not. however, conduct in person. He crossed the Adriatic and captu.i'd Otranto, throwing all Italy into dismay. The Pope in vain called upon tlie nations to ally them- selves against the victorious Turks. His victories were ended by his death, in 148 1. The form of government of the Turkish Empire was elaborated in his reign ; viziers, or ministers of state, were appointed, four in number, of v.'hom the chief was called the grand vizier ; kadiaskers, or generals of the army, became cabinet ministers ; as also defterdars, or finance ministers, and nishandshis, or secretaries of .state. These constituted, with the Sultan, the Court. He also instituted the body of the Ulema, or learned, including ministers of law and religion, professors and jurists; whose duty it was to teach the law out of the Koran, which governed both religion and jurisprudence ; and these officers were paid by the state. The chief of these is the Mufti, who represents the Sultan in a spiritual capacity. But none of them can effect any change in the organic law, which is unalterably determined by the Koran. This body, as is the case too often with religious bodies having. !;iv 34 DEFEAT OF THE PERSIANS. f political power, has generally proved obstructive, and retarded and opposed all progress or reform. Bajazet II. succeeded to the throne in 1481. He was less warlike than his father, and merely maintained the territories which his predecessors had annexed. He was much troubled by internal dis.sensions and by his brother's rebellion. Con.stantinople was, in this reign, extensively damaged by earthquakes, which laid in ruins a considerable portion of the city. Russia, in 1492, sent her first amba.ssador to the Ottoman Court. In 1512, Selim I., by the aid of the Janissaries, com- pelled his father to abdicate, and it is said murdered him, and succeeded to the sway of empire. He was of a more warlike nature than his father, and again excit- ing the martial spirit of his people, he drove the Persians back to the Euphrates and Tigris. He de- feated the Marmelukes, and conquered, in 15 17, Kj^ypt. Syria and Palestine, and annexed these countries to his domain. The Persians, though equally venerating the Koran, were of a different sect and often bitterly hostile to the Turkish Mahometans. The I^ersian campaign was, therefore, partly for territory and partly fanatical. The Persians were thoroughly routed, the more readily as they were unacquainted with artillery. The slaughter of enemies and captives in these wars was terrible. Selim was now the supreme head of Islam, or the church, and commander of the faithful. He enlarged the navy, and built store arsenals for its use. Several hundred thou- sand Jews, expelled from Spain fled to Turkey in this reign, and received its protection. At Bajazet's death, in 1520, Soliman I., the law- giver, succeeded him, and in his long reign of forty-six years, the empire reached the height of its glory and power and the greatest expansion of its territory. Turkish superstition marked this ruler as a powerful and successful monarch, and the expectation seemed to be fulfilled. He selected Belgrade and Rhodes, the only two points which had succeeded in foiling Turkish ambition, as the object of his attack. The former, though one of the strongest fortresses in Europe, suc- -f! -1 ■ 35 SIEGE OF VIENNA. cumbed, and the garrison was slauglUered. Rhodes, the stronghold of the western nations in the Mediterra- nean and the key to the Dardanelles, Asia Minor, Svria, and Egypt, soon after surrendered. It added n-reatly to Turkish power and prestige. The mastery of the Bosphorous placed all commerce on the Black Sea in the hands of the Turks. It gave them, also, the control of the traffic with China and the Indies, which then came to the Caspian and Black Seas. Soliman restricted all commerce on these seas to Turkish sub- jects; but a new route had by this time been found by way of Cape Horn. He appointed Barbarossa, a pirate, high admiral ; and under his command the navy rav- aged the shores of Italy, Spain, and other countries, and captured Algiers, Tunis, and Tripoli, but failed at Malta. In 1525 the first French Ambassador was received at the Ottoman Court. He was despatched to secure the assistance of Turkey against Austria. An alliance was formed and Soliman marched his forces across the Danube. His march was one continued triumph. Hun- gary was completely defeated and impoverished, and Au.stria became the object of attack. The huge Turkish army, burning and destroying all before it, reached Vienna on the 27th September, 1529. They had 400 pieces of artillery with them. They invested the city and made many breaches in the walls, liut lack of pro- visions compelled them to fall back. The result of this campaign was the annexation of the greater part of Hungary to the Turkish dominions. A treaty of peace was concluded with Austria. Another Persian cam- paign was planned and successfully carried out, all the leading places falling into the hands of the invaders. Treaties of commerce were for the first time entered into with foreign nations by the Sultaa Soliman. In 1 566 he once more led a force, larger than ever before, across the Danube, and captured Szigcth, a fortified city. But sudden death put an end to the campaigns and ambitious projects of one of the ablest of Turkish rulers. Soliman, in the midst of all his campaigns, i'- i III I ! • ' I!'- 36 THE ZENITH OF POWER. i W' .!i J I ! ! ! found time to beautify his capital, and many extensive buildings were erected in his reign. Education aisa was fostered, and his a ;e is accounted one of the most brilliant in Turkish literature. He fortified the Darda- nelles, rebuilt the walls of Jerusalem and erected 'several beautiful mosques. Sclim II. succeeded him in 1566. A treaty of peace was now made with Austria, which left the greater part of Hungary in Turkish possession, and by which Austria paid tribute for the remainder. In 1570 conquests were made in Arabia, and Cj'prus was wrested from the Venetians. A large Turkish fleet was destroyed by the combmed Spanish and V^enetian navies, in 1572, at Le- panto. But the loss was rapidly repaired, and two years later Tunis was captured from Spain. The Turkish Empire was now at the very height of its glory and power ; a terror to all the nations of Europe and tlie undisputed master of the east. A succession of valiant and able Sultans had built up a nation second to none of that age, all powerful by land,, and masters of the Mediterranean, Black, and Caspian Seas. Their dominions included all Asia Minor, Armenia, Georgia, Mesopotamia, Syria, Cyprus, Daghistan, Kur- dist n, and most of Arabia, in Asia ; in Africa, I'^gypt, Tuni.s, Algiers and Tripoli ; and in Europe, Turkey, as at present bounded, Greece, and most of Hungary ; also the Crimea, Wallachia, Transylvania, Moldavia, and Ragusa, as dependencies. They occupied a favorable- location, with unsurpassed climate, and a capital com- manding access to three continents and controlling three seas. But from this time their power commenced to wane. Feeble rulers succeeded ; domestic dissensions weakened their power for foreign aggression ; selfish, rapacious, and conspiring subordinates curtailed the hitherto- supreme power of the Sultans ; and an insubordinate army thwarted their plans and often held them in actual subjection. The people sank into effeminacy, ignorance and slavery ; and while other portions of Europe were making rapid strides in the arts of peace and war, the PRIDE AND DISASTERS OF THE TURKS. 37 Ottoman government remained stationary and inactive. Pride and conceit characterized all their dealings with foreign-nations. Revolts of janissaries and pachas be- came numerous and dangerous. Murders and assassi- nations were frequent, and this means was habitually- resorted to for removing a hated sultan or governor. Amaruth III., a weak ruler, succeeded to the throne in 1574. During twenty-one years of his sway the only event of note was a purposeless war with Persia. PVom 1595 to 1603, Mahomet III. ruled without the occur- rence of any remarkable event. The reign of Achmet I., from 1603 to 1617 was marked with reverses. The Persians, always anxious to recuperate their fallen for- tunes, with a reorganized army and the assistance of artillery, defeated the Turkish army in 1605, and recov- ered many of their provinces. The Turks were also unsucces.~ful in Hungary; Austria ceased to pay tribute, and the ruler of that country was for the first time recognized as an equal by the Turkish sultan. Mustapha I. reigned but one year, a.id was followed, in 161 8, by Othman II., who. however, was soon deposed and assassinated by the janissaries. In 1622 Amaruth IV. succeeded in his minority. Disasters followed thick and fast. Bagdad was taken by the Persians ; the Black sea towns were pillaged by Cossacks, and the Crimea revolted, The Turks, aware that an effort must be made to stay these disasters, marched into Persia, and after great atrocities recovered Bagdad, and put the garrison to the sword. Amaruth died in 1640, and was succeeded by Ibrihim I., who was assassinataa in 1648, and followed by Mahomet IV.. a child, under his grand- mother's guardianship. Great confusion followed. Bands of outlaws plundered the villages, and pirates scoured the seas. Grand viziers succeeded each other and were in turn deposed in rapid succession, until Ahmed Kiu- prili, more vigorous than the rest, restored partial tran- quility. Trouble breaking out in Candia, he subdued the island, and also the city, after a siege of nearly three years, in 1669. A war with Poland followed, in which the Turks were defeated by the famous John Sobieski. m f lb 38 SIEGE OF VIENNA. H I? ,1 ft Kiuprili was an able statesman and patron of literature, and held the grand vizicrship for seventeen years. Under him the office of drajroman was instituted for the purpose of translating foreign state papers ; the Turks being forbidden by Mahometan law from learning any infidel language, the office was generally filled by Greeks, and subsequently came to be held in high estimation as a cabinet office. In the year 1682 war again broke out with Austria and the second siege of Vienna occurred in July 1683. The besieging army was immense, while the garrison numbered only 20,000 men, and suffered from the scanty supply of provisions. P^ierce attacks were made by the Turks in their determination to carry the place by storm at any loss of life, and the walls were breached and blown up by mines in many places. Still the garri- son held out awaiting the arrival of promised reinforce- ments. The attacks were incessant and the loss of life on both sides was great. The Turks were famous for conducting sieges, and used artillery, hot shot, and all, the improved appliances. Their cavalry, meanwhile, scoured the surrounding country and scattered desola- tion in their train. So fierce was the attack that Turkish standards were actually planted on the ram- parts and the garrison was about to surrender. At this moment the Polish army, allied to the Austrians, arrived upon the field under the commanc of Sobie.ski, and im- mediately made a furious assault. The Turks were routed and fled, abandoning artillery, baggage and wounded. This battle revealed the weakness of the Turks when opposed by brave and disciplined troops. It relieved western Europe of a load of anxiety, and was the last occasion on which the Turks appeared for- mfdable in Central Europe. They suffered several defeats while retreating, and as a result of this disas- trous campaign, lost most of Hungary and the Morca. The Sultan, Mohammed IV., was depo.sed in 1687, and succeeded in turn by Soliman II., who only reigned the brief term of four years; Achmet II., four years; and Mustapha II., eight years. These reigns were INTRODUCTION OF THE PRINTING PRESS. 39 remarkable foi- nothing but loss of territory and gradual decline of power and importance. Russia was now rising into prominence as a military nation under Peter 1., who much improved the discipline of his forces, and established a flotilla upon the rivers and seas. In 1695 he declared war with Turkey, and captured Azoff, a strong position at the mouth of the Don. In a war with Austria, the Turks were defeated by Eugene, at Zenta, and lost Transylvania and more of liungary, and were compelled to sue for peace. Achmet III. ascended the throne in 1703, and obtained partial successes over the Russians, who had advanced too far from their base and supplies. But in a war with the German forces the Turks were again worsted and lost the remainder of Hungary, which was annexed to Austria. Further reverses in a campaign against Persia led to the deposition of Achmet, who was held as a state prisoner by the janissaries. This reign is remarkable for the fact that the printing press, which had long been in use in Western P^urope, but of which the introduction into Turkey had been bitterly opposed, was permitted to be used in Constantinople upon all books except the Koran and religious works ; yet so indolent and apathetic were the people that for fifty years only about lorty separate works were issued. The gradual decline of Turkey was largely owing to the feebleness and growing effeminacy of her rulers, and to domestic di.scord and dissensions. The conduct of the armies was now entrusted to court favorites, the Sultans remaining quietly at home, intent upon nothing bu<" pleasure and self-gratification. A degenerate stock had succeeded the early warlike rulers, who always commanded in person and were ever found in the thickest of the fight. Under these weak Sultans the governors of provinces became more and more independent, and less devoted to the interests of the empire. They used their positions for self-enrichment, and public offices were openly sold to the highest bidders. The administration of domestic affairs became corrupt and extortionary, and the dealings 1*1 m 40 LOSS OF THE CRIMEA. r-jiii . 1 •i f I I II with foreign powers grew timid and vacillating. General ignorance, slavishness, and bigotry characterized the masses of the people. Mahmoud I. reigned from 1730 to 1754, and during this time desultory conflicts took place with Russia and Austria without important results to any party, though the Russians won several victories. From 1754 to 1757 Othman III. held a brief term of power. In 1757 Mus- tapha III succeeded him. The Turks allied themselves with l^oland in her war against fvussia in 1768, and in the engagements which followed the successes of Rus- sia, under Romanzow, were complete and decisive. They coiitciuered all the country between the Dnieper and the Danube. They also took possession of the Crimea, by which name was then known, not merely the Peninsula proper, but an indefinite extent of country behind it, and which had long been a dependency of Turkey and a faithful ally in war. A Russian fleet sailed from the Baltic to the Mediterranean, and in a fierce engagement nearly annihilated the Turkish fleet of over thirty vessels, and remained master of the waters adjacent to Turkey. The situation of the latter country had now b'jcomc desperate. Numerous Pachas in Asia declared their independence of the Porte ; and to add to the general discomfiture, an extensive plague raged throughout the empire. Mustapha III died in 1774 and was succeeded by Abdul Hamet I., his brother. The war with Russia still continued, and the Turkish army being badly defeated by the Russians, under Kamenski, the Porte was forced to agree to an ignominious treaty of peace, by which they surrendered to Russia all the territory north of the river Borg, which now became the Turkish boundary. The fortresses in the Crimea were also given up, and to Russia was conceded the right to navigate the Dardanelles and all the adjacent sea.s. The Porte pledged itself to protect its Christian population and to Russia was given considerable control in matters relating to the Greek Church. The independence of the Crimea was recognized for the first time, which dissolved a con- l\ it ,1 TURKEY ALLIES WITH RUSSIA. 41 nection of three hundred years and greatly weakened the Turkish power. Nine years later the whole Crimea was annexed to Russia. In 1787 Turkey again declared war against Russia, and a conflict, chiefly maritime, followed, in which victory uniformly favored the Russians. In 1789 Abdul Hamid died, and left the throne to Selim III., with a ruinous war as a legacy. The Russians, under Suwarrow, crossed the Danube, captured Ismail, and occupied the surrounding country. Driven by repeated disasters, the Turks again sued for peace, and ceded to the Russians all the territory as far as the Dniester River, including many fortified towns and citadels. Urged by defeats and internal disorganization, the Sultan feebly attempted some measures of reform in the army, the administra- tion, and the condition of the peoi)le. These long- delayed improvements were much needed, but were fought at every step by this bigoted and indolent people. He attempted to remodel the army, so as to conform it to the armies of other European countries. He attempted also to improve the condition of the people, and of their cities and towns. Ikit Selim was too weak-minded for the troublous times which were about to follow. Napoleon had invaded Egypt, aiid was carrying all before him ; and, instigated by Russia, Great Britain, and other nations, Turkey declared war against I'Vance, on the ist of September, 179S, and joined the allies. The singular spectacle was now wit- nessed of the joint action of the fleets of Russia and Turkey, which had so lately been pitted against each other in mortal strife. This alliance, however, was too unnatural to last ; and when peace was made with France in 1801, two conflicting parties appeared in Turkey, the one favorable to France, arid the other to Russia. Napoleon compelled Turkey to be friendly by threats of invasion ; and when Russia became aggressive and occupied Moldavia and VVallachia, the old hostility broke out anew, and war was declared with that power in September, 1806. The weakness of the Ottoman Empire was now apparent. Russia made rapid advances 1 • 42 INSURRECTION AT CONSTANTINOPLL. ail iP' and the English fleet forced the passage of the Darda- nelles. The janissaries, rendered furious by the army reforms, which lessened their power and importance, rose in open rebellion, and after considerable civil strife and the capture of many strongholds, dethroned and afterwards assassinated Selim. This act was sanctioned by the Mufti, or high religious dignitary', who declared that by his attempted reforms, contrary to the teachings of the Koran, that ruler had forfeited all right to reign. The disasters which had followed the army rendered the populace impatient and eager for a change. Insurrection had broken out in Arabia also, where the Wahebites, so called from Waheb, their leader, though Mahometans, differed essentially in doctrine from the Turks, and had declared their independence. They captured nearly all the fortified places, and finally Mecca also surrendered in 1803, after a long seige. In the following year Medina also fell into the hands of the revolutionists, and Arabia was for a time lost to the Turkish crown. In this dark hour of his country's history, Mustapha IV. came to the throne in 1807. Nominated by the janissaries, he was completely their tool, and immedi- ately repealed all the reforms of his predecessor. The new army was disbanded and its leaders slain. But the misfortunes continued. The Turkish fleet was entirely destroyed by the Russians at Lemnos, and after this disaster the Pasha Bairaktar, a bold and resolute man, though illiterate, determined to seize the capitol and effect a thorough reform in the military system of the empire. He therefore attacked and defeated the troops of the capitol with his Albanian forces, and -aptured the city. The slaughter in Constantinople during the civil struggle was fearful to contemplate. Each man's hand was raised against his neighbor. Mustapha, to prevent his own deposition, caused the former Sultan, Selin;, to be murdered, and endeavored to assassinate also h..> brother Mahmoud, that he might be the sole surviving descendant of Othman. This purpose, how- ever, was foiled by a slave, who secreted the doomed man in the palace. Mustapha was then deposed in 1808, WAR WITH RUSSIA. 43 inate sole how- Diiied 1808, after only one year's reign, and Mahmoud II. was placed upon the throne. Bairaktar, now grand vizier, endeavored to restore the new army system and organi- zation, but the janissaries, the bitterest foes of progress, and opposed to any change which lessened their privi- leges and importance, rebelled, and the vizier paid the penalty of his temerity with his life. Mahmoud, now I'.ft alone, made peace with England in 1809, but continued with vigor the war with Russia, which power had advanced its army to the passes of the Balkao, and now again put forward the claim to be the protector of all the subjects of the Porte professing the Greek religion. This claim being resisted by Turkey, the Czar proceeded to occupy the Danubian principalities. The outlook was now extremely dark for the Turks. An alliance was formed between France and Russia, by which, amongst other things, the spoliation of Turkey was agreed upon. But this agreement was of short duration, as Napoleon could brook no hampering alliances. But so urgent became the necessity of quelling domestic insurrection, that Mahmoud concluded a treaty of peace with Russia at Bucharest, ceding all those portions of Moldavia and Bessarabia lying beyond the Pruth ; together with the fortresses on the Dnies' :r and at the months of the Danube. Servia, Greece and Egypt were all in rebellion. A treaty with the first named depen- dency in 18 1 5, conceded to the people of that province the administration of their local government, with a prince of their own choosing, but acknowledging the supremacy of Turkey. In Greece the insurrectionists, under the Pasha Ali, a vigorous but brutal man, defied the armies of Turkey for upwards of two years, when they were finally subdued. But the Turks and Greeks could never amalgamate into one nation • the relation of conquerors and conquered could never be forgotten ; and in 1821 the Greek revolution broke out with all its horrors. The most vindictive mc» \::i • .1 V p K>; I m ABDUL.- HAMID II,. SULKAN OF TIJKK-KV^ ^■' "i " 1 ll .■^.i ^■v"^r^: (^J ■ 1 -;''■' 1 1 . , V\ 1 ^•:- 1 • ..4 "^; . .^'1^^ \v>" ALEXAiVOER II, EMPEROR OF RUSSIA, TURKEY IN ASIA. CHAPTER II. ITS B Y - (; O N E G R K A T N E S S . Turkey in Asia includes the region in which the human race was first planted, as well as that which the sons of Noah and their immediate descendants first overspread, when, descending from the majestic heights of Ararat, they directed their steps towards the Meso- potamian plain, and fixed their habitations in the lands watered by the Euphrates and theTigris. It comprehends within its limits the territories that constituted some of the most important states in the ancient world, and includes the sites of many amongst the most famous cities of antiquity. Nineveh and Babylon, Sidon and Tyre, Damascus and Palmyra, Jerusalem and Antioch, Ephesus and Smyrna, fall within its limits; and upon the rocky shores of Phct^nicia or the classic plains of Asia Minor the traveller can scarcely advance a step without being reminded of by-gone greatness, as the crumbling column or the ruined arch cause the historic memories of former ages to crowd upon his mind. Turkey in Asia comprises a large portion of the Asiatic continent — probably not less than 500,000 square miles. This extensive territory forms four great divi- sions — Asia Minor, Syria, portions of Armenia, and the countries on the, Euphrates and Tigris. The firs't- named of them, Asia Minor, (or Anadoli, as the Turks designate it), is a considerable peninsula, lying between the Black and Mediterranean Seas, and forming the westernmost portion of the Asiatic continent. The second, Syria, is a mountain-tract upon the eastern borders of the Mediterranean, backed by an extensive plain which stretches inland to the banks of the < • a 1 1 \ I ^ I |ji||M!l 64 SYRIA. Euphrates. Armenia, a considerable portion of which is«now within the limits of the Russian empire, is a high and rugged mountain-region, occupying an inland position, though nearly approaching the waters of the Caspian and the Euxine upon either hand, and con- taining within its limits the .sources of the principal rivers of Western Asia. The fourth division embraces the ancient Mesopotamia, (now Aljezireh,) situated between the streams of the Euphrates and the Tigris, in the upper and middle portions of their courses; and Babylonia, (the modern Irak-Arabi.) between and ad- jacent to the lower parts of the same rivers. Syria includes Palestine, or the Holy Land — a region which, though of small geographical extent, is of para- mount importance in the history of Turkey ; and it is with some account of Palestine that we propose first to engage the reader's attention. From the land of the ancient Jewish peop'e we shall pass by a natural and easy transition to the neighboring parts of Syria, and thence to the famous localities of the other divisions of Asiatic Turkey. From the earliest ages of authentic history, Judaea has been the object of a curiosity at once ardent and enlightened. Not merely Christians at the time of the early crusades and subsequently, but heathen writers of far more distant ages also, looked with vivid interest upon that portion of the world ; and Palestine and Syria in general, and Jerusalem mora especially, have probably been surveyed with greater attention, and described with greater accuracy and minuteness than any other portions of the ancient world, scarcely ex- cepting even Greece and Rome. ^ Divided as they now are into Tiykish pashalics, or held by comparative handfuls of people who combine the discomfort of the savage with the morals of the bandit, those once populous and wealthy regions are now comparatively depopulatta and positively poor; but, even yet, the aspect of external nature at once corroborates all that we read about their former pros- perity, and protests against the misgovernment which ANCIENT CANAAN OR PALESTInV:. 65 has in great measure caused their present degradation Of the progress of the wars between the tribes of Israel and their neighbors, especially the Syrians, the Holy Scriptures give so full and so graphic an account that a mere paraphrase would be idle, and would, besides, be out of place in these pages. We may repeat, however, that, as the reader casts his eyes over the map of modern Turkey in Asia, he, in fact, surveys the actual sites, though under other names, of all the great ancient empires, and the actual scenes of all the great events which, in the scripture-narratives, so irresistibly appeal to all the nobler feelings of his heart. As we have already mentioned, Palestine, Judaea, or the Holy Land, is the chief point of interest in that portion of western Asia with which our readers are at present concerned. Though nominally distinct from Syria, Palestine is physically a portion of that territory. Upon the map of the eastern shore of the Mediterra- nean, the reader perceives a long strip of country bounded on the east by the celebrated river Jordan, and nowhere exceeding fifty miles in its extremest breadth. This is the ancient Canaan or Palestine, properly so called, from the name of the Philistines, who were expelled thence by the God-protected tribes of Israel. Three of those tribes, however, namely, those of Reuben, Gad, and Manasseh, had territory assigned to them on the eastern side of the Jordan, and thence they extended their conquests and their occupancy by subduing the hostile and idolatrous peoples in their vicinity. For the sake of distinctness, and in consideration of the impracticability of detailing all the numerous chpnges of extent which resulted from the almost perpetual wars in which the Israelites were engaged, we may regard Palestine, ancient and proper, as being bordered on the north-west by the territory of Tyre and Sidon, by the mountain-chains of Libanus and Anti-Libanus on the north-east and north, by the Syrian and Arabian deserts on the east and south, and by the Mediterranran — the "Great Sea" of Scripture — on the west. These limits its w 1% %$■ : ■-'. 'i ■?' ',;( M m ■i S^' 11 . 1 11 I I I- 66 F^ERTILITY OF THE HOLY LAND. I! '( comprise a territory measuring about a hundred and eighty miles in the direction of north and south, and (including the country beyond Jordan) of between seventy and eighty miles in that of east and west. The superficial area contained within them is probably rather less than fifteen thousand square miles — about rouble the area of Wales. Limited as this territory was, it is quite certain that its fertility was so great, so actually marvellous, that it supported, not merely in comfort but in great opulence, a population infinitely more numerous than any other territory of like extent ever supported either in ancient or in modern times. Even in the time of Moses the fighting men numbered above half a million, and when we add to these the individuals so numerous in Israel, who were devoted to the services of the altar, besides the women, the young people, and the old and super- annuated, we shall not exaggerate in stating the popula- tion of Israel at even that early day as far nearer to three than to two millions. Coming down to the later period of the revolt of the Jews again.st the Romans, in the time of Vespasian and Titus, we have it on the excellent authority of Josephus that the little province of Galilee alone furnished 100,000 fighting men; which, according to the usual way of estimating the whole population by the number of its efficient fighting men, would give to that small province a population of up- wards of half a million. But though, anciently, the possessions of the Israel- ites were confined within the comparatively narrow limits which we have just now stated, it must be borne in mind that those limits were frequently and greatly extended by war and conquest. In the time of Solo- mon, for instance, the extent of his kingdom was very great, including a great portion of Syria, and stretching in the north-easterly direction as far as the Euphrates. " For he had dominion over all the region on this side the river, from Tiphsah even to Azzah, over all the kings on this side the river ; and he had peace on all sides round about him." (i Kings, chap. iv. ver. z^.)- i~ WEALTH OF THE JEWS. 6t In other words he was the sovereign paramont through- out that great extent, and the " kings " here spoken of were not the independent rulers whom we now under- stand by that title, but rather a sort of feudal princes or satraps. Looking at Tiphsah, on the western side of the Euphrates:, and thence turning to Azzah, or Gaza, in the south-western corner of Palestine itself, the reader sees the extent of Solomon's dominion in one direction, while on the east and south-east it included the countries of Moab, Edom, and the land of the Ammonites, as well as large tracts still further east, which, though not actu- ally inhabited by his people, were used occasionally by them as pastures for their numerous flocks and herds. Of the vastnesss of the wealth of the Jews in the time of Solomon, no more striking evidence can be re- quired than is afforded by the details which are given in the First book of Kings of the enormous outlay bestow- ed by him upon the Temple and other buildings. But we have still further proof of the power and wealth of the Hebrew nation at that time, in the great respect and deference which the sovereigns of other nations showed to the wise king of Israel ; Hiram, king of Tyre, render- ing assis!:ance in his task of building the Temple, the queen of Sheba reverently waiting upon him with rich presents, and in humble anxiety, to hear the words of truth and wisdom from his lips ; all people coming " to hear the wisdom of Solomon, from all kings of the earth who had heard of his wisdom." In the time of David the population of Israel numbered at least between five and six millions ; and in the reign of his son, so happily exempted from the destructive wars with which David was constantly harrassed, it is quite certain that the population must have been far more numerous, even without including the Canaanites and other people who had been conquered by and become tributary to the people of Israel. During the greater part of the long reign of Solo- mon, a term of forty years, he had uninterrupted peace without, and uninterrupted prosperity within his king- dom. Rezon induced the people of Damascus to revolt it •: '*] I "Mi'" -1 ' i i"il U 1 .1 • I I IT III ^8 JEROBOAM MADE KING OF ISRAEL. and place him on the throne of Syria, " and he abhor- red Israel and reigned over Syria." (i Kings, xi. 25.) And Hadad the Edomite, " who was of the king's seed in Edom," was also an enemy to Israel and to Solomon towards the close of that king's reign. But human hos- tility would probably have been impotent against Israel, had it not been for the darling sin of its inhabitants, idolatry. " They have worshipped Ashtoreth, the god- dess of the Zidonians, Chemosh the god of the Moa- bites, and Mllcom the god of the children of Ammon," is the express reason given for taking all Israel, save Jerusalem and the tribe of Judah, from the family of Solomon to bestow it upon Jeroboam. Aware that Jeroboam, and not his own son Rehoboam, would rule over all Israel save only the tribe of Judah, Solomon " sought to kill Jeroboam," but that soldier fled into Egypt, and remained there until the death of Solomon. The decease of that monarch and the imprudent and insulting conduct of Rehoboam encouraged Jeroboam to return from his exile; "and it came to pass, when all all Israel heard that Jeroboam was come again, that they sent and called him unto the congregation, and made him king over all Israel: there was none that fol- lowed the house of David, but the tribe of Judah only." {i Kings, xi.) The once great kingdom of Israel, so populous, so, wealthy, and so powerful under David and his son Solo- mon, thus became broken into the two distinct and rival kingdoms — of Israel, with Samaria for its capital, and «"*" Judah, with Jerusalem for its capital, "And unto his (Solomon's) son (Rehoboam), will I give one tribe {Judah), that David my servant may have a light always before me in Jerusalem, the city which I have chosen me to put my name there." (Ibid.) In the year 721 B. C the kingdom of Israel was over- run and utterly subverted by the Assyrians ; and in rather more than another century and a quarter, i.e., in in the year 588 B.C., Judaea in its turn was conquered and Asia laid waste by Nebuchadnezzar, and the con- quest of Idumiea speedily followed, The Chaldean.s, PALESTINE UNDER ROMAN SWAY. 69 the Medes, and the Persians, ruled over this once fertile and populous expanse of country until they were in their turn invaded and conquered by Alexander the Great. In the division of the vast territories which that brilliant though ambitious and unprincipled conqueror had brought under his single rule, Judaea fell under the dominion of the kings of Syria, and remained subject to the Syrians or the Egyptians, or in all the distressing agitation of ill-combined and luckless resistance to them, until 130 B, C, when John*Hyrcanus successfully revolted against the Syrians, and assumed the crown of king and pontiff alike. This double power, royal and ecclesiastical, remained in the Asmonean dynasty until Antony gave the kingdom to Herod the Great, a prince of an Idumean family. Of the five provinces of which Palestine now con- sisted, three, at the death of Herod, fell to the lot of his son Archelaus, his tetrachate consisting of Judaea, Samaria, and Idumaea; Galilee fell to the share of the second son of Herod the Great, Herod Antipas; and Peraea, or the country beyond the Jordan, to Herod's third son, Philip. Archelaus, however, had the ill fortune to offend the mighty and vindictive Romans, who annexed his kingdom or tetrachate to their neigh- boring province of Syria, and placed it under the gov- ernment of procurators, a sort of viceroys all-powerful on the spot, but liable to recall at any moment. To a people so intensely national as the Jews, this subjec- tion to a foreign officer, who differed so widely from them in religion, and who despised them and was detested by them, could not but be most irksome and humiliating, and the consequence was that the Jews were perpetually revolting. Much censure has been cast upon the Jews on account of these revolts, but unjustly, and on very superficial observation. Favored and distinguished as they had been beyond all other people, the Jews were even less than any other people likely to bear the yoke of the foreigner and the heathen with patience ; and all that we know of Roman history strongly tends to assure us that the Roman did not 4 ■' 1 i 1f:i;. ;■! ; 70 JERUSALEM TAKEN BY TITUS. ;l li ■ il exercise his authority too mildly. Animated on the one hand by the proudest reminiscences, and goaded on the other by oppressions and executions, the Jews must have been either more or less than men had they not felt the desire to shake off the hated yoke, and become once more a free and powerful people. The prudence of their plans may well be doubted, and perhaps their uniform failure constitutes the best comment on that head. But in this case, as in all others, we must take human nature as we fihd it ; and though we may deem the Jews to have been aught but prudent in their fre- quent revolts against the Roman power, we must at least in candor confess, that, looking at their antece- dents, an undoubtedly brave people, st rred and stimu- lated alike by the remembrance of past freedom and by the endurance of existing oppression, could scarcely be expected to refrain from even imprudent endeavors at achieving the recovery of the one and the shaking off for ever of the other. But the Roman power was too vast and its policy too inflexible to be successfully resisted by a people so depressed as the Jewish people even then were. Irri- tated by the frequent revolts of subjects whom they so much despised, the Romans at length, under Vespasian, determined to inflict upon the Jews a chastisement .so severe as finally to crush them ; and after a long and terrible siege, in which immense numbers perished on both sides, and the description of which by Josephus is one of the most thrilling passages in history, Jerusalem was laken in the year 71 A.D,, by Vespasian's son Titus, the temple and all the principal edifices de- stroyed, and the whole city so completely desolated, that from that period till the time of the einperor Hadrian it was inhabited only by a mere handful of the poorest Jews. Hadrian restored many of its build- ings, planted a colony there and erected temples to Veiius and Jupiter. Still, however, Jerusalem remained substantially a Jewish city; the presence of heathen temples could not efface from the mind of the faithful Jew the departed glories of the temple of the one true « f THE CRUSADERS. 71 Jehovah; and while some with a most touching and pious obstinacy preferred Jerusalem, shorn though it was of all its splendors, to any other spot on earth as their abode, so even those Jews who went forth into other parts in search of peace or of wealth, still fondly yearned towards the holiest city of thrir lofty creed and antique race, and returned thither in pilgrimage, or to die there. Even the breaking up of the Roman power, however, was not to terminate the subjection of Judaea. In the sixth and seventh centuries the fierce Saracens overran it, inflicting the utmost cruelty, insult and extortion, on both the Jewish and Christian warfarers who went thither in pilgrimage, after the example set by the pious empress Helen, in the fourth century. The descriptions which pilgrims gave of the wrongs and sufferings to which they had been exposed, aroused a feeling of indig- nation alike in the priesthood and the chivalry of Europe, and led to the well known Crusades, or Holy Wars, the result of which, at the close of the eleventh century, was the taking of Jerusalem by the Crusaders, and the forming of the Latin kingdom under Godfrey of Bouillon and his successors. Circumscribed in extext, the Latin kingdom of Jerusalem was never for an instant safe from the attacks of the fierce warriors of the Crescent ; and the whole term of its existence (1099 — 1 187) may be said to have been one long alternation of hollow and brief truce, and of sanguinary and obstinate battle between the Christian and Saracen. The accom- plished and, in many particulars, chivalric and admira- ble Saladin at length conquered Judaea in 1 187, and the various disturbances and changes of which it was the scene after the breaking up of his kingdom, rendered it the easy and inevitable prey of the Turkish Empire, by which it was absorbed soon after the commencement of the 14th century. An empire so large and so little compacted as that of Turkey,, must of necesssity have many actual sove- reigns, even although they be nominally subject to one. And accordingly, though the whole Turkish empire is i .,t Ml i • li it '. 1' ! Mi ■i; i; •lii I i 'i I » I'll I Hit 72 THE PASHALICS OF SYRIA. nominally and formally subject to the Sultan, the pasha- lics into which it is divided arc in reality, to a very considerable extent, independent. The late Mohammed Ali, the energetic ruler of Egypt durinjr a long term of years, was virtually independent of Turkish power, and had extended his sway over the whole of Syria, until the intervention of the governments of Western Europe compelled its restoration to the authority of the Sultan, in 1840. Like other portions of the Turkish empire, Syria is divided into pashalics, of which there are at present four, those of Aleppo, Damascus, Tripoli, and Acre. That of Acre reaches from near Jobail to within a short distance of Jaffa, comprising a large portion of the Syrian coast and a considerable part of the interior, reaching as far back as the line of the Jordan and the Sea of Galilee. It thus includes part of the ancient Palestine. But a very great portion of Palestine, including Jerusalem, Gaza, Hebron, Nablous, and the country beyond Jordan, belongs to the great pashalic of Damascus, The pashalic of Tripoli extends along the Syrian coast, to the northward of Jebail; that of Aleppo occupies all the northern portion of the interior. The pashalics of Tripoli and Aleppo, however, are beyond the limits of Palestine. The rulers of these pashalics are really viceroys, and almost independent viceroys, of Syria. The Sultan, being not merely a civil sovereign, but also the vicar of Mahomet, and therefore possessed of the religious supre- macy of Islam, it perhaps would not be safe for any pasha, wholly and in express terms, to throw off his allegiance to the Sublime Porte. But, practically, the pashas are rather tributary sovereigns than mere officers of the empire ; and their dependence is chiefly mani- fested by the large amount of money which they annu- ally wring from the people whom they rule, and remit to Constantinople. So unsafe, however, does it seem to openly disclaim allegiance to the Sultan that even the most powerful of these provincial rulers have seldom ventured upon a course which proved fatal even to the PAST AND PRESENT ASPECTS OF PALESTINE. 73 fierce and seemingly invincible Ali Pasha of lanina. In a word, a sort of tacit compact seems to exist between the Sultan and his powerful pashas, to the effect that while he, as caliph and vicar of Mahomet, has a right to their annual tribute and to their nominal subjection and formal homage, they, on the other hand, have a right to expect the annual renewal of their appointment. And it is probable that both parties feel themselves inextrica- bly bound by this tacit compact. As long as the Sub- lime Forte will be contented with an annual tribute, paid out of their subjects' purses, the pashas will scarcely be so imprudent as to risk substantial power for a mere word and and a mere form ; but any attempt at degrading one of these too powerful subjects from his high and lucrative post might perhaps produce a revolt serious enough to threaten the dissolution of the Turkish empire. Comparing the present aspect and conditfon of Pal- estine with what the Scriptures tell us of its ancient fertility, some writers are inclined to think that a vast physical change must have taken place in that region, or that there must have been some great errors on the part of early writers in what relates to the vast popula- tion which this region is said to have formerly sup- ported. We see no reason for either the one supposition or the other. To us it appears that for either the com- parative depopulation or the comparative sterility of Palestine, we need seek for no other cause than its past wars and its present government In a country in which to be rich is to be persecuted, visible and tangible wealth, the exposed wealth of the cultivator, is undesirable. In such a country men covet most the wealth which can with the greatest facility be concealed. Gems and the precious metals will ever in such a country be preferred to flocks and herds, to spacious and comely mansions, and to well cultivated lands. Who will willingly build that others may inhabit, or sow that others may reap ? When it is notorious that at Jerusalem men of immense wealth live in houses which are studiously rendered squalid and wretched without, though the inner arrange- \ ■Ml ■ 1. ■ '\ ! _ia 74 A LAND OF "MILK AND HONEY." ments are comfortable and even costly, can we doubt that the same feeling of distrust and terror which has produced this species of practical hypocrisy — and which, be it remembered, has been in operation for centuries — has still more imperatfvely forbidden the adequate cul- ture of the land ? The olive, the date, the fig, and the grape, are still abundant and still magnificent in kind where the Ian-' of P^ 'est -ne receives even a slight and slovenly cultu. -, a;:> i^anaan is still quite truly "a land flowing with n. i;!v ni •, honey;" its pasture-lands being extensive and ric'' ■ ■ ci it«? more hilly portions abound ing in aromatic plants, a;! consequently also abounding in bees to such an extent that the poor collect the honey in immense quantities, even from the rocky clefts and hollow trees. Everywhere Palestine still evidences its natural fertility ; its diminished produce and its dimin- ished population, then, have human folly and human violence for their causes. It has been remarked, that if the advantages of nature were duly seconded by the efforts of human skill, we might, within the space of twenty leagues in Syria, bring together all the vegetable riches of the most distant countries. Besides wheat, rye, barley, beans, and the cotton-plant, which are cultivated everywhere, there are several objects of utility or pleasure peculiar to different localities, Palestine, for instance, abounds in sesamum, which affords oil, and in dhoura, similar to that of Egypt. Maize thrives in the light soil of Baal- bec, and rice is cultivated with success along the marsh of Haoul<5. Within the present century the sugar-cane has been introduced into the gardens of Saida and Beyrout, the fertility of which is not inferior to that of the Delta. Indigo grows, without culture, on the banks of the Jordan, and only requires a little care to secure good quality. The hills of Latakia produce tobacco, which is the source of a commercial intercourse with Damietta and Cairo. This crop is at present cultivated in all the mountains. The white mulberry forms the wealth of the Druses, by the beautiful silks which are obtained from the silk-worms that feed on it ; and the PALESTINE AS IT IS. 75 vine, raised on poles or creeping along the ground, furnishes red and white wine equal to those of Bor- deaux, Jaffa boasts of its lemons and water-melons ; and Gaza possesses the dates of Mecca and the pome- granates of Algiers. Tripoli has oranges which may vie with those of Malta ; Beyrout has figs like Mar- seilles, and bananas like St. Domingo ; Aleppo is unequalled for pistachio nuts ; and Damascus possesses all the fruits of Europe, apples, plums and peaches growing with equal facility upon the rocky soil. The Arabian coffee-shrub might be cultivated in Palestine. Palestine has much the advantage over the grc' : ." portion of Arabia. But the misdirected energies of man have been potent enough to paralyse the effo- s Oi th • most genial and luxuriant nature. Ever\'v'h, !*e there is found only tyranny and misery, robbery '^J devastation. On all hands the traveller sees abandoned fields, deserted villages, and cities in ruins. Frc eridy he discovers antique monuments, and remains of tem- ples, of palaces and fortresses, pillars, aqueducts, and tombs. This spectacle leads his mind to meditate on past times, and excites in his heart profound and serious thoughts. He recalls those ancient ages when twenty famous nations existed in these countries. He paints to himself the Assyrian on the banks of the Tigris, the Chaldean on those of the Euphrates, and the Persian reigning from the Indus to the Mediterranean. He numbers the kingdoms of Damascus and Idumaea, of Jerusalem and Samaria, the warlike states of the Philis- tines, and the commercial republics of Phoenicia. This Syria, now almost depopulated, could then count a hundred powerful cities, and its fields were studded with towns, village, and hamlets, Iwcr^vhere appeared cultivated fields, frequented rr>a,ds, and crowded habita- tions. What, alas ! wliat has become of those ages of abundance of life ? What of so many brilliant creations of the hand of man ? Where arc now the ramparts of Nineveh, the walls of Babylon, the palaces of Persepolis, and the temples of Baalbec and Jerusalem .? Where are the fleets of Tyre, the docks of Arad, the looms of Sidon, ¥4 > 1 ) r i N'> t-A m T— 1 : r i ? I j I 1 1 76 BY-GONE GRANDEUR. .1 t' and that multitude of sailors, of pilots, of merchants, and of soldiers ? Where are now all those laborers, those harvests, those flocks, and all those crowds of living beings that then covered the face of the earth ? Alas 1 he surveys a ravaged land. He visits the places which were the scenes of so much splendor, and finds only .solitude and desertion. He seeks the ancient nations and their works, but finds only a trace like that which the foot of the passenger leaves upon the dust. The temples are crumbled down, the palaces are overthrown ; the ports are filled up ; the cities are destroyed ; and the earth, stripped of its inhabitants, is only a desolate place of tombs. Palestine in especial, and western Asia in general, are wretchedly deteriorated from their an- tique condition. Sin and suffering ever form a cycle ; sin first, then suffering ; then further sin, and then further suffering; until the terrible circle is. completed and man chastised ; presumption and suffering weak- ness at length call upon the mercy of the Deity, and when was that ever vainly invoked .-* Considering Palestine and Syria, or, to speak more comprehensively, considering Western or Mediteranean Asia, as we are bounden to consider it, as the cradle of our race, we feel, if possible, more anxious to give our readers not merely a correct, but a vivid, a graphic, a perfectly lucid notion of it, than we do to give the like notion of other portions of Turkey. Fortunately for our wish, not only is the region in question very limited in extent, as compared to many far less important regions, but it is so circumscribed, and, as it were, staked out by the mountain ranges, the deserts, and the Mediterranean, that, in order to traverse it — in descrip- tion — in a regular fashion, we have, in fact, only ta select our own point of entrance ; strongly recommend- ing to our readers not to read one page after we touch upon that point of entrance without consulting the map. He who embarks on board a Greek or Arab craft must make up his mind to assist in a variety of modern imitations of the wanderings of Ulysses and Telemachus; for the slightest gust of wind suffices to drive them from DISCUSSION ON RELIGION. 77 any one corner of the Mediterranean to any other corner of it, and accordingly, all Europeans who have to go direct from any one point to any other point of the shores of the Meditterranean find it the most expeditious plan to await the arrival of the English packet, which thus well nigh monopolizes the passenger-service of those shores. Every month a mere brig, and that even not a steamer, arrives at and departs from those illustrious cities of the olden day, which then were known as Berytus, Sidon, Tyre, Ptolemais and Ciesarea. In general the heat is too great to allow of sleeping in the cabins, and each passenger, consequently, chooses his place upon deck for his night's sleep and his afternoon nap ; while dur- ing all the rest of the day he sits upon his mat or mat- tress and smokes, with his back lazily leaning against the bulwarks. The Franks alone form an exception to this general rule, and pass the day in pacing the deck, to the no small astonishment of the less locomotive Levantines who can by no means comprehend that squirrel-Hke activity. It is difficult, not to say impossi- ble, thus to pace the deck without running foul of the legs of some Turk or Bedouin, who, on ( very occurrence of the kind, makes a ferocious start, lays his hand upon his dagger, and closes a volley of imprecations by pro- mising that he will meet with you at some other time. The bell had just summoned a party of pilgrims, among whom was the author, to breiikfast, when a missionary, who had embarked for Acre, pointed out a small headland which is supposed to be the very spot at which Jonah was disgorged by the whale. A little mosque upon that headland attests the reverence of the Mussulmans for that biblical narrative, and the sight of that mosque insensibly led me and the missionary into one of those discussions which are no longer fashionable in Europe, but which naturally and inevitably spring up among travellers in countries in which they feel that religion is everything. " After all,'" remarked one, " the Koran is only a compilation and summary of the Old and New Testa- ments, edited in other terms, and augmented by certain 1 ■1. f M i: i: it; i> 1^ I i; 78 ANGLICAN-ISLAMISM. directions arising out of peculiarities of climate. Thus, Mussulmans reverence our Saviour, if not as the in- carnated deity, at least as a prophet ; they also reverence the Kadra Miriam — the Virgin Mary — and our angels, our prophets, and our saints. Whence, then, arises the immense prejudice which still separates them from the Christians, and which still renders all intercourse be- tween them insecure?" '* That is not my view of the case," replied the missionary, *' and it is my opinion that the Turks and Protestants will one day come to an agreement ; and then an intermediate sect will be formed ; a sort of Orienta.l Christianity — " " Or Anglican Islamism," interrupted another; "but what renders Catholicism incapable of the same process effusion and amalgamation?" " Because, in the eyes of the Mussulmans, Catholics are idolaters. It is but in vain that you explain to them that you pay no worship to the sculptured image or to the painted picture, but to the Divine or Holy personage represented by the one or by the other, that you honor the angels and the saints, indeed, but that you do not adore them. The Mussulmans cannot com- prehend your distinction, which to them is a distinction without a difference. And, in truth, what idolatrous people is it that ever has adored the very wood, the very stone, or the very canvas ? To the Mussulmans, therefore, the Catholics are at once polytheists and idolaters, while they look upon the various Protestant communions as an approximation to their own." These words caught the ears of a lively-looking young man with a rough black beard and with a Greek cloak, the hood of which, being drawn over his head, concealed his head-dress, that sole Oriental indication of condition and of nationality. But, as to the latter point at least, he left us no very long time in doubt. " Eh ! what !" he exclaimed, " rely upon it that the Pro- testants will no more blend with the Turks than the Catholics will ; the Turks will always continue to be Turks." ' i; DECREASE OF THE TURKISH RACE. 79 Neither the somewhat unceremonious interruption, nor the very decided provincial accent of the new inter- locutor, could prevent the company from detecting the nationality of the new comer. Marseilles was plainly stamped upon his every word ; he was a Frenchman, " No, Messieurs," continued he, *' there is nothing to be done with the Turks ; but fortunately they are a people that is now fast becoming extinct ! Monsieur, I was at Constantinople lately, and I had to ask myself, where are the Turks ? There arc no longer any ! There are no longer any of them there ! " " You go pretty far, Monsieur," said one ; '* believe me, I myself have recently seen np small number of Turks," " And do you really fancy that they are Turks whom you have seen .'' Take my 'v^rd for it they are no trae Turks at all ; I mean, they are not genuine Osmanli Turks : reflect, Monsieur, it is not every Mussul- man who is a genuine Turk." "Are you so perfectly sure of that, Monsieur.''" asked another. " Why Monsieur," said he, " 1 was lately in Con- sta:^tinople, and there they are all Greeks, Armenians, Italians, or Marsellais. All the Turks whom they can lay hold of they turn into Cadis, Ulemas, or Pashas ; or they even send them to Europe to be gazed at ! But what would you have ? All their children die ; it is a race that is fast becoming extinct !" " And yet they still well know how to keep their provinces .''" " What ! Monsieur ! Why who is it, think you, who keeps them ? They are kept by Europe, by the great governments wi. ) are anxious that no existing arrange- ments should be disturbed, who fear wans, and even revolts, and each of whom wishes to prevent the other from obtaining the advantage ; that is the reason which holds them all in check, looking into the whites of each other's eyes ; and all this while it is the populations that suffer for it I You hear of the armies of the Sultan ; but of whom do you find that they are composed } • 1 M I ii ij ij THE ARMIES OF THE SULTAN. Albanians, Bosnians, Circassians, and Koords ; the sail- ors are Greeks, the officers alone are Turks What do you suppose the diplomatists will do when the rayahs shall say to them — ' Behold our misfortune ; we have not a single Turk in the entire empire ; we know not what to do, and we give everthing over to you.' " Though this view of the case is even absurdly over- charged, there yet are some touches of truth in it by which I was much struck. There can be no reasonable doubt that the Turks have very greatly diminished in number ; there are certain influences under which the races of men deteriorate even as those of the lower animals do. For a long time the principal strength of the Turkish empire reposed -upon soldiery alien to the race of Othman ; such as the Janissaries and the Mame- lukes. At the present day it is chiefly by the aid of some legions of Albanians that the Porte keeps twenty millions of Greeks, Catholics, and Armenians, in subjec- tion to the law of the Crescent. And Cv'en with that aid could it continue to do so but for the further sup- port of European diplomacy, and the armed interven- tion of England ? When we reflect that this Syria, all the ports of which were bombarded by English cannon in 1840 — and that, too, for the profit of the Turks — is the same land oh which the whole chivalry of feudal Europe rushed in arms for six centuries, and which our religious recognize and hail as a Holy Land, we may venture to believe that religious sentiment has reached a very low ebb in Europe. The English did not even think of retaining for the Christians the invaded heri- tage of Richard the Lion-hearted !" While we had thus been speculating the packet made land and was gradually brought to, and some of the passengers directed our attention to a white point on the shore : we had made the port of Saida, the ancient Sidon. Mar Elias — the mountain of Elias, holy to the Turks as well as to the Christians and the Druses — rose to the left of the town, and the imposing mass of the French Khan speedily attracted jur notice. The walls and the towers bore the marks of the English bombard- PORT OF SAIDA. 8i ment in 1840, by which all the maritime towns of the Libunus were dismantled. Moreover, all their ports from Tripoli to Saint Jean d'Acre have subse- quently been filled up by Fakardine, prince of the Druses, with the view of preventing the descent of the Turkish troops, and consequently, those once illustrious towers are now nothing but ruins and desolation. Na- ture, however, joins not in these so often renewed illus- trations and fulfilment of the Scripture maledictions, but still delights to surround those ruins with verdure and beauty as with a framework, and the gardens of Sidon still flourish as in the antique times of the wor- ship of the Phoenician Astarte. The modern city is built at the distance of a mile from the site of the ancient one, the ruins of which surround a little hill, which is crowned by a square tower of the middle age, which is itself a ruin. We speedily landed, and pro- ceeded to the French Khan, over which the French tri- color was flying, and which is the most considerable building in Saida. The vast square court-yard, shaded by acacias, and having a large basin in its centre, is surrounded by two ranges of galleries, which below cor- respond with warehouse and above with the chambers which are occupied by the merchants. That French Khan is a perfect town ; there is not a more impor- tant spot in all Syria; but unfortunately our trade there is no longer in proportion to the extent of the establishment. We went with our consul to see the ruins, which are reached by crossing some delightful gardens, the finest on the whole coast of Syria. As to the ruins in the north, they are mere fragments and dust ; only the foundations of a wall appear to belong to the Phcenician period ; the rest belong to the middle age, and it is well known St. Louis built the town and repaired a square castle that was anciently built by the Ptolemies. The cistern of Elias, the sepulchre of Zabu- lon, and some sepulchral grottoes, with remnants of pilasters and paintings, complete all that Saida owes to the past. As we returned the consul pointed out to me a house on the sea-shore, which was inhabited by M I !■ I'; I' '! 1 ■ ) 82 SIEGE OF SAINT JEAN D ACRE, Napoleon at the time of the campaign in Syria. The paper-hangings, elaborately painted with warlike em^ blems, were placed there purposely for him, and two book-cases surmounted by China vases still contain the books and plans which the hero industriously consulted. It will be remembered that he advanced as far as Saida in order to establish a correspondence with the Emirs of Syria. A secret treaty put at his disposal a mercen- ary force of six thousand Maronites and six thousand Druses, who were to prevent the army of the Pasha of Damascus from marching upon Acre. Unfortunately, the sovereigns of Europe damped the enthusiasm of the populations, and the ever politic princes of the Libanus gave their adhesion to the result of the siege of Saint Jean d'Acre. Thousands of native combatants, how- ever, had already joined the French army out of sheer hatred to the Turks, but under the circumstances their number was insufficient to act with decisive effect. The expected besieging materiel, too, was intercepted by the English fleet, which succeeded in throwing artillery and engineers into Acre. It was a Frenchman, and a former fellow-student of Napoleon, who directed the defences ; and thus, perhaps, it was an old school feud that decided the fate of the world. Again we were under weigh ; the chain of the Liba- nus loomed lower and more distant as we approached Acre, and the shore became more and more sandy and destitute of verdure. We were soon in sight of Soor, the ancient Tyre, at which, however, we only lay long enough to take in some passengers. The town is far less important than Saida. It is built upon the shore, and the islet on which the town stood when Alexander besieged it is now covered only with gardens and pas- ture lands. The jetty that was constructed by order of the conqueror now bears no traces of human labor, but has the appearance simply of an isthmus of a quarter of a league in h ngth. Ikit if anti(juity is now indicated upon these shores by some fragments of red and grey columns, there are far more iifiposing vestiges of the Christian age. We can still distingui.sh the foundations TYRE. 83 of the ancient cathedral, built in the Syrian taste, which was divided into three semi-circular naves, separated by- pilasters, and which contained the tomb of Frederick Barbarossa, who was drowned near Tyre, in the Kasi- mien The famous wells of living water of Ras-el-Ain, which are spoken of in the Old Testament, and which are veritable Artesian wells, the creation of which is attributed to Solomon, still exist at about a league from the town, and of the aqueduct which formerly car- ried their waters to Tyre, several of the immense arches are still visible. And these are all that remain of Tyre ! Its transparent vases, its brilliant purple, and its precious woods, were formerly renowned throughout the whole earth ; but all those precious exports have now made way for a trifling trade in grain, which is grown by the Metoualis, and sold by the Greeks, who are very numerous in the town. We entered the port of Saint Jean d'Acre just at nightfall. It was too late to land; but by the clear light of the stars all the details of the gulf, gracefully sweeping between Acre and Kaifa, were displayed by the aid of the contrast of the earth and the waters. Beyond the hori/on of several leagues rise the crests of the Anti-Libanus, sinking on the left, while on the right the chain of Carm'jl rises in bold masses towards Galilee. The sleeping t nvn as yet onl}' revealed itself by its loop-holed walls, its square towers, -md the domes of its mosque gleaming in the moonlighl. But for the solitary minaret of that mosque, reminding us of the presence of Islamism, one might have imagined one's self still gazing upon the feudal city of the Templars, the last bulwark of the Crusades. The dawn dispelled that illusion, by displaying the mass of shapeless ruins, the melancholy result of so many sieges and bombardments which the place has suffered even down to a recent day. At the first gleaming of day the Marsellais awaked me, and pointed out the morning star shining brightly down upon the village of Nazareth, distant only about eight leagues from us. The memories awakened by that sight could :^^i m k 1 i 1 1 1' '' i ■ .if lllf ! i- S4 MEHEMET PASHA. not bat fill us with emotion; and vve proposed to the Marsellais that we should make an excursion to Naza- reth. " It is a great pity," said he, shrugging his shoulders, *' but it is none the less a fact, that the House of Our Lady is no longer to be seen there ; the angels having removed it to Loretto, near Venice. Here all that they show one is the site, and that (foigive the pun), is a sight scarcely worthy the trouble of so long a trip.' Moreover, we were for the moment chiefly intent upon paying our visit to the pasha. The experience of the Marsellais in Turkish manners might, we thought, enable him to give us some useful advice as to the mode of presentirjg ourselves, and we informed him how we had made the acquaintance of Mehemet Pasha at Paris. " Do you think he will recognize us ?" we asked. " Oh! not a doubt of that; only you must resume your Euro- pean costume, or you will have to wait your turii of audience, ni which case you will not probably see him to-day." We followed this advice, only we continued to wear the Tarboush, on account of our heads being shaven, according to the oriental fa.shion. We now went ashore, and diverted ourselves with traversing the narrow and dusty streets, to while away the time until the fit hour to present ourselves to the pasha. But with the exception of the bazaar and the mosque of Djezzar Pasha, which had been newly re- painted, there really is little to be seen in the town. None but an architect by profession could give the plan of the churches and convents of the period of the cru- .saders. The site is .still marked out by the foundations. Nothing remains .standing but a gallery which runs beside the fort, a remnant of the palace of the Grand Masters of St. John of Jerusalem. The pasha resided out of town, in a summer kiosk, situate near the gardens of Abdallah, at the end of an ■nquoduct which crosses the plain. On seeing in the (' i.rt-yarJ the numerous horses and slaves of the visi- tors we at once oerccived the wisdom of the Marsellais v.s to v\y change of * ostume. In the Levantine dress A pasha's reception. 85 we should have been but an insignificant personage ; in our black European suit we became " the cynosure of all eyes, observed of all observers." Under the peristyle, at the foot of the staircase, was au immense mass of slippers, left there by the visitors who had already been admitted. The Tchiboutji who received us wanted us to take off our boots ; but we refused to do so, which evidently gave a high notion of our importance, and accordingly we were kept scarcely a moment in the waiting-room. Moreover, the letter with which we were provided had already been handed to the pasha, and although it was not our turn he ordered our admittance. We took leave of the Marsellais, and returned to the kiosk of the pasha. As we crossed the plain covered with wild plants and grass scorched up by the sun, we admired the admirably selected site of the ancient city, once so powerful and so magnificent, now reduced to a shapeless tongue of land stretching into the waters, and covered with the wrecks made by three terrible bom- bardments within fifty years. At every moment one strikes one's foot against cannon-balls and fragments of bombs with which the earth is strewed and furrowed. On entering the pavillion in which we had been re- ceived in th' morning, we no longer saw a heap of .slip- pers at the foot of the staircase, and the entering apart- ment was no longer crowded with visitors ; we were or'y led across the clock-room, and in the next room e found the pasha, who was leaning on the windou jl, and smoking, and who, without altering his posturt id in the most unceremonious manner possible, gave a true French .shake of the hand, and said, " Well now goes it ? Have you had a good walk about our vn ? Have you se:n everything ?" He no longer .spoke in Italian, but in French, and his reception was .so different from that which he had given us in the morning that we could not forbear from betray- ing our surprise. "Ah!" said he. " excu.sc me if I this morning received you en Pasha. The worthy folks who were in the hall of audience would never have forgiv jn 5 I 'I '. in 4 ' ''|i i;*^ ' liilii 86 DINING IN THE EUROPEAN FASHION. me for a breach of etiquette in favor of a Frank. At Constantinople every one understands that sort of thing, and here we are mcvG provincials^ After a pretty long as well as strong emphasis upon this last word, Mehemet Pasha condescended to inform us that he had for a considerable time sojourned at Metz in Lorraine, as a student in the preparatory school of artillery. This detail at once set us at our ease, by sup- plying us with an opportunity to speak of some of our friends who had been his comrades. In the midst of our conversation, the evening gun of the port announced the setting of the sun, and a loud burst of drums and fifes called the faithful to prayer. The Pasha left us for a moment, no doubt for the purpose of fulfilling his reli- gious duties ; and then he returned and said to us — "We shall dine in the European fashion.'' And, in fact, the attendants brought in chairs and a high table, instead of turning a tabouret up-side down and covering it with a pi:iteau of metal and setting cushions around, as is the Eastern custom. We were fully sensible of the true and kindly politeness by vhich the Pasha's piocedure was dictated, and yet we must confess, we do not love this gradual invasion of the East by our Euro- pean customs, and we complained to the Pasha that he treated us as though we vvcre some mere vulgar tourists. •• And yet," sp.'*d he, " you come to visit me in your European costvmie of mournful or formal black V* The reply was just, and we felt quite convinced that we were right. Whatever we may do, and however far we may conciliace the friendship, of the Tuik, it must not be supposed that there can be any fusion of bis fashion of living and ours. The European customs which he adopt'" in certain cases become a sort of neutral ground, where he receives us without delivering up himself; he imitates our manners, as he uses our language, but solely out of consideration for us. He resembles that char- acter of the ballet who is half peasant and half noble: to Europe he shows his gaitlcman side, but to Asia he is still the Osmanlec. In fact, the prejudices of the people render this policy absolutely necessary. ;uif : 'I'l KEY TO PALESTINE. 87 We shall now land our readers at Acre, as being oa several accounts the most convenient spot from which to make our imaginary trips to the most famous and important places of Palestine, Syria, and Asia Minor. A more motley and heterogeneous population than that of Syria it would not be easy to find, consisting as it does of Jews, Turks, Syrians, Arabs of the Desert, Greek. Latin, and Armenian Christians, Copts, Maron- ites, and Druses. High posts, whether military or civil, are held in Acre, as in all the other pashalics, almost exclusively hy^ the Turks ; while the Greeks, Armenians, and Jews, are the chief interpreters, bankers, financiers, and agents, or brokers. Acre is the ancient Ptolemais, and is seated on the northern angle of the bay of the same name, a fine semicircular sweep of between three and four leagues, stretching as far as Carmel. Forming as it does the key to Palestine, it was a place of especial ' - equence and great resort at the time of the Crusaa . ., when it was frequently, and very sharply, contested between the Paynim ana the Christian chivalry ; but when the Knights of St. John of Jerusalem were at length ex- pelled from it, it became almost utterly ruined as well as deserted, and in that condition it remained until the ferocious butactivc and capable Djezzar Pasha repaired both the town and the harbor, and by his only too notorious capacity and despotism restored it to its former rank and importance. Being the great port alike for import and export, it was especially valuable to Djezzar, who thus could command not merely the general trade of Syria Vjut also its supply of food. Terribly ferocious tyrant as he was, Djezzar had never- theless some really great qualities as a ruler, and may even be said to have been magnificent as a founder and restorer of public works. Stripping the vast and beauti- ful remains of Caesarea, which he regarded and used as a m-?re quarry, he built a mosque, a bazaar, and that great Eastern convenience and ornajnent, a fine public fountain ; and from the time of the expulsion of the Knights of St. John, Acre has had no greater benefactor I .1 'Y I ii ^8 DJEZZAR, OR "THE BUTCHER." than this able though terrible man, of whom it has been quaintly and truly said that " he was himself his own engineer and his own architect ; he formed the plans, drew the designs, and superintended the execution. He was his own minister, chancellor, treasurer, and secre- tary ; often his own "ook and gardener, and not unfre- quently both judge and executioner at the same instant." At the commencement of the present century, when Acre was visited by Dr. Clarke, that fortress and the consequent command both of the coast and of the inland country were in the possession of Achmet, who boldly and successfully bade defiance to the Turkish govern- ment, and ruled with a despotic and cruel power rarely equalled even by a Turkish ruler. A native of Bosnia, he*early in life became a slave at Constantinople. Here, however, where everything is paradoxical, the seemingly hopeless and forlorn condition of slavery very frequently serves but as a stepping-stone to wealth and power. So it was in the case of Achmet, which was his real name ; though v/hen he became possessed of the power which he so ruthlessly exerted he took a pride in being known by the name of Djezzar, or the Butcher, a name to which his det -s only too well corresponded. Being sold as a slave to Ali Bey in Egypt, Achmet displayed so much ability and firmness of purpose that he became governor of Cairo, and from that post he speedily rose to be Pasha of both Sidon and Acre ; and when Volney travelled in the Holy Land, as long ago as 1784, Ach- met had a force of nearly a thousand Bosnian and Arnaut cavalry, besides a frigate and two or three smaller craft, and his annual revenue was nearly half a million sterling, an immense sum for that time and country. When Dr. Clarke visited Achmet, that ferocious tyrant was sixty years of age, and still in full possession of his mental and bodily faculties, a fact of which he was not a little proud. Dr. Clarke says : " We found him seated on a mat in a little chamber destitute of even the meanest article of furniture, excepting a coarse "MARKED MEN.' 89 n r and porous earthenware vessel for cooling the water which he occasionally drank. He was surrounded by- maimed and disfigured persons, some without a nose, others without an arm, with only one ear or with only one eye ; these persons he termed marked men, persons bearing signs of their having been taught to serve their master faithfully ! He scarcely," continues the Doctor, ,* looked up to notice our entrance, but continued his employment of drawing upon the floor, for one of his engineers, a plan of some works which he was then constructing. His form was athletic, and his long white beard entirely covered his breast. His habit was that of a common Arab, plain but clean, consisting of a white camlet over a cotton cassock, and his turban was also white. Neither cushion nor carpet decorated the boards of his divan. In his girdle, indeed, he wore a poniard set with diamonds, but this he apologized for displaying, saying that it was his badge of office as governor of Acre, and, therefore, could not be laid aside. Having ended his orders to the engineer, we were directed to sit upon the end of the divan, and his dragoman — interpreter — Signer Bertocino, kneeling by his side, he prepared to hear the cause of our visit." Achmet Pasha has bfcen very appropriately termed the Herod of his day. Not only did he delight to be surrounded by men whose maims and disfigurements testified to his cruelty, but his rigor was as great to- wards the weaker sex. Thus on one occasion of his rightly or wrongly#>uspecting his wives of infidelity, he butchered no fewer than seven of them with his own hands ; and it was strongly suspected, from the extreme secrecy with which all deaths in his harem were con- cealed, that isolated cases of similar murder were to be charged against him. He was as avaricious as he was cruel, and not even his really great ability could com- pensate for his merciless and short-sighted extortions. To the port and town of Acre he may be said to have been a benefactor, but to the country around he was an actual scdurge. Not even the fertility of the country over which he bore sway could prevent his extortions ?! ■ « " i ) I- I I ill ii if 1 ■ ^ 90 AN EASTERN TYRANT. from inflicting great and even permanent injury upon it, and we cannot better sum up his character than by saying that he was a genuine and strongly-marked type of the worst description of Eastern tyrants ; reckless of human suffering, profuse of human blood, and quite in- satiable in his thirst after riches. Though Acre is supposed even now to have a popu- lation of ten thousand souls, and though from its posi- tion as a port, and from its being only twenty-seven miles from Tyre and only eighty-two from Jerusalem, it must always command a certain degree of prosperity, it yet may emphatically be termed a city of the past, It has a vast number of ruins, nearly all of which ex- hibit great strength. Maundrell enumerates a great many of these ruins, and among them those of the cathedral church of St. Andrew, according to some, though byothcrs,withbut little propriety, called thepalace of King Richard. Maundrell also notices the ruins of the church of St. John, the tutelary saint of the Knights Templars, by whom the town was called Saint Jean d'Acre, instead of its ancient name of Ptolemais, the convent of the Knights Hospitallers, their grand master's palace, and many other ruins of churches, monasteries, and forts extending above half a mile in length, " all of them displaying," he adds, " so much strength, as though eveiy building in the city had been contrived for war and defence." And there can be but little doubt that such was in reality the case, for Sandys, always careful and mostly accurate, says, " The caroass shows that the body hath been strong, doubly immured {i.e., double walled), fortified with bulwarks and towers, to each wall a ditch lined with stone, and under these various secret posterns. You would judge by the ruins that the city rather consisted wholly of divers conjoining castles than any way mixed with private dwellings, which witness a notable defence and an unequal assault, or that the rage of the cunquei'ors extended beyond conquest ; the huge wall and arche:: turned topsy-turvy, and lying like rocks upon the foundation." All these indications perfectly agree with what we know of the character and history RUINS OF ACRE. 91 of Acre. Being the key to Syria and the bulwark of Christianity against heathenesse, it was quite natural that all its buildings should partake of the warlike char- acter. In that often assailed and valiantly contested city, even the merchant and the priest were as much exposed to the dangers of war as the Christian knights and soldiers were ; and its great value as a commercial entrepot rather increased than diminished its need of vast strength as a fortress. Dr. Clarke speaks with contempt of the interior of Acre, as having the common defect of Levantine towns : *' narrow, dirty lanes, with wretched .shops and as wretched inhabitants." But travellers too often forget that in hot climt"'.tcs narrowness of streets is anything rather than a defect ; with the broad streets and open squares of Petersburgh, London, or Paris, towns in the climate of Acre or Jerusalem would be unendurably hot and unhealthy. If the narrow streets and lotty houses were but perfectly clean, we are inclined to believe that they would be admirably adapted to the requirements of whose who occupy them. In Dr. Clarke's time the ruins of Acre were as rich and as beautiful as they were numerous and massive. We saw many superb remains still in the pasha's palace, in the khan, the mosque, the public bath, the fountains and other works of the town, consisting of fragments of antique marble, the shafts and capitals of granite, and marble pillars, masses of the verde antique breccia, of the ancient serpentine, and of the syenite and trap of Egypt, In the garden of Achmct's palace, leading to his summer apartment, we saw some pillars of yellow variegated marble of extraordinary beauty, but these he informed us he had procured from the ruins of Caisarea, upon the coast between Acre <^k1 Jaffa, together with almost all the marble used in the decoration of his very sumptuous mosque. A beautiful fountain of white mar- ble, close to the entrance of his palace, has also been constructed with materials from those ruins. . . The bath is the finest and best built of any that we saw in the Turkish empire. Every kind of antique marble, 1-; ■; IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-S) h /. {./ ^ ,. L1>' '^^\ 4 ^., ;\ ^>^ 33 WeST MAIN STRUT WiBSTIR.N.Y. MS80 (716) S73-4S03 '^ V ^ i ; I .;! 'i ■ 1 ill '\s I ■i 92 C^^SAREA. together with large pillars of Egyptian granite, might be observed among the materials emplo)'ed in build- ing it. The country around Acre is by nature of very great and various fertilit)-, producing corn, cattle, olives, lin- seed, water-melons, pumpkins, and cucumbers, besides a variety of fruits. In the time of Dje/zar it also furnish- ed a considerable export of cotton ; but his cupidity and utter disregard alike of the rights of proi)erty and the interests of labor were ill-calculatvd to foster a cultiva- tion at once so important and so delicate. liattered and a.ssailed as Acre has so often been from the time of the Crusades to l>uona;iarte"s and our own doings there, nothing but its excellent position ha.s saved it from utter desolation. In the hands of a really enlightened government it might even yet achieve all and more than all its former strength and oeauty ; but the grasping rule of a Turkish pasha too often tends to neutr.ili/e any advantages, however great, of j)osition, soil, or climate. Apart from its historic greatness. Acre is amply- entitled to attention, frcnn its position relatively to the most interesting of all the cities of the Holy Land — Jerusalem ; to which place we now proceed to direct the attention of our readers. Pilgrims to the Holy City not unfreijuentl)- fmd Acre their b^st starting point; and thither, by way of C;esarea and Jaffa, we now pro- ceed to trace the route. On leaving Ac re for Jerusalem by way of the above places, the road runs for some dis- tance along that coast by which (Acts xxi.) St. Paul returned from Macedonia to Jerusalem ; but .some travellers take the inland road, by way of Nazareth. Hy far the most interesting place between Acre and Jerusalem is the once magnificent Ciesarea. The Arabs still give it the equivalent name of Kaisaria, but where the splendid city of Herod once teemed with busy crowds there is now not a single inhabitant. Perhaps there has not, in the history of the world, been an example of a city that in so short a space of time ro.se to such an extraordinary height of splendor as did this * ANCIKNT AQUEDUCTS. 93 of C.Tsarea, or that exhibits a more awful contrast to its former magnificence by the present desolate appearance of its ruins. Its theatres, once resounding with the shouts of multitudes, echo no other sound than the nightly cries of animals roaming for their prey. Of its gorgeous palaces and its temples, enriched with the choicest works of art, and decorated with tiie most precious marbles, scarcely a trace can be discerned. Within the space of ten years after laying the founda- tion, ♦"rom an obscure fortress (called the tower of Strato. as it is said, after the Greek who fuuntied it), it beca» le the most celebrated and flourishing city of .Syria. Merod dedicated it to Augustus and called it (.'.esai 'a, in honor of him, Sub.se([uently it was made a Roman colony by Vesj)asian. who granted it several I)rivileges. The 1. arbor of C;esarea was originally very inferior to its other commercial iiptitudes ; but Josephus informs us that Herod, at a vast expense, rendered it one of the most convenietit harbors on that coast. The supjjosed sites t)f the ancient buildings of Ciusarea are such mere shai)ele.ss mountls, that no reasonable conjectures can be tounded upon them as to its ancient topograj)hy. Hut aqueducts, rufining from north to south, still remain to testify by their own va.st- ness the magnificence and extent ol^ the city which they formerly supplied with water. The lower and more easterly of these acqueducts is on an vuiarched wall ; it is thirteen feet in thickness, and must I'lave conveyed an immense (juantity of water in its arched channel, which is five feet and a iialf in width. The other is about a hundred and twenty feet nearer to the sea, and is built on arclies. They are both nearlv buried in sand, but their ancient extent and excellence are still very per- ceptible. The town is said to have been walled b)- Louis IX. of France, in the time, and no doubt for the advantage, oi the crusaders ; and on a point of land wiiich stretches from the south-western angle of the walls there arc the remains of a very ^strong castle, full of fragments of pillars of marble, granite, and a very buci tiful grey alabaster. As the foundation is formed ;l •94 REMARKABLE RUINS. fl \i of immcnst pillars of granite, Captain Mangles infers that it was built upon the ruins of some Roman temple. Within the walls there are great ruins of aichcd houses, "Which were probably built during the Holy War , but the ground is so over-grown with briers and thistles that it was impossible to examine any part excepting where there was a beaten path. It is a remarkable resort for wild boars, which also abound in the neighboring plain ; when the Mahome- dans kill them they leave carcases upon the spot, as it would V ^^IW^^nWSiMiHK!«SB^K:i^^'///" defile them to touch iwJ^^^^^^^^^^S!^^^''^!^' ^^^^^^- 'riit^rc is no mmilmM^!Hymi^Mli-.l^.^!i^U,^ ..,.1 ^ other remarkable ruin within the walls except a large church, probably the cathedral of the archbishop, who had twenty bishops under him. It is a strong building, and it, as well as the castle, seem.s, to have been destroyed by war. By what I could con- jecture, it seems to have been built in the style of the Syrian churches, with three naves which ended to the east in semicircles, where they have their principal altars. Though the remains of C;i}sarea were so extensively used as a quarry by Djezzar for his repairs and build- ings, they are still considerable. Various columns and masses of stones are seen lying in the sea, close to the shore. The hi.«toric fame of this city of the past is very great. Repeated mention is made of Cassarea in the Acts of the Apostle.s. There it was that Paul was so long detained a pri.soner, and there, in presence of King Agrippa, he delivered that eloquent address which is preserved in the' 26th chapter of the Acts. It is fre- quently, too, named as the port at which the apostles WILD I50AR OF PAIESTINE. HAKAM. 95 embarked or landed, and it is mentioned, also, as the abode of Cornelias the centurian, and of Phillip. After crossing an extensive plain, the traveller reaches the villaj^e of Ilaram, where are caves and indications of excavated ench, under the first Napoleon, is well known. In the present day JafTa is a town of moderate size, with about 5,000 inhabitants. It ex- hibits no remains of anticpiity. (>ardens and groves of orange and other fruit trees, with olives and .syca- mores, extend for a consitlerable distance outside the town. That its position relatively to Judaja, and particu- larly with reference to Jerusalem, to the westward of flmflf \.\ ;:! ;; i ' i' ! I i' I (i 96 JAFFA, OR JOrPA. 11 which it lies at only about forty miles distance, has been the solo means of conferring^ importance upon Jaffa, is evident from the fact that its harbour, though so much, and during so long a period, re- sorted to, is in reality a very bad one. Dr. Clarke, among modern travellers, does not hesitate to pronoun cc it "one of the worst in the Mediter- ranean," And Josephus, always a high authority on all subjects coimected with Palestine, says that *' Joppa and Dora are small maritime cities, which are unfit for harbours by « reason of their exposure to im- petuous souther- ly winds, which rol 1 the sands from the sea upon the stones, and will not allow of ships keeping their station ; so that the mer- chants and mariners are there compelled to ride at their anchors on the sea itself." In fact, not only the disad- vantage spoken of by Josephus. but, also numerous rocks and shoals, render the actual harbor so incon- DATE I'AI.M TRKK. KAMLAH. 99 venient and insecure, that to this day ships usually take up their berths at a mile or more from the town. Quitting Jaffa, the traveller proceeds in a south-east- wardly direction, to Ramlah, a journey of about three hours, or nine miles ; the hour's journey in those coun- tries being on the average about three miles. The country thus traversed is of an undulating and .some- what wild aspect, tolerably well wooded in the innne- diate vicinity of Jaffa, but afterwards almost entirely destitute of trees, excepting a few olives on the hills. This naked aspect is preserved until Ramlah is neared, and then the trees, especially the stately rilnis, become very numerous. Kam/a/i, the Rama of ICphraim, and long, though without sufficient reason, conjectured to be the Arima- thea of the New Testament, thirty miles distant from Jerusalem, is situated in a smiling and fertile plain, and is inhabited by about two thou.sand families. Chri.stian travellers here mostly find their temporary home in the Latin Convent, which was founded by Philip the Good, Duke of Burgundy, and occupied exclusively by Spanish brethren, the Armenians and Greeks have also convent here, but they are far inferior to the one already mentioned. The Turks have two handsome mo.sques, which formerly were Christian churches. In one of these is a beautiful white marble tomb witJi bas- reliefs and gilt inscriptions ; it contains the remains of Aayoub Bey, a Mameluke, who had fled on the French entering Egypt, and who died here. Lydda, now Lood, where St. Peter cured Eneas of the palsy, is now but a poor village, though conspicuous from a distance, by the lofty minaret of its mosque. Near this mo.sque are the ruins of the magnificent church of St. George, frequently mentioned with admir- ation by the writer.^- on the Crusades and the early travellers. Upon the road between Ramlah and Jerusalem there occur numerous places which mark the sites of localities often 'referred to in the Bible, and hence possessed of un- dying interest. Amongst these arc the village of Beitoor, I !■ Si. : .1 lOO THK HILLS OF JUD.*:A. t -I' which represent the Upper and Lower Bethoron ; Yalo^ the ancient Ajaion ; El-Jib, the Gibeon of sacred narra- tive ; and numerous others. Many of these places are now, however. whijUy witliout inhabitants, and the entire tract of country — thouqh containing the principal line of approach to the sacr<>d city, Jerusalem — is, like most other parts of Palestine, infested by parties of wandcrin<:j and predatory Arabs. In about two hours and a half after we left Ramlah we entered the mountain scenery of the hill country of Juda;a. For some time before we reached the moun- tains we kept lookinj^ up at their dusky sides, as they rose in towerini^ (grandeur to the height of about a thou- sand or fifteen hundred feet above our heads ; they were v-ovcred with burnt grass, here and there disclosing strips ot the bare horizontal rock, and diversified with a few bushy trees that stood at very forlorn and unfriendly distances from each other. Having entered the moun- tain defile, we moved along a deep and most comfort- less track, covered with large and sharp stones, some- time down a steep and almost precipitous descent, which obliged us to alight and lead our mules, and at other times along the dry ar.vi stony bed of a winter tor- rent, which we had to cross and recross half a dozen times in the course of a hundred yards ; while at other times we climbed a heavy and lengthened ascent, with only a few shrubs between us and the edge of the preci- pice. Thus we continued ascending and descending, one while round the projecting base of the mountain, another while winding in the hollow curve formed by their circular edges, till about one o'clock, when we arrived at a well of good water, beside a ruined edifice that seemed to have been erected as a military station to guard the pass. The hills from the commencement of the mountain- scenery are all of a round and handsome shape, meeting in the base and separated at the tops, not in peaks or pointed acuminations, but like the gradual retiring of two round balls, placed in juxta-position. Their sides are partially covered with earth, which nourishes a roi APPROACHING JERUSALEM. i:* feeble sprinkling of grass, witii here and there a dwarf tree or solitary shrub. They are not susceptible of cultivation, except on the very summit, where we saw the plough going in several places. They might be terraced, but we saw no traces of their having been .so. The features of the whole scenery brought strongly to our recollection the ride from Sanquhar to Leadhill.s, in Scotland ; and to those who have visited that interest- ing part of our natire country, we can assure them, the comparison gives a favorable representation of the hills of Judaea. Pa.ssing through a country of this description, the traveller at length reaches that great object of the pil- grim in the East, the Holy City, Jerusalem, V "It. f. ink- .,■'■ 41iU l-l ■ '. !■. ■ li'il M ' ; Bt! JERUSALEM. CHAPTER I!. Ml h !. I I' ■ r ,< i; A HIRDS-EYE VIEW OK THE HOLV CITY. Were an unreflecting^ reader to take up various books of travels and turn to their descriptions of Jeru- salem, he could scarcely fail to be much puzzled at the pipes or gutters. The greater number of those used in the present day are probably of ancient construction, being excavated in the limestone rock on which the city n ': i ^' 11 n 114 POPULATION OF JERUSALEM. In i ;s'l '1 ? |i u is built. A large number of the houses are in a delapi- dated and ruinous state, and habitations which have a respectable appearance from the street are often found, upon entering them, to be little better than heaps of ruins. The inhabitants of Jerusalem are estimated to amount to 14,000 in number, of which about 6,000 are Mohammedans, about 4,000 Jews, and 4,000 Christians. Jerusalem is entered by four gates, which face the cardinal points. That on the north side is called the Damascus Gate ; that on the eastern side of the city is St. Stephen's Gate ; to the east, the Zion Gate ; and on the western side, the Jaffa (late. The interior of the city is distinguished according to the different portions which its inhabitants respectively occupy, as the Mo- hammedan, Christian, Armenian, and Jewish quarters. The Armenian quarter is to the south-west, the Jewish quarter to the south-eastward, and the Christian quarter to the north-west. The Mahommedans occupy the remaining and larger (quarter of the city. It will be interesting to compare with the above the account which Josephus gives ot the ancient city, which, as we have said, was of larger extent than modern Jeru- salem. " The city of Jerusalem," says the accurate Jew, " is fortified with three walls on such parts as are not encom- passed with impiussable valleys ; for in such places it has but one wall. The city was built upon two hills, which are opposite to one another, and have a valley dividing them asunder, at which valley the correspond- ing rows of houses on both hills termirite. Of these hills, that which contains the upper city is much the higher, and in length more direct ; according it was called the Citadel by King David ; he was the father of that Solomon who built this Temple at the first ; but it is by us called the Upper Market-place. But the other hill, which was called Acra, and sustains the lower city, is of the shape of the moon when she is gibbous. Over against this there was a third hill, naturally lower than Acra, and parted formerly from the other by a broad valley. However, in those times when the Asmoneans MONKISH TRADITIONS. 115 reigned, they filled up that valley with earth, and had a mind to join the city to the Temple. They then took ort* part of the height of Acra, and reduced it to be of less elevation than it was before, that the Temple might be superior to it. Now the Valley of the Cheese- mongergs, as it was called, and was that which we be- fore told you distinguished the hill of the upper city from that of the lower, extended as far as Siloam ; for that is the name of a fountain which hath sweet water in it, and that, t.^ \ in great plenty. But on the outside these hills are surrounded by deep valleys, and, by reason of the precipices on both sides, are everywhere impassable." It is to be lamented that the inherent and inevitable difficulty of identifying sites which the events formerly enacted or the structures formerly standing upon them render so interesting alike to our feelings and to our imagination, is still further increased and complicated by the countless monkish traditions which prevail throughout the Holy Land. In many of those cases where the monks pretend to show, with circumstantial minuteness, the exact scenes of sacred events, (even to their smallest details.) there exists abundant internal proof of the absurdity as well as the effrontery of the assertions. One of the first places, for instance, to which the devout or curious traveller is conducted is a spacious grotto situated at a short distance from the Damascus Gate, and on the northern side of the Holy City. This grotto, or cave, is boldly affirmed to have been the abode of the prophet Jeremiah, and the travel- ler's attention is especially directed to a shelving projec- tion of rock, at about eight feet from the ground. This is positively affirmed to have been the prophet's bed, and supposing the groti > to have been his abode, such would not improbably have been the use made of the rocky shelf in question. But there is not a tittle of evi- dence to support either assertion. In this case, how- ever — as, indeed, in respect of every locality in the Holy Land — there can be but little doubt that each site and object pointed out is .deserving of attention and regard, kl hi 1 ■ H ii6 SEPULCHRE OF THE KINGS. H ^1 '. though perhaps not in connection with the person or the event with whom or with which the monks so boldly and so positively claim connection for it. Limited as the Holy Land is, when compared to the number and the vastness of the events of its history, it may reasonably be affirmed that there can be but few sites and still fewer objects which are not, in fact, con- nected with some hallowed name or with some striking event ; and it is especially to be remarked that, as in the alleged abode of Jeremiah, many of the objects which are venerated by the Christians are held in equal veneration by both Jews and Turks — a pretty sure proof that, however old traditions may have been warped or misinterpreted by modern error or by modern fraud, such objects have been traditionally handed down to our venerition or attention. The j^reat dani^er alike of the reader and of the traveller is that of yielding too implicit a belief to the over precise statements which monkish and other guides make, but which, in many cases they do not, because they cannot, support by a particle of reasonable evidence. The grottos which are so numerous throughout the Holy Land, and more especially in the vicinity of Jerusalem, are favorite places of monkish, and general- ly unauthenticated, identification. Some of the mo.st remarkable of these are the grottos famous as the Sepulchres of the Kings. In most cases there is but one difficulty in which we are placed by the positive nomenclature of the monks and other guides ; we only wonder how they can be bold enough not only to assert, but also to call upon us to believe, statements which, positive as they are, rest upon no sort of authori- ty, and, indeed, are in many cases obviously incorrect. But in the case of the Sepulchres of the Kings we have a double difficulty to deal -with ; of what kings were these caves or grottos the sepulchres.? Of the burial- places of the kings of Israel and of Judah we have pre- cise information from the Scriptures, and we are quite sure that these grottos ^re not their sepulchres. On the other hand, that they were sepulchres is quite p ■> l', i INTERIOR OF THE SEPULCHRES. 117 certain, and from their magnitude we may readily sup- pose them to have been appropriated as the last resting places of royal mortality. And it is not easy to imagine why they have been called the Sepulchres of the Kings, were there not some foundation for the title. Maun- drell suggested that here, probably, were buried Hezc- kiah. and also the sons of David, spoken of in 2 Chron. xxxii. 33 : Chateaubriand thought that Herod the tetrarch might have been their occupant. The tombs of the Kings lie on the northern side of the city, at a distance of nine hundred yards from the Damascus gate, and nearly at the head of the Valley of Jehoshaphat. Whoever was buried here, this is certain, that the place itself discovers so great an expense of both labor and treasure, that we may well suppose it to have been the work of kings. You approach it on the east side through an entrance cut out of the natural rock, which admits you into an open court of about forty paces square, cut down into the rock, with which it is encompassed instead of walls. On the south side of the court is a portico, nine paces long and four broad, hewn likewise out of the natural rock. There is a kind of architrave running along its front, adorned with sculpture of fruits and flowers, still discernible but much defaced by time. At the end of the portico, on the left hand, you descend to the passage into the sepulchres. The door is now so obstructed with stones and rubbish, that it is a thing of some difficulty to creep through it; but, within, you arrive in a large fair room, about seven or eight yards square, cut out of the natural Tock. Its sides and ceiling are so exactly square, and its angles so just, that no architect with levels and plummets could build a room more regular ; and the whole is so firm and entire, that it may be called a chamber hollowed out of one piece of marble. l">om this room you pass into six more, one within another, all of the same fabric with the first. Of these the two innermost are deeper than the rest, having a second descent into them of about six or seven steps. In every one of these rooms, except the first, were l! -i I: ii (!tl I ill f h.U ■ :t i iji I ^ ^' I'i 118 A REMARKABLE DOOR. coffins of stone, placed i.i niches in the sides of the chambers. They had been, at first covered with hand- some Hds, and carved with garlands ; but now most of them were broken to pieces by .sacrilegious hands. The sides and ceilings of the rooms were always dropping, with the damps condensing upon them. To remedy which nuisance, and to preserve these chambers of the dead clean, there was in each room a small channel cut in the floor, which served to drain the drops that fell constantly into it. But the most surprising thing be- longing to these subterraneous chambers was the door, (for there was but one remaining,) being left hanging as it were on purpose to puzzle the beholders. It consisted of a plank of stone of about six inches in thickness, and in its other dimensions equalling the size of an ordinary door, or somewhat less. It was carved in such a man- ner as to resemble a piece of wainscot ; the stone of which it was made was evidently of the same kmd w ith the whole rock ; and it turned upon two hinges in the nature of axles. These hinges were of the same entire piece of stone with the door, and were contained in two holes of tl J immovable rock, one at the top, the other at the bottom. From this description it is obvious to start a ques- tion — how were such doors as these made } Whether they were cut out of the rock, in the same place and manner as they now hang ? or whether they were brought and fixed in their station, like other doors? One of these must be supposed to have been done, and whichsoever part we choose as most probable, it seems, at the first glance, not to be without its difficulty. But thus nmch I have to .say for the resolving of this riddle, (which is wont to create no small dispute among pil- grims), viz., that the door which was left hanging did not touch its lintel by at least two inches, so that I believe it might easily have been lifted up and un- hinged. And the doors which had been thrown down had their hinges at the upper end twice as long as those at the bottom ; which seems to intimate pretty plainly by what method this work was accomplished. '■i;;,, EASTERN Carving and sculpture. 119 From these sepulchres we returned towards the city again, and just by Herod's Gate were shown a grotto full of. filthy water and mire. This passes for the dun- geon in which Jeremiah was kept by Zedekiah, till enlarged by the charity of Ebed Melech. (Jer. xxxviii.) Dr. Clarke compares these sepulchres to the subter- ranean chambers which are found lying westward of Alexandria, in Egypt, and which arc known as the Sepulchres of the Ptolemies. " Each chamber," says that intelligent traveller, '* contains a certain number of receptacles for dead bodies, not being much larger than our coffins, but having the more regular form of oblong parallelograms ; thereby differing from the usual ap- pearance presented by the sepulchral crypts of this country, where the soros, although of the same form, is generally of very considerable size, and resemble a large cistern. The taste that is manifested in the interior of these chambers seems to denote a later period in the history of the arts ; the skill and neatness visible in the carving are admirable. We observed also some slabs of marble, exquisitely sculptured ; these we had never ob- served in the burial places before mentioned," — i. e., the Sepulchres of the Ptolemies. Speaking of some of the smaller chambers or recesses which are entered from the first great chambers. Dr. Clarke says, " In one of these we found the lid of a white marble coffin ; this was entirely covered with the richest and most beautiful sculpture ; but, like all the other sculptured work about the place, it represented nothing of the human figure, nor of any animal, but consisted entirely of foliage and flowers, and principally of the leaves and branches of the vine." From the Sepulchres of the Kings the traveller is usually taken to the celebrated mosque of Omar, a building so splendid and adorned with such lavish cost- liness, that it would be highly interesting even had it not the additional recommendation of being reputed to stand upon the exact site of Solomon's Temple. The second Temple, it is reasonably conjectured, was not pi'lled down, and it may consequently be supposed that S hi'. aa i I20 A PROPHECY FULFILLED. . '> ,! ! 'I m Herod the Great did not entirely rebuild it^ but merely- made repairs and extensive additions. These additions^, however, must have been immense, if Josephus is correct in saying that eleven thousand laborers were employed upon the works for nine years. But, vast and apparent- ly time-defying as the Temple was thus rendered, our Savior said of it to his disciples, " See ye not all these things .-* Verily I say unto you, There shall not be one stone left here upon another that shall not be thrown THE MOSQUF, OF OMAR, JERUSALEM, Containing the Holy Stone brought by Mahomet from Mecca. down." (Matt. xxiv. 2.) And this prophecy, which to the proud and unbelieving Jews seemed like an actual blasphemy, was literally fulfilled, for the Roman Titus, when he took Jerusalem after its memorably long and terrible resistance, ordered his fierce legions to dig up the very foundations of both the city and the Temple, and so exactly and ruthlessly were his orders obeyed, that the general, Terentius Rufus, actually drove a ploughshare over the ground on which the magnificent Temple had stood. I MOSLEM BELIEF. 121 The site remained a waste, strewed here and there with ruins, till the taking of Jerusalem by the caliph Omar, A. D. 637. Proud of his conquest, and anxious to commemorate it by building a noble mosque, Omar, we arc told by an Arabian writer, desired the " patriarch Sophronius to indicate the most suitable site for that purpose, and the patriarch pointed out the site of Solo- mon's Temple. To the costly but comparatively small mosque which Omar built there, very extensive addi- tions were made by the caliph Abd-el-Malek, who enclosed the rocky site — Mount Moriah — with a wall. The succeeding caliph, El-Walid, made still further additions and greatly embellished the mosque, especially with a gilt copper dome, of which he plundered a church at Baalbec. When Jerusalem was taken by the crusad- ers they converted this mosque into a Christian church ; but when the Sultan Saladin in his turn become master of Jerusalem he restored the vast and costly structure to its original Mohammedan uses and character. There is, probably, no one point upon which the religious predilections of the Moslem world are so jealously exclusive as upon that of admitting Christians into the city of Mecca, or into the mosque of Omar. Armed with a government^ nnafi, or order, the Christian who visits Constantinople finds no difficulty in making his way into any of the mosques, not even that of St. Sophia ; but no Mussulman official, however latitudin- arian in his belief, or however desirous to oblige an individual, would venture so to brave the fury of the Mussulman rabble as to give a Christian an order for admittance to the mosque of Omar, Such an order would probably cause an actual revolt against the offi- cial granting it; and it certainly would be no protection to the Christian bearer of it, who would in all humaa probability be torn to pieces in defiance of it. The monk Father Roger, who visited Jerusalem, and who professed to have made his way into the Temple by dint of stratagem, accounts thus for tlie singular unwill- ingness of the Mussulmans to allow a Christian to enter this mosque. He states that the Turks are firmly per- ^' ^ llil ' I: 122 AREA OF OMAR'S MOSQUE. : ■ 1 m' MM- ;i;'i: ! suaded that were a Christian to gain access to the court of the Temple, God would grant whatever prayers he might offer up there, even zvere he to pray that Jerusalem may fall into the /lands of the Christians. So firmly are they persuaded of this, that, not contented with de- nouncing the penalty of being burned alive or embracing Mohammedanism against any Christian entering even the court of the Temple, they keep, it seems, a mos; jealous and constant guard to prevent such an intrusion. Within a more recent period, however, the external appearance, at least, of this sanctuary of the Moham- medan world has become better known to Europeans. The Haram, or outer court of the mosque, has been elaborately surveyed. The entire area of the sacred enclosure was found to exhibit the following dimen- sions: The length of the east wall is 1520 feet, of the south wall 940 feet, of the west wall 161 7 feet, and of the north wall 1020 feet. A good view of the whole area, with the sacred edifices which it encloses, is ob- tained from the roof of the governor's house, closely adjoining, and access to which is readily granted on a proper application. Dr. Richardson from whom we have already quoted, really did enter the mosque, and to his courage and in- telligence we owe the best account which we have hitherto 'received of the interior of that famous edifice. Besides his connexion with a distant English party. Dr. Richardson had the advantage of being a physician, a character to which the Turks attach a sort of sanctity, admitting the Christian physician even to their harems, into which it would be certam death for any other man, even if a Mohammedan, to make his way. The ignor- ance of the native and Jewish physicians necessarily renders the superior skill of the European a matter of absolute marvel to the Turks, and, as Dr. Richardson himself remarks, " Both Turks and Arabs, and even Oriental Christians, are perfect gluttons in physic, and place greater confidence in its wonder-working powers than the more enlightened people in Europe are dis- posed to do." It sqems that when Dr. Richardson was CLANDESTINE ENTRANCE INTO THE TEMPLE. 1 23 at Jerusalem, the Capo-Verde, i. e. the Green Turban, or Mohammedan primate of that city, was not a jot behind the rest of his compatriots in his love of physic and in his veneration of the character of the physician ; and he thence conceived so great a friendship for the Doctor, that though even he dared not openly give him admission to the Temple, he not only connived at, but facilitated, his clandestine entrance in disguise. All the arrangements having been made for the Doctor's bold, because really perilous, enterprise, he doffed his white burnouse and arrayed himself in a black abba belonging to his friend the Capo- Verde, and, thus dis- guised, and preceded by a black interpreter, he boldly ascended the south side of Mount Moriah, passed the Cadi's house, and entered the Haram Shereef, or noble palace of religious retirement, which title includes the whole enclosed space by which the mosque is surround- ed. Within this enclosure, and immediately surrouding the Sakhara, or mosque, there is a stoa, not, as the name would lead us to anticipate, a covered porch, but a rais- ed platform paved with fine marble ; crossing this plat- form the Doctor and his black interpreter and guide speedily reached the door of the mosque, and we shall low give the Doctor's account of his visit in his own graphic language. A gentle knock brought up the sacristan, who, hav- ing been apprized of our visit, was waiting to receive us. He demanded, rather sternly, who we were, and was answerd by my black conductor in tones not less con- sequential than his own. The door immediately edged up, to prevent as much as possible the light from shin- ing out, and we squeezed ourselves in, with a light 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 this building ; pointing, in the pride of his heart, to the elegant marble walls, the beautifully gilded ceiling, the well at which the true worshippers drink and wash, with which we M: m '• il !•• :! iii'^l i 124 MAHOMET'S SHIELD. also blessed our palates and moistened our beards, the paltry reading-desk, with the ancient Koran, the hand- some columns, and the green stones with the wonderful nails. As soon as we had completed this circuit, pull- ing a key from his girdle, he unlocked the door of the railing which separates the outer from the inner part of the mosque, which, with an elevation of two or three steps, led us into the sacred recess. Here he pointed out the patches of Mosaic work in the floor, and 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 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. Sakhara, or the Locked-up ; (over it is suspended a fine cloth of green and red satin, but this was so covered with dust that, but for the information of my guide, I should not have been able to tell the composing colors ;) and, finally, he pointed to the door that leads into the small cavern below, of which he had not then the key. We reviewed a second time the interior of the build- ing, drank of the well, counted the remaining nails in the green stone, as well as the empty holes ; then, having put a dollar into the hands of the sacristan, which he grasped very hard with his fist, while he obsti- nately refused it with his tongue, we hied us out of the gate of paradise, Bab-el-Jenne, and, having made the exterior circle of the mosque, we passed by the judg- ment-seat of Solomon, and descended from the Stoa Sakhara by another flight of steps into the outer field of this elegant enclosure. Here we put on our shoes, and, turning to the left, walked through the trees, that were but thinly scattered in the smootii, grassy turf, to a house that adjoins the walls of the enclosure, which in this place is also the wall of the city, and which is said to contain the throne of King Solomon. Here there was no admittance, and from this we proceeded to a stair which led up to the top of the wall, and sat down THE SAKHARA. 125 upon the stone on which Mahomet is to sit at the day of judgment, to judge the re-embodied spirits assemb'.sd beneath him in the Valley of Jehoshaphat. Descending from this seat of tremendous anticipation, which, if Mahomet ' 'ere made of flesh and blood, would be as trying to him as his countenance would be alarming to the re-embodied spirits, we walked along the front of El-Aksa, the other mosque, which occupies the side, as the Sakhara does the centre, of the enclosure, and arrived at another fountain, where we again washed our beards and tasted the water. This sacred enclosure is the sunny spot of Moslem devotion. There is no sod like that whicb covers the ample area of its contents, and no mosqut ..t all com- parable to the Sakhara. Here the god of day pours his choicest rays in a flood of light that, streaming all around upon the marble pavement, mingles its softened tints in the verdant turf, and leaves nothing to compare with or to desire beyond. It seems as if the glory of the Temple still dwelt upon the mosque, and the glory of Solomon still covered the site of his ^I'emple. But the great beauty of the whole enclosure is the Sakhara itself, which is nearly in the middle of the platform, and but a little removed from the south side ; it is a regular octagon of about 60 feet a side, and is entered by four spacious doors. Each of these doors is adorned with a porch, which projects from the line of the build- ing, and rises considerably up on the wall. The lower story of the Sakhara is faced with marble, the blocks of which are of different size.\ and many of them evident- ly resting on the side or narrowest surface. They look much older on a close inspection than they do when viewed from a distance, and their disintegration indi- cates a much greater age than the houses said to have been built in the time of the mother of Constantine the Great ; and probably both they and the aged stones in the flooring of the Stoa Sakhara formed part of the splendid temple that was destroyed by the Romans. Each side of the Sakhara is panelled ; the centre stone of one panel is square, of another octagonal, and thus !: 1 M\ f 1 126 IN'-ERIOR OF THE SAKHARA. 1,: 4-\ ' ii P they alternate all round ; the sides of each panel run- down the angles of the building like a plain pilaster, and give the appearance of the whole side of the edifice being set in a frame. The marble is white, with a con- siderable tinge of blue, and square pieces of blue marble are introduced in different places, so as to give the whole a pleasing effect. There are no windows in the marble part, or lower story of the building. The upper story of this elegant building is faced with small tiles of about eight or nine inches square ; they are painted of different colors, white, yellow, green, and blue, but blue prevails throughout. They are said to be covered with sentences from the Koran ; though of this fact I could not be certain, on account of the height and my imper- fect knowledge of the character. There are seven well- proportioned windows on each side, except where the porch rises high, and then there are only six, one of which is generally built up, so that only five are effec- tive. The whole is extremely light and beautiful, and from the mixture of the soft colors above, and the panelled work and blue and white tinge of the marble below, the eye is more delighted with beholding it than any building 1 ever saw. The admiration excited by the appearance of the exterior was not diminished by a view of the interior, the arrangements of which are so managed as to pre- serve throughout the octagonal form, agreeble to the ground plan of the building. The in«ide of the wall is white, without any ornament ; and I confess I am one of those who think ornaments misplaced in a house of prayer, or anything tending to distract the mind when it comes there to hold converse with its God. The floor is of grey marble, and was then much covered with dust, from some repairs that were being executed on the dome. A little within the north door, there is a flat pol- ished slab of green marble, which foms part of the floor. It is about fourteen inches square, and was originally pierced by eighteen nails, which would have kept their places but for the amazing chronometrical A MAGICAL STONE. 127 virtuq^ with which they were endowed. F^or such is their magical temper, that they either hold or quit, according to the times ; and on the winding up of each great and cardinal event a nail has regularly been removed to mark its completion ; and so many of these signal periods have already rolled by, each clenched by an accompanying nail, that now only three and a half remain, fourteen and a half being displaced in a super- natural manner. It is recondite matter, known only to the wise in wonders, how the nails got into the stone, as how they got out of it. Thus much, however, the hiero- phants vouchsafed to communicate, that, when all the nails shall have made their escape, all the events con- tained in the great map of time will then have been unfolded, and there will then be an end of the world, or nothing but a dull monotonous succession till the final consummation of all things. My conductor also gravely informed me that underneath this stone Solomon the son of David lies buried. All of which solemn nonsense it was proper for me to hear, without appearing to doubt eitli »- the information or the source from which it came. There are four large square columns, one opposed to each alternate angle of the building, and three small round columns between each of them. Their base rests upon an elevation of the floor, and they are capitalled and surmounted with arches, the same as in the outer row; this inner row of columns supports the dome. The intercolumnal space is occupied by a high iron railing, so tiiat all entrance to the holy stone, or center of the mosque, is completely shut up, except by one door, which is open only at certain hours for the pur- poses of devotion. This central compartment is elevated about three feet above the outer floor, and the ascent to it is by a flight of four steps. On entering along with the Turks, we there found several rather shabbily-dressed and ill- looking people engaged in their devotions. One of them was a female, of a mean, rustic appearance, and so extremely stupid that she was praying with her face to the west, which so provoked one of my conductors that 128 HADIR EL SAKHARA. he went and raised her up from her knees, and, leaving given her a hearty scolding, turned her round and made her pray with her face to the south, which she did very obediently and without any demur. Within this row of columns the floor is also paved with white marble, and the blue and white columns are so mixed, as, in some places, to form a sort of mosaic. Proceeding on to the right, we came to a round flat stone of polished marble, which is raised high, and attached to the side of one of the square columns. This stone, I was informed, the Prophet carried on his arm in battle. It is a ponderous and very unlikely shield. It is broken through the middle, probably by a blow aimed at its master by an infidel hand. Opposite to this, and on the end of the Holy Stone, which I am about to describe, there is a high square wooden box, with an opening on one side of it large enough to admit the hand to feel the print of Mahomet's foot, which he left there either when he prayed or when he flew up to heaven. I put in my hand and touched it, to stroke my face and beard, as I saw the Mussulmans do. It is so completely covered that it cannot be seen. But that to which this temple owes its name — El Sakhara, the Locked-up, — and its existence, is a large irregular oblong mass of stone that occupies the renter of the mosque. It is a mass of compact limestone, the same as that of the rock on which the city stands, and of the other mountains about Jerusalem ; and if I had not been told that it is a separate stone, I should have imagined it to be a pi'^'t of the native rock that had been left un removed when the other parts were levelled down for the foundation of the building. 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 railing about four feet high, and which in every place is almost in contact with the stone. I have already mentioned that there is a large cover of vari- ously-colored satin suspended over it, and nothing can A LEGEND. 129 be helu in greater veneration than the Hadir el Sakhara, or, the locked-up stone. This stone has other weighty pretensions to the veneration of the Mohaiiynedans than the print of the angel Gabriel's fingers or the Prophet's foot ; for, like the palladium of ancient Troy, it fell from heaven, and lighted on this very spot, at the time that prophecy commenced in Jerusalem. Here the ancient prophets sat, and prophesied, and prayed ; and as long as the spirit of vaticination continued to visit the holy men in the Holy City, the stone remained quiet for their accommodation ; but when prophecy ceased, and the persecuted seers girded up their loins and fled, the stone, ouj; of sympathy, wished to accompany them ; but the angel Gabriel interposed his friendly aid, and grasping the stone with a mighty hand, arrested its flight, and nailed it to its rocky bed until the arrival of Mahomet, who, horsed on the lightning's wing, flew thither from Mecca, joined the society of seventy thou- sand ministering angels, and having offered up his devo- tions to the throne of God, fixed the stone immoveably in this holy spot, around which the caliph Omar erected the present elegant structure. The wall of the dome is round, and the sides of the perpendicular part of it are faced up with blue, green, white and yellow painted tiles, the same as the upper part of the building. Blue is the prevailing color. It is divided into alternate compartments of close and reticu- lated work ; and is covered in at the top with lead, the same as the roof of the building. Living the Sakhara, we proceeded to the Mosque el Aksa, the name given to the other house of devotion contained within this sacred enclosure ; though a fine and very elegant mosque in the interior, it is greatly inferior to it in beauty and sanctity. It is also called the Mosque of the Women, because it contains a separ- ate place that is assigned to them for prayer ; and Djamai Omar, or the Mosque of the Caliph Omar, who used to pray in it. The place in which he performed his devotions is still exhibited. This was anciently a ;{ i li-H I30 THE THREE CROSSES. Ipf- » m ay, 'n church, and, in the Christian days of the Holy City, was called the Church of the Presentation, meaning thereby of the infant Jesus ; or, the Church of the Purification, meaning thereby, of the Virgin Mary. A narrow aisle on the right, off the body of the church, is shown as the place where she presented her Son in the Temple. The mosque is in the shape of a long square, and would answer very well for a Christian church at present, were it not for the superabundance* of columns in the interior, which assimilate it more into an Egyptian temple. The Church of the Holy Sepulchre, one of the very numerous buildings which the Holy Land owes to the sincere but not always very enlightened piety of the Empress Helena, the mother of Constantine, gonsists of three distinct compartments, each of which is a separate church or chapel of considerable beauty and tastefuln^iss of design. One of these is called the Church of the Three Crosses, it being alleged that three were miracu- lously found there. Far more authentic objects of curiosity and interest in this church, however, were two stone coffins, supported upon pillars. These, which con- tained the mortal remains of Godfrey and Baldwin, the Latin kings of Jerusalem, were entire at the time of the visit of Chateaubriand, who saw and described them ; but they have been so completely destroyed by the Greeks, that not a vestige of them is now to be seen. Of the other two churches or chapels, one is that of the Holy Sepulchre, properly so called, the other that of Calvary, in which the rock appears with a rent or fissure sai 1 to have been caused by the awful earthquake in the dread day of the Crucifixion. In small side-chapels or apartments along the walls of these churches, the Greeks, Latins, Armenians, Maronites, etc., have their places] of peculiar worship ; and painful are the scenes of fraud and violence to which the rivalries and cupidity of these various monks occasionally give rise. The manner in which the anniversary of the Resurrection is celebrated by the Greeks, that being one of several semi-dramatic celebrations by which the Greeks, Latins, etc., endeavor to extract coin from the purses of the CELEBRATION OF THE RESURRECTION. credulous is anything but flattering to their religious principles. The rules of this church do not allow of the exhibi- tion of graven images in their worship, but as some visible representation of the body of our Saviour was deemed to be necessary, in the way of either mockery or devotion, one, apparently lifeless, was extended upon a board and was carried around the Sepulchre with a mighty uproar, boys and men going beside it, and strik- ing fire from flint. The ceremony began at about eleven o'clock, when the church was full in every quarter. The conduct of many of the attendants showed that they had entered the holy place in a becoming frame of mind ; these were chiefly females, and sat retired in the different chapels or reces.ses that surrounded the Sepul- chre. The galleries above were also crowded ; many Turkish officers were present. The governor was ex- pected but did not arrive. The mob occupied the body of the place, and their behavior was disorderly in the extreme ; they hallooed and ran about, leaped on one another's shoulders, revelling in the most unseemly manner, more like Bacchanals or unchained maniacs, or a set of rioters at a fair, than celebraters of the resurrec- tion of the blessed Jesus. Numbers of Turkish soldiers were placed in the church to act as constables, and did their best to preserve order and decency ; but not with- standing all their efforts in beating them with clubs and pulling and thrusting them about like so many disor- derly animals, the noise and uproar continued until two o'clock, when the grand quackery of the day began to be played off" by the Greek archbishop of Jerusalem ; for, with all po.ssible respect for his sacred office, I can- not designate him or his exhibition by any other names that will adequately characterize them. The juggle attempted to be played off" is usually denominated the Grecian fire, which, it is pretended, bursts supernatur- ally from the Holy Sepulchre on the anniversary of this day, and at which all tlie pilgrims of this persuasion light their lamps and torches, in the belief that they have thus received fire from heaven. « ;4 i't- 132 CELESTIAL FIRE. Before the ceremony commenced, the higher eccle- siastic entered the sepulchre, and in a short time light was perceived at a small window in its side. Thither all the people crowded in wild disorder, and lighted their torches at the flame, which from the place where they stood — the station of the organ belonging to the Roman Catholic Church — was distinctly seen to issue from a burning body, placed on the lower part of the window, within the tomb. This, when some of the wicks were of difficult access, was raised up and pushed nearer ; at othei* times the flame was lowered down, and was out of sight, intimating that Heaven required to draw its breath, and the fire to receive a new supply of combustible materials ; when again raised up it burned with greater brilliancy, and on becoming fainter was again lowered down as before, which showed that though the priests intended to be very artful, they, in fact, were very ignorant ; for I am sure there is not a pyrotechnist in London who would not have improved the exhibition. Thus, however, they continued, raising the light when strong, and lowering it when it became faint, till all the torches were lighted. No one, like the Druids of old, dared light his torch at that of another ; all behoved to be regularly set on fire from the flame from the window, otherwise they were held in detestation all the year round. As soon, however, is this illumination was accomplished, the bishops ana priests sallied forth from the tomb, and being joined by the other ecclesiastics, who were waiting without in their canonicals, and with torches in their hand.s, arranged themselves according to the precedency of their churches, Greeks, Armenians, etc., and marched thrice around the church, bearing their flaming torches high above their heads. The effect was particularly brilliant, especially when they passed down or came up from encompassing the Greek chapel. By this time the torches had either burnt out or extin- guished, and here the ceremony closed. The priests laid aside their robes and their torches, and the public dis- persed, more convinced of anything, if they reasoned at 'm ■'! ■\ *. VIA DOLOROSA. 133 all, thai! of the celestial origin of the fire by which their torches had been lighted up. Can we wonder that monotheistical Moslems deride the devotion of the Christians, insult them to their faces, and call them dogs and idolaters } These disgraceful mummeries of the Greek Churchy still continue in undiminished vigor. The miraculous Greek fire, which takes place on the Saturday of the Greek Easter week, serves, in the hands of the Greek and Armenian priests, the same purpose that the keys of Peter do in the hands of his skilful successors, the Popes ; it unlocks every coffer and purse of the pil- grims, and renders them at the disposal of the inventors and perpetrators of this wonder. A long line of street which extends between the Church of the Holy Sepulchre and the eastern gate of the city is called the Via Dolorosa, and is represented by the monks as marking the road along which Christ was led to crucifixion. That portion of Mount Zion which is now within the walls is occupied with the Armenian convent, to- gether with its church and gardens. Here, too, is now found a Protestant church, the foundations of which were laid a few years since, a short distance to the northward of the Armenian convent. 1 ! i ' ii 'ill ''■'■ III .• !, ^V Ii , *..', CHAPTER IV. JERUSALEM AND ITS VICINITY. Leaving Jerusalem for the Valley of Jehoshaphat, the traveller, on nearing St. Stephen's gate, reaches what is supposed — though not on indisputable ground — to be the remains of the pool of Bethesda, the dimen- sions, according to Dr. Robinson, being 360 feet in length, 1 30 feet in width, and 75 feet in depth. Descending from St. Stephen's gate into the valley, the famed brook Kidron (or Cedron) presents itself. It is but a few paces across, and for three-fourths of the year is dry ; though from the depth of its bed it would seem to have been formerly supplied with waters from .some sources now dried up or diverted. The brook runs along the Valley of Jehoshaphat to the south- eastern corner of the city, where it takes a south-east- wardly direction to Lhe Dead Sea. A short distance to the south-eastward of St. Stephen's gate, a small bridge crosses the valley of the Kidron ; passing over this bridge and descending some steps, we reach a subterranean church ; a cavern of considerable height and extent, which bears the name of the Sepulchre of the Blessed Virgin, though there is entire absence of anything like historic proof that it really merits that appellation. It is reached by a flight of marble steps, each of which is twenty feet wide ; the number of these steps is forty-seven. The supposed tombs of Anna, St. Joachim, and Joseph, are also con- tained within its precincts. Proceeding along the valley towards the foot of Mount Olive we reach the garden of Gethsemanc, which is a square plot of ground, not more than fifty- seven yards square, in which are some ver"^ ancient olive trees, supposed to shade the spot to which (John xviii. I, 2) our Saviour was wont to retire in meditation. The garden is surrounded by a wall of dry stone, of SEPULCHRES OF THE PATRIARCHS. 135 irregular form. Olive trees also occur in some of the ?,djoining plots of ground. Some distance lower down the valley, and amongst the rocks upon its eastern side, are four excavations known as the Sepulchres of the Patriarchs ; which are also known, severally, as the Sepulchres of Jehoshaphat, of Absalom, of St. James, and of Zachariah. But we may reject the legends of the monks, and those legends are contradicted by the style of architecture, so different from that of the early periods of Jewish antiquity. The architecture, in fact, is Grecian, and we think that the nearest approximation to truth is that the mausoleums were erected about the time of the alliance between the Jews and the Lacedaemonians, under the first Macca- bees. The Doric order was still prevalent in Greece ; the Corinthian did not supplant it until half a century later, when the Romans began to overrun Peloponnesus and Asia. In naturalizing at Jerusalem the architec- ture of Corinth and Athens, the Jews intermixed it with the forms of their peculiar style. The tombs in the Valley of Jehoshaphat, and the sepulchres of the kings to the north of the city, display an obvious alliance of the Egyptian and Grecian taste ; from which alliance proceeded a heterogeneou- kind of monuments, forming a sort of link between the Pyramids and the Parthenon. These remarks, at once acute and reasonable, may be supplemented by observing that the columns are of the same antique style which still appears in the architec- tural remains of the Ionian and Dorian cities of Asia, and more especially at Telmessus. Proceeding further to the southward, along the val- ley of the Kidron, the traveller reaches a fountain which bears the name of the Blessed Virgin ; and the monks, who must have a legend for everything, add that the Virgin used this fountain to wash the linen of our Savior. It might perhaps be that this was really the ancient fountain of Siloah, which was so far under the hill that it could not be commanded in time of war by such as were not masters of that part of the city. This fountain seems to have flowed into a basin called 8 m ill IP 136 THE POTTER'S FIELD. "i the Pool of Siloam. Passing the fountain, we speedily enter a narrow valley between the mounts Zion and Moria. This is called the Valley of Mills, and, passing up a sort of ravine, ascending to the city walls, we reach, at about a hundred yards distance, the Pool of Siloam. The water of this latter fountain — " Siloa's brook, that flowed Fast by the oracles of God " — is the same as that of the so-called Fountain of the Virgin, from which it is distant only i lOO feet. A sub- terranean channel (which we fully explored) connects the two. It has a peculiar taste, sweetish, and very slightly brackish, but not at all disagreeable, and is in common use among the people of the adjacent village of Siloam, upon the opposite side of the valley of the Kidron. This village consists of a series of grottoes, some of which are adorned with porches, and all of which, though now the habitations of Arabs, were evi- dently formed for sepulchres ! Near this spot, in the ravine which is by some travellers called the Valley of Hinnom, and on the side of the mountain, is a remarkable burial place, which is known by the various names of the Aceldama, the Campo Santo, and the Potter's Field. Of this place Sandys, in his quaint way, says : " In the midst hereof a large square room was made by the mother of Con- stantine, (the Empress Helena,) the south side walled with the natural rock, flat at the top, and equal (even) with the upper level, out of which arise certain little cupolas, open in the midst to let down the dead bodies. Through these we might see the bof^-om, all covered with bones and certain corpses but newly let down, it being now the sepulchre of the Armenians. A greedy grave, and dark enough to devour the dead of a whole nation ; for they say, and I believe it, that the earth thereof, within the space of eight-and-forty hours, will consume the flesh that is laid therein." Superstition ascribes the like power to the earth of this cavern, which is of oblong ngure, and about twenty-six yards MODE OF BURIAL. 137 in length, twenty in breadth, and about twenty in depth. The dead are buried here as in Naples and in other parts of Italy ; being stripped entirely naked and thrown on each other in heaps ; and having the curiosity to peep in upon that sad mass of mouldering mortality, we saw bodies in various states of decompo- sition, whence it may be inferred that this grave does not make that quick despatch with the cor[)ses com- mitted to it which is commonly reported. Beyond this appropriately named Aceldama, a long series of sepulchres extends along the ravint to the south-west and west of Mount Zion ; they consist, like those in the Valley of Jehoshaphat, of grottoes labori- ■^.\ MOHAMMEDAN FUNERAL PROCESSION. ously excavated in the solid rock. They reminded us of the sepulchres in the ruins of Telmessus, and may be briefly described as a succession of subterranean cham- bers excavated with marvellous art, and each contain- ing one repository, and some several repositories, for the dead, like cisterns carved in the rock upon the sides of these chambers. The doorways of these are so low that it is necessary to enter them stooping, in some cases even upon the hands and knees, and the sides of these doorways are grooved, for the reception of the massive stones with which they were closed, as indipu- tably were the tombs of the sons of Heth, of the kings of Israel, of Lazarus, and of Christ. \:-\ r-ifi I! 538 JEWISH HOMI<:vS. !, . Though we have felt bound to conduct the reader to the more remarkable monuments of Jerusalem, we are not sorry to turn from them to the inhabitants, the most interesting amongst whom, in many respects, are the Jews. Many of the Jews are rich and in comfort- able circumstances, and possess a great deal of property in Jerusalem ; but they are careful to conceal their wealth and even their comfort from the jealous eyes of their rulers, lest, by awakening their cupidity, some vile plot should be devised to their prejudice. In going to visit a respectable Jew in the Holy City, it is a com- mon f' ng to pass to his house over a ruinous fore- groun and up an awkward outside stair, constructed of roi ;h stones that totter under the foot ; but it improves as you ascend, and at the top has a respectable appearance, as it ends in an agreeable platform in front of the house. On entering the house itself, it is found to be clean and well furnished ; the sofas are covered with Persian carpets ; and the people seem happy to receive you. The visitor is entertained ^vith coffee and tobacco, as is the custom in the houses of the Turks and Christians. The ladies presented themselves with an ease and address that surprised me, and recalled to our memory the pleasing society of Europe This difference of manner arises from many of the Jewish families in Jerusalem having resided in Spain or Portugal, where the females had rid them of the cruel domestic fetters of the East, and on returning to their beloved land had very properly retained their acquired freedom and rank in society. They almost all speak a broken Italian, so that conversation goes on without the clumsy aid of an interpreter. It was the feast of the Passover, and they were all eating unleavened bread; some of which was presented to us as a curi- osity, and we partook of it merely that we might have the gratification of eating unleavened bread with the sons and daughters of Jacob in Jerusalem ; it is very insipid fare, and no one would eat it from choice. For the same reason we went to the synagogue, of wbk:h there are two in Jerusalem. The form of worship SYNAGOGUES OF JERUSALEM. 139 is the same as in this country, and in, we believe, every country which the Jews inhabit. The females have a separate part of the synagogue assigned to them, as in the synagogues in Europe, and in the Christian churches all over the Levant, They are not expected to be fre- quent or regular in their attendance on public worship. The ladies generally make a point of going on the Sun- day (that is, the Friday night or Saturday morning) after they are married ; and being thus introduced in their new capacity, once a year is considered as suffi- cient compliance, on their part, with the ancient injunc- tion to assemble in the house of prayer. Like the votaries of Christian establishments, the Jewesses trust more to the prayers of the priests than to their own. The synagogues in Jerusalem are both poor and. small, not owing to the poverty of their possessors, but to the prudential motives before mentioned. The Jewesses in Jerusalem speak in a decided and firm tone, unlike the hesitating and timid voice of the Arab and Turkish Temales, and claim the European privilege of differing from their husbands, and maintain- ing their own opinions. They are fair and good-looking ; red and auburn hair are by no means uncommon in either of the sexes. We never saw any of them with veils, and was informed that it was the general practice of the Jewesses in Jerusalem to go with their faces un- covered ; they are the only females there who do so. Generally speaking, they are, we think, disposed to be rather of a plethoric habit ; and the admirers of size and softness in the fair sex will find as regularly built fiitties with double mouldings in the neck and chin, among the fair daughters of Jerusalem as among the fairer daugh- ters of England. They seem particularly liable to eruptive diseases ; and the want of children is as great a heart-break to them now as it was in the days of Sarah. In passing up to the synagogue we were particularly struck with ti.e mean and wretched appearance of the houses on both sides of the streets, as well as with the poverty of their inhabitants. Some of the old men and ■'. ill '1 ■^1 Ui lii In T^^i^ ; m ' ii ■ ' ■ P 1 1 h B 4 i i in ir 1 H 1 pi '?•'■' f-:i !F in 1,' :Jj1 140 POPULATION. women had more withered and hungry aspects than any of our race we ever saw, with the exception of the cav- erned dames of Gornou, in Egyptian Thebes, who might have sat in a stony field, as a picture of famine, a year after the flood. The sight of a poor Jew in Jerusalem has in it something peculiarlv affecting. The heart of this wonderful people, in whatever clime they roam, still turns to Jerusalem as the city of their promised rest. They take pleasure in her ruins, and would lick the very dust for her sake. Jerusalem is the centre around which the exiled sons of Judah build, in airy dreams, the man- sions of their future greatness. In whatever part of the world he may live, the heart's desire of a Jew is, when gathered to his fathers, to be buried in Jerusalem. Thither they return from Spain and Portugal, from Egypt and Barbary, and other countries among which they have been scattered ; and when, after all their long- ings, and all their struggles up the steeps of life, we see them poor, and blind, and naked, in the streets of their once happy Zion, he must have a cold heart that can remain untouched by their prayers, and refrain from uttering a prayer that the light of a reconciled counten- ance would shine on the darkness of Judah, and the day-star of Bethlehem arise in their hearts. The Jews are the best guides in Jerusalem, because they give the ancient names of places, which the inter- preters belonging to the different convents do not give. But they are not forward in presenting themselves, and must generally be sought. Though Jerusalem, as we have already remarked, has so various a population, each particular people has a quarter or district which it especially affects and al- most exclusively inhabits. Thus the Jews, as we have shown, cluster, as it were, around the edge of Mount Zion ; the Moslems chiefly dwell near and around the sacred enclosure of the Haram ; the Roman Catholics near their convent of St. Salvador, in the north-western corner of the Holy City ; and people of the Greek persuasion near the Syrian Christian convent of Saint John. ARMENIAN CUSTOMS. 141 To estimate accurately so fluctuating a population as that of Jerusalem is by no means an easy matter. The ew banker of the governor stated to us that the male Tews within the city are a thousand in number, and the ' emales about thrice as many ; while Dr. Richardson rates the whole Jewish population at as high as ten thousand and the Moslem and Christian population at only five thousand each. The mean of these estimates is probably nearer the truth, though even this would be considerably in excess of the calculation made by later observers. Next after the Jews and their Turkish rulers, the most remarkable of the inhabitants of Jerusalem are the Ar- menians, inferior in number to the Greeks, but far superior to them both in wealth and influence. They are strong and comely persons, of dignified deportment, and both industrious and civil. There are many of them settled at Jerusalem in comfortable circumstances. Their houses are well kept and well furnished. On visiting them, the stranger is received with a warmth unusual even among the Greeks ; and this cordiality is the more agreeable for being sincere. He is treated with coffee and a pipe of tobacco, a glass of liquor, cakes, biscuits, and various kinds of sweetmeats, which are handed to him by the mistress of the family, her daughter, or servant ; all being usually in attendance, though there should be but one guest to be served. They take the cup or glass from him when he has done with it, and kiss his hands as they receive it. They pour water on his hands for him to wash after he has done eating, and give him a towel on which to dry them ; and receiving which back they again lay hold of the hand and kiss it, and then r'^tire to the station with the servant ntar the door. Mother, daughter, and man-servant, are all alike candidates to take the cup and kiss the hand ; and, in point of etiquette, it matters not to which of them the guest delivers it. They seldom sit down in his presence, and never without much entreaty, even though the state of their health should be such as to render it improper for them to stand ; afraid that by so doing they should 142 TRADE AND MANUFACTURE. I :! be thought deficient in respect to their visitor. The Armenian ladies have a sedale and pleasing manner, ' ^ith much of the Madonna countenance ; their eyes are generally dark, and their complexion florid ; but the> are rarely enriched with that soft, intelligent expression which characterizes the eye of the Greek or the Jewish female. The Abyssinians and Maronites are but few in num- ber, and as for the Copts, their number is so insignifi- cant that they might well be omitted as a distinctive part CI* the population. There is still one remarkable part of the motley population of Jerusalem — the Maugrabins. Of these people, who almost exclusively live in the Harat el Maugrabe (that is, street of the Maugrabins,) we may remark that they are a people of western Barbary ; and some of them are said to be descendants of the Moors, who were driven from Spain by Ferdinand and Isabella. These exiles were charitably received in the Holy City; a mosque was built for their use, and bread, fruit and money are even yet distributed among them. The heirs of those elegant architects of the Alhambra are become porters of Jerusalem, and are much sought after on account of their intelligence, and, as courtiers, are esteemed for their swiftness. What would Saladin and Richard of England say, if, suddenly returning to the world, they were to find t^e Moorish champions trans- formed into the door-keepers of the Holy Sepulchre, and the Christian Knights represented by brethren of the mendicant order ! There is so little either of trade or manufacture in Jerusalem, that a very few lines will suffice for what relates to that subject. The regular and large expendi- ture ot' the monk sand other wealthy residents, greatly increased by the influx of pilgrims, between Christmas and Easter, furnishes the most important source of sub- sistence and profit to the resident traders. Jerusalem has one manuf cture which is greatly in demand, not only for home .ales, but for exportation, via Jafifa to Spain, Portugal, and Italy. The flourishing AMULETS. 143 manufacture in question consists of crucifixes, beads, shells, reliquiaries, and the like matters. The extent to which these are made is immense, and many Jew and Armenian speculators realize large fortunes by export- ing them. The shells — mostly in imitation of the "scallop shell," inseparable from our immemorial notion of the Pilgrim to the Holy Land, — are rudely but in- geniously cut. Sometimes they are fashioned into clasps '"or the zones or waist-belts of the Greek women, and they meet with a ready sale in Cyprus, Rhodes, and other islands of the Archipelago. Strings of beads — no less in u.se among the Moslems than among Catholics — are also very extensively manufactured ; some from date-stones, and others from a very hard wood called Mecca wood, wh'ch, after the beads are made, is dyed red, black, and yellow. Some of these beads are large, but the smaller ones are most in request, and those which are old ar^ preferred to new ones on account of the polish which long use gives to them. Beads and amu- lets against the plague are also manufactured from the limestone of the Dead Sea ; and it is just po.ssible that these amulets may have some power in neutralizing in- fectious miasmata, from the sulphurretted hydrogen which enters into its composition. With but this one manufacture of any noticeable extent, and relying for internal trade upon the classes already spoken of, the influx of money into the Holy City must yet be con- siderable. Not only are many of the inhabitants, more especially many of the Jews and Armenians, very rich, and an infinitely larger number moderately so, but a heavy tribute is exacted by the Turkish authorities. The Pasha of Damascus, within the limits of whose government the Holy City falls, has his c>wn and the Sublime Porte's interests personally attended to by the Mozallam, or military governor of Jerusalem ; the Mufti who is at the head of both the judicial and ecclesiastical departments, and holds his appointment direct from Constantinople ; the Capo- Verde, or superintendent of the Mosque of Omar ; the Moula Cadi, or chief of the police ; and the Soubaski^ or town-major. If r.i ■■•s Ptf.t! 144 ORIENTAL COSTUMES. We have merely glanced at a portion of Mount Zion ; but ere we leave Jerusalem we must give a brief descrip- tion of it as it now appears in its two divisions — Mount Zion within, and Mount Zion without, the walls. Within the walls, Mount Zion is crowned, on the site, and nearly at the summit, by the building and the sur- rounding gardens of the Armenian convent ; by far the most magnificent in Jerusalem, it contains, besides the accommodations for the monks themselves, a thousand chambers appropriated to the use of pilgrims ! And even more than that number annually visit the convent from Armenia, Persia and Turkey. Some of these may be, and probably are, too poor to swell the revenues of the convent, but the greater majority pay sums far beyond a mere compensation for the provisions and shelter afforded them. The apartments occupied by the Armenian patriarch and clergy are small, but well furnished, and laid with very rich Persian carpets. The attire, too, of these ecclesiastics is rich and Oriental ; the dresses in which they officiate are the most sumptuous we ever saw, excepting those on some dignitaries in St. Peter's at Rome. Their church has two altars decked with rich mitres, embroidered capes, crosses both of gold and silver, crowns, chalices, an J other church utensils with- out number. In the middle of the church is a pulpit made of tortoiseshell and mother-of-pearl, with a beau- tiful canopy or cupola over it of the same fabric. The tortoiseshell and mother-of-pearl are so exquisitely mingled and inlaid in each other that the work far exceeds the material. Though small it is lofty, and crowned by a central dome, and being entirely free of pews or stalls of any description, looks considerably larger than it really is. The walls are everywhere covered with pictures ; they are executed in the worst taste, yet from the mere profusion of their numbers and gaiety of their coloring, they produce on the whole an agreeable effect. The pillars of the church and offices of the society, as well as the doors leading to it, and the inner walls, are all cased with porcelain tiles, painted in / m^ MOSQUE OF THE PROPHET DAVID. 145 blue with crosses and other sacred devices. The Mosaic pavement is the most beautiful of its kind. The whole is carefully covered with rich Turkey carpets, except- ing only a small space before the great altar. In a small recess on the left is shown the sanctuary of St. James, thought to oe on the spot on which he wa^ belicaded ; and this is ornamented with sculpture in white marble, with massy silver lamps, and gilding, and painting, producing altogether a surprising rich- ness of effect. The door which leads to this is still more beautiful, and is composed entirely of tortoise- shell, mother-of-pearl, gold, and silver, all exquisitely inlaid. Quitting the city by the Zion gate the first object that meets the eye of the traveller is a long and dingy- looking Turkish mosque, situated on the middle of Mount Zion. It is called the Mosque of the Prophet David, and is said to be built over his tomb, which is still exhibited in the interior, and is held in the greatest possible veneration by the Mussulmans. The Santons belonging to this mosque are the most powerful in Jerusalem. A part of this building having formerly been the church of the Ccenaculum, an upper room was pointed out to us as the identical room in which our Savior ate that supper with His disciples to which the Christian world owes its most solemn and touching sacrament. We may very briefly as well as decisively dispose of this assumption by calling the attentior« of our readers to the fact that thirty-nine years after that event not only the walls but every house in Jerusalem had been razed to the foundations, and the ground ploughed up by the Roman soldiers, in order that they might dis- cover the treasures which vhey supposed that the unfor- tunate Jews had hidden under their feet. Between the right of this mosque and the gate of the city a small Armenian chapel occupies the site of the palace of Caiaphas, remarkable for nothing but that the stone which closed up the door of the Holy Sepulchre is built in an altar at the upper end of it, to be kissed and ^1 \ 'i a 1; r ■ W : '^ Hi ImI W i Y '5ii m : i^ .|J ii il' Hi 'p' >, h,^\ I 11 ii 146 MOUNT ZION. iii M ; ii'i.r caressed, like other precious relics. It is an unpolished block of compact limestone, the same with the rock on which the city stands, and does not, like the block of marble in present use, carry on its face the refutation of its having once served the office attributed to it, though we confess there is almost as little probability that it ever did so. We may mention a burial-ground a little to the west of the chapel, and dismiss with deserved brevity the places impudently pointed out as those " where the Vir- gin Mary expired and the cock crew to Peter," and pro- ceed to describe the present aspect of Mount Zion. At the time when we visited the sacred ground, one part of it supported a crop of barley, another was undergoing the labor of the plough, and the soil that was turned up consisted of stone and lime, such as is usually met with In the foundations of ruined cities. The Mount is nearly a mile in circumference, is highest on the west side, and towards the east falls down in broad terraces on the upper part of the mountain, and narrow ones on the side as it slopes down toward the brook Kedron. Each ter- race is divided from the one above it by a low wall of dry stone, built of the ruins of this celebrated spot. The terraces near the bottom of the hill are still used as gar- dens, and are watered from the Pool of Siloam. They chiefly belong to the inhabitants of the village of Siloa, immediately opposite. We have here another remark- able instance of the special fulfilment of prophecy — " Therefore for your sakes shall Zion be ploughed as a field, and Jerusalem shall become heaps." We may remark that Jerusalem must anciently have had a copious supply of water very unusual to the cities of western Asia, and there can be no doubt that to this circumstance much of its beauty and salubrity, and no small part of the fertility of the neighboring country, were due. May not much of its decline in all these respects be attributable to the destruction of wells and aqueducts, consequent, indeed, upon war, but by no means the least fatal of its forms of ravage and desola- tion? KNOBBY CirV'. 147 We shall conclude this chapter with Mark Twain's description of Jerusalem, in order that the reader may have an opportunity of observing how the notable ob- jects, as well as the superstitions of the Holy City, appear when treated by the pen of the humorist : A fast walker could go outside the walls of Jerusalem and walk entirely around the city in an hour. I do not know how else to make one understand how small it is. The appearance of the city is peculiar. It is as knobby with countless little domes as a prison door is with bolt- heads. Every house has from one to half-a-dozen of these white-plastered domes of stone, broad and low, sitting in the centre of, or in a duster upon, the flat roof. Wherefore, when one looks down from an emin- ence upon the compact mass of houses (so closely crowded together, in fact, that there is no appearance of streets at all, and so the city looks solid), he sees the knobbiest town in the world, except Constantinople. It looks as if it might be roofed, from centre to circumfer- ence, with inverted saucers. The monotony of the view is interrupted only by the great Mosque of Omar, the Tower of Hippicus, and one or two other buildings that rise into commanding prominence. The houses are generally two-story high, built stongly of masonry, whitewashed or plastered outside, and have a cage of wooden 'attice-work projecting in front of every window. To reproduce a Jerusalem street it would only be necessary to up-end a chicken- coop and hang it before each window in an alley of American houses. The streets are roughly and badly paved with stone, and are tolerably crooked — enough so to make each street appear to close together constantly and come to an end about a hundred yards ahead of a pilgrim as long as he chose to walk in it. Projecting from the top of the lower story of many of the houses is a very nar- row porch-roof or shed, without supporters from below ; and I have several times seen cats jump across the street, from one shed to the other, when out calling. The cats could have jumped double the distance without 1-^1 li!V yH' M 148 STREETS OF JERUSALEM. illed away from the door of the Sepulchre, and on which the angel was sitting when Mary came thither " at early dawn." Stooping low we entered the vault — the Sepulchre itself. It is only about six feet by seven, and the stone couch on which the dead Savior lay extends from end to end of the apartment and occupies half its width. It is coyered with a marble slab which has been much worn by the lips of pilgrims. This slab serves as an altar now. Over it hang some fifty gold and silver lamps, which are kept always burning, and the place is otherwise scandalized by trumpery gewgaws and tawdry orna- mentation. All sects of Christians (except Protestants) have chapels under the roof of tl. - Holy Sepulchre, and each must keep to itself and not venture upon another's ground. It has been proven conclusively that they cannot worship together around the grave of the Savior of the world in peace. The chapel of the Syrian's is not handsome ; that of the Copts is the humblest of them all. It is nothing but a dismal cavern, roughly hewn in the living rock of the Hill of Calvary. In one side of it two ancient tombs are hewn, which are claimed to be those in which Nicodemus and Joseph of Aramathea were buried. As we moved among the great piers and pillars of another part of the church, we came upon a party of biack-robed, animal-looking Italian monks, with can- dles in their hands, who were chanting something in Latin, and going through some kind of religious per- formance around a disk of white marble let into the floor. It was there that the risen Savior appeared to Mary Magdalen in the likeness of a gardner. Near by was a similar stone, shaped like a star — here the Mag- dalen herself stood at the same time. Monks were performing in this place also. They perform every- where — all over the vast building, and at all hours. Their candles are always flitting about in the gloom, and making the dim old church more uismal than there THE EXACT CENTRE OF THE EARTH. 151 is any necessity that it should be, even though it is a tomb. The priests tried to show us, through a small screen, a fragment of the genuine Pillar of Flagellation, to which Christ was bound when they scourged him. But we could not see it, because it was dark inside the screen. However, a baton is kept here, which the pil- grim thrusts through a hole in the screen, and then he no longer doubts that the true Pillar of Flagellation is in there. He cannot have any excuse to doubt it, for he can feel it with the stick. He can feel it as distinct- ly as he could feel any thing. Not far from here was a niche where they used to preserve a piece of the True Cross, but it was gone now. This piece of the cross was discovered in the sixteenth century. The Latin priests say it was stolen away, long ago, by priests of another sect. That seems like a hard statement to make, but we know very well that it was stolen, because we have seen it ourselves in several of the cathedrals of Italy and France. Moving through the gloom of the church of the Holy Sepulchre we came to a small chapel, hewn out of the rock — a place which has been known as *' The Prison of Our Lord" for many centuries. Tradition says that here the Savior was confined just previously to the crucifixion. Under an altar by the door was a pair of stone stocks for human legs. These things are called the "'Bonds of Christ," and the use they were once put to has given them the name they now bear. The Greek Chapel is the most roomy, the richest and the showiest chapel in the Church of the Holy Sepul- chre. Its altar, like that of all the Greek Churches, is a lofty screen that extends clear across the chapel, and is gorgeous with gilding and pictures. The numerous lamps that hang before it are of gold and silver, and cost great sums. But the feature of the place is a short coluiin that rises from the middle of the marble pavement of the chapel, and marks the exact centre of the earth. The most reliable traditions tell us that this was known to V I If ■, I 1 u h' J 152 A SCEPTIC CONVINCED. be the earth's centre, ages ago, and that when Christ was upon earth he set all doubts upon the subject at rest for ever, by stating with his own lips that the tradition was correct. Remember, he said that that particular column stood upon the centre of the world. If the cen- tre of the world changes, the column changes its position accordingly. This column has moved three times, of its own accord. This is because, in great convulsions of nature, at three different times, masses of the earth — whole ranges of mountains, prol:ably — have flown off into space, thus lessening the diameter of the earth, and changing the exact locality of its centre by a point or two. This is a very curious and interesting circum- stance, and is a withering rebuke to those philosophers who would make us believe that it is not possible for any portion of the earth to fly oft' into space. To satisfy himself that this spot was really the centre of the earth, a sceptic once paid well for the prfvilege of ascending to the dome of the church to see if the sun gave him a shadow at noon. He came down perfectly convinced. The day was very cloudy and the' sun threw no shadows at all ; but the man was satisfied that if the sun had come out and made shadows, it could not have made any for him. Proof'^ like this are not to be set aside by the idle tongues of cavilers. To such as are not bigoted, and are willing to be convinced, they carry a conviction that nothing can ever shake. If even greater proofs than those I have mentioned are wanted to satisfy the headstrong and the foolish that this is the genuine centre of the earth, they are here. The greatest of them lies in fact that from under this very column was taken the dust from which Adam was made. This can surely be regarded in the light of a settler. It is not likely that the original first man would have been made from an inferior quality of earth when it was entirely convenient to get first qualit}- from the world's centre. This will .strike any reflecting mind forcibly. That Adam was formed 01 dirt procured from this very spot is amply proven by the fact that in six thousand years no man has been able to prove that the ,!«|l li;'i ADAM'S GRAV^' 155 dirt was uot procured here whereof he was made. It is a singular circumstance that right under the roof of this same great church, and not far from that illustrious column, Adam himself, the father of the human race, lies buried. There is no question that he is actually buried in the grave which is pointed out as hijj — there can be none — because it has never yet been proven that that grave is not the grave in which he is buried. The next place the guide took us to in the holy church was an altar dedicated to the Roman soldier who was of the military guard that attended at the crucifixion to keep order, and who — when the vail of the Temple was rent in the awful darkness that followed ; when the rock of Golgotha was split by an earthquake ; when the artillery of heaven thundered, and in the bale- ful glare of the lightnings the shrouded dead flitted about the streets of Jerusalem — shook with fear and said, " Surely this was the Son of God ! " Where this altar stands now that Roman soldier stood then, in full view of the crucified Savior — in full sight and hearing of all the marvels that were transpiring far and wide about the circumference of the Hill of Calvary. And in this self-same spot the priests of the Temple beheaded him for those blaspuemous words he had spoken. In this altar they used to keep one of the most curious relics that human eyes ever looked upon — a thing that had power to fascinate the beholder in some mysterious way and keep him gazing for hours together. It was nothing less than the copper plate Pilate put upon the Savior's cross, and upon which he wrote, "Tins IS THE King of tiik Jews." Still marching through the venerable Church of the Holy Sepulchre, among chanting priests in coarse long robes and sandals ; pilgrims of all colors and many nationalities, in all sorts of strange costumes ; under dusky arches and by dingy piers and columns ; through a sombre cathedral gloom freighted with smoke and incense, and faintly starred with scores of candles that appeared suddenly and as suddenly disappeared, or 'i ' 'i-^ P. ■ 1 I s ! |i u 1 i- , 1 1 N 1(11': V 154 DOUBTFUL RELICS. drifted mysteriously hither and thither about the dis- tant aisles like ghostly jack-o'-lanterns — we came at last to a small chapel which is called the "Chapel of the mocking." Under the altar was a fragment of a marble column ; this was the seat Christ sat on when he was reviled, and mockingly made King, crowned with a crown of thorns and sceptered with a reed. It was here that they blindfolded him and struck him, and said in derision, "Prophesy who it is that smote thee." The tradition that this is the identical spot of the mocking is a very ancient one. The guide said that Saewulf was the first to mention it. I do not know Saewulf, but still I cannot well refuse to accept his testimony — none of us can. We passed on and halted before the tomb of Mel- chisedeck ! You will remember Melchisedeck, no doubt ; he was the king who came out and levied a tribute on Abraham the time that he pursued Lot's captors to Dan, and took all their property from them. This was about four thousand years ago, and Melchise- deck died shortly afterward. However, his tomb is in a good state of preservation. When one enters the church of the Holy Sepulchre, the Sepulchre itself is the first thing he desires to see, and really is almost the first thing he does see. The next thing he has a strong yearning to see is the spot where the Saviour was crucified. But this they exhibit last. It is the crowning glory of the place. One is grave and thoughtful when he stands in the little Tomb of the Savior ; he could not well be otherwise in such a plice — but he has not the slightest possible belief that ever the Lord lay there, and so the interest he feels in the spot is very, very greatly marred by that reflection. He looks at the place where Mary stood, in another part of the church, and where John stood, and Mary Magdalen ; where the mob derided the Lord ; where tlie angel sat ; where the crown of thorns was found, and the true cross ; where the risen Saviour appeared — he looks at all these places with interest, but with the same conviction he felt in the case of thcw 'I LOCALITY OF THE CRUCIFIXION. 155 Sepulchre, that there is nothing genuine about them, and that they are imaginary holy places created by the monks. But the place of the Crucifixion affects him differently. He fully believes that he is looking upon the very spot where the Savior gave up his life. He remembers that Christ was very celebrated, long before he came to Jerusalem ; he knows that his fame was so great that crowds followed him all the time ; he is awartT that his entry into the city produced a stirring sensation, and that his reception was a kind of ovation ; he cannot over-look the fact that when he was cruci- fied there were very many in Jerusalem who believed he was the true Son of God. To publicly execute such a personage was sufficient in itself to make the locality of the execution a memorable place for ages ; added to this, the storm, the darkness, the earthquake, the rend- ing of the vail of the Temple, and the untimely waking of the dead, were events calculated to fix the execution and the scene of it in the mtmory of even the most thoughtless witness. Fathers would tell their sons about the strange affair and point out the spot ; the sons would transmit the story to their children, and thus a period of three hundred years would easily be spanned — at which time Helena came and built a church upon Calvary to commemorate the death and burial of the Lord and preserve the sacred place in the memories of men ; since that time there has always been a church there. It is not possible that there can be any mistake about the locality of Crucifixion. Not half a dozen persons knew where they buried the Saviour, perhaps, and a burial is not a startling event, any how ; there- fore, we can be pardoned for unbelief in the Sepulchre^ but not in the place of the Crucifixion. Five hundred years hence there will be no vestige of Bunker Hill monument left, but America will still know where the battle was fought and where Warren fell. The Cruci- fixion of Christ was too notable an event in Jerusalem, and the Hill of Calvary made too celebrated by it, to be forgotten in the short space of three hundred years. I climbed the stairway in the church which brings one to '. SI J 156 WHERE THE TRUE CROSS STOOD. i i the top of the small inclosed pinnacle of rock, and look- ed upon the place where the true cross once stood, with a far more absorbing interest than I had ever felt in anything earthly before. I could not believe that the three holes in the top of the rock were the actual ones the crosses had stood in, but I felt sati.sfied that those crosses had stood no near the place now occupied by them, that the (cw feet of possible difference w^re a matter of no consequence. When one stands where the Savior was crucified, he finds it all he can do to keep it .« *^rictly before his mind that Christ was not crucified in a Catholic Church, He must remind himself cvcrv now and then that the great event transp'red in the t>pen air, and not in a gloomy, candle-lighted cell in a little corner of a vast church, up-stairs — a small cell all bcjcweled and bespangled with flashy ornamentation, in execrable taste. Under a marble altar like a table, in a circular hole in the marble floor, corresponding with the one just under it in which the true cross stood. The first thing every one does is to kneel down and take a candle and examine this hole. He does this strange prospecting with an amount of gravity that can never be estimated or appreciated by a man who has not seen the opera- tion. Then he holds his candle before a richly engrav- ed picture of the Savior, done on a massy slab of ^^old, and wonderfully rayed and starred with diamonds, which hangs above the hole within the altar, and his solemnity changes to lively admiration. He rises and faces the fine wrought figures of the Savior and the malefactors uplifted upon their crosses behind the altar, and bright with a metallic lustre of many colors. He turns next to the figures close to them of the Virgin and Mary Magdalen ; next to the rift in the living rock made by the earthquake at the time of the Crucifixion, and an extension of which he had seen before in the Avail of one of the grottoes below ; he looks next at the show-case with a figure of the Virgin in it, and is amazed at the princely fortune in precious gems and jewelry that hangs so thickly about the form as to hide AN ILLUSTRIOUS EDIFICE. 157 it like a garment almost. All about the apartment the gaudy trappings of the Greek Church offend the eye and keep the mind on the rack to remember that this is the place of the Crucifixion — Golgotha— the Mount of Calvary. And the last thing he looks at is that which was also the first — the place where the true cross stood. That will chain him to the spot and compel him to look once more, and once again, after he has satisfied all curiosity and lost all interest concerning thj other mat- ters pertaining to the locality. The Church of the Holy Sepulchre is the most sacred locality on earth to millions and millions of men and women, and children, the noble and the humble, bond and free. In its history from the first, and in its tremendous associations, it is the most illustrious edifice in Christendom. With all its clap-trap side shows and unseemly impostures of every kind, it is still grand, reverend, venerable — for a God died there ; for fifteen hundred years its shrines have been wet with the tears of pilgrims from earth's remotest cor fines ; for more than two hundred the most gallant knights that ever wielded sword wasted their lives away in a.struggle to seize it and hold it sacred from infidel pollution. Even in our own day a war, that cost millions of treasure and rivers of blood, was fought because two rival nations claimed the right to put a new dome upon it. History is full of this old Church of the Holy Sepulchre — full of blood that was shed because of the respect and the veneration in which men held the last resting-place of the meek and lowly, the mild and gentle. Prince of Peace. We were standing in a narrow street, by the Tower of St. Antonia. " On these stones that are crumbling away," the guide said, " the Savior sat and rested before taking up the cross. This is the beginning of the Sorrowful Way, or the Way of Grief" The party took note of the spot and moved on. We passed under the "Ecce Homo Arch," and saw the very window from which Pilate's wife warned her husband to have nothing to do with the persecution of the Just Man. This window H I •Lit' ^ I i A\ 'It'' ■ P 158 ST. VHRONJCA. 'M '-i is in an exciilent state of preservation, considering its great dge. They showed us where Jesus rested the second time, and where the mob refused to give him up, and said, "Let his blood be upon our heads, and upon our children's children for ever." The French Catholics are building a church on this spot, and with their usual vener- ation for historical relics, are incorporating into the new such scraps of ancient walls as they have found there. Further on W3 saw the spot where the fainting Savior fell under the weight of his cross. A great granite column of some ancient temple lay there at the time, and the heavy cross struck it such a blow that it broke in two in the middle. Such was the guide's story when he halted us before the broken column. We crossed a street, and came presently to the for- mer residence of St. Veronica. When the Savior passed there, she came out, fall of womanly compassion, and spoke pitying words to him, undaunted by ihe hootings and the threatenings of the mob, and wiped the perspir- ation from his face with her handkerchief. We had heard so much of St. Veronica, and seen her picture by so many masters, that it was like meeting an old friend unexpectedly to come upon her ancient home in Jeru- salem. The strangest thing about the incident that has made her name so famous, is that when she wiped the perspiration away, the print of the Saviour's face re- mained upon the handkerchief, a perfect portrait, and so remaiiis unto this day. We knew this because we saw this handkerchief in a Cathedral in Paris, in another in Spain, and in two others in Italy. In the Milan Cathe- dral it coses five cents to see it, and at St. Peter's at Rome, it is almost impossible to see it at any price. No tradition is so amply verified as this of St. Veronica and her handkerchief At the next corner we saw a deep indention in the hard stone masonry at the corner of a house, but might have gone heedlessly by it but that the guide said it was made by the elbow of the Savior, wno stumbled here and fell. Presently we came to an- other such indention In a stone wall. The guide said the Savior fell here also, and made this depression with his THE WANDERING JEW. 159 elbow. There were other places where the Lord fell, and others where he rested ; but one of the most curious land- marks of ancient history we found on this morning walk through the crooked lanes that lead towards Calvary^ was a certain stone built into a house — a stone that was seamed and scarred that it bore a sort of grotesque re- semblance to the human face. The projection that answered for cheeks were worn smooth by the passion- ate kisses of generations of pilgrims from distant lands. We asked " Why ?" The guide said it was because this was one of " the very stones of Jerusalem" that Christ mentioned when he was reproved for permitting the people to cry *' Hosannah !" when he made his memor- able entry into the city upon an ass. One of the pil- grims said, *' But there is no evidence that the stones did cry out — Christ said that if the people stopped from shouting Hosannah, the very stones would do it. The guide was perfectly serene. He said calmly, " This is one of the stones that would have cried out," It was of little use to try to shake this fellow's simple faith — it was easy to see that. And so we came at last to another wonder, of deep and abiding interest— the veritable house in which the unhappy wretch once lived who has been celebrated in song and story for more than eighteen hundred years as the Wandering Jew. On the memorable day of the Crucifixion he stood in this old doorway, with his arms akimbo, looking out upon the struggling mob that was approaching, and when the weary Savior would have sat down and rested him a moment, pushed him rudely away and said, " Move on ! " The Lord said, " Move on, thou, likewise," and the command has never been re- voked from that day to this. All men know how that the miscreant upon whose head that just curse fell, has roamed up and down the wide world for ages and ages, seeking rest and never finding it — courting death, but always in vain — longing to stop in city, in wilderness, in desert solitudes, but hearing always that relentless warn- ing to march — march on ! They say — do these hoary traditions — that when Titus sacked Jerusalem, and !l '? n. lit V'- t i-i lOO A CHARMED LIFE. slaughtered eleven hundred thousand Jews in her streets and by-ways, the Wandering Jew was seen always in the thickest of the fight, and that when battle-axes gleamed in the air, he bowed his head beneath them ; when swords flashed their deadly lightning. , he sprang in their way ; he bared his breast to whizzing javelins, to hissing arrows, to any and every weapon that promised death and forgctfulness, and rest. But it was useless — he walked forth out of the carnage without a wound. And it is said that five hundred years afterwards he followed Mahomet wlien he carried destruction to the cities of Arabia, and then turned against him, hoping in this way to win the death of a traitor. Hiir calculations were wrong again. No quarter was given to any living crea- ture but one, and that was the only one of the host that •did not want it. He sought death five hundred years later, in the war of the Crusades, and offered himse'f to famine and pestilence at Ascalon. He escaped again — he could vol die. These repeated annoyances could have at last but one effect — tlicy shook his confidence. Since then the Wandering Jew has carried on a kind of desultory toying \vith the most promising of the aids and implements of destruction, but with small hope, as a general thing. He has speculated some in cholera and railroads, and has taken almost a lively interest in infer- ;nal machines and patent medicines. He is old, now, and grave, as becomes an age like his; he indulges in no light amusements, save that he goes sometimes to exe- cutions and is fond of funerals. There is one thing he cannot avoid ; go where he will about the world, he must never fail to report in Jerusalem everj' fiftieth year. Only a year or two ago he was here for the thirty-seventh time since Jesus was crucified on Calvary. They say that many old people, who are here now, saw him then, and had seen him before. He looks always the same — old and withered, and hollow-eyed and listless, save that there is about him something that seems to suggest that he is looking for some one — expecting some one — the friends of his youth, perhaps. But the most of them are dead now. MODERN TOURISTS. l6l He always pokes about the old streets looking lone- some, making his mark on a wall here and there, and eyeing the oldest buildings with a sort friendly half interest ; and he sheds a few tears at the threshold of his ancient dwelling, and bitter, bitter tears they are. Then he collects his rent and leaves again. He has been seen standing near the Church of the Holy Sepul- cre on many a starlight night, for he has cherished an idea for many centuries that if he could only enter there he could rest. But when he appears the doors slam too with a crash, the earth trembles, and all the lights in Jerusalem burn a ghastly blue ! He does this every fifty years, ju.st the same. It is hopeless ; but then it is hard to break habits one has been eigliteen hundred years accustomed to. The old touri.it is far away on his wanderings now. How he must smile to see a parcel of blockheads like us galloping about the world, and looking wise, and imagining we are finding out a good deal about it ! He must have a consuming contempt for the ignorant, complaisant asses that go skurrying about the world in- these railroading days and call it travelling. We are surfeited with sights. Nothing has any fa.3- cination for us now but the Church of the Holy Sepul- chre. We have been there every day, and have not grown tired of it ; but we are weary of everything else. The sights are too many. They swarm about you at every step ; no single foot of ground in all Jerusalem or within its neighborhood seems to be without a stirring and important history of its own. It is a very relief to steal a walk of a hundred yards without a guide to talk unceasingly about every stone you .step upon, and drag you back ages and ages to the day when it achieved celebrity. It seems hardly real when I find my.self leaning for a moment on a ruined wall, and looking listlessly into the historic pool of Bcthesada. I did not think such things could be so crowded together as to diminish their interest. But in serious truth, we have been drifting about for several days, using our eyes and our ears H: 1 62 EASTERN TRADITIONS. i ,1.1'''' more from a sense of duty than any higl.er and worthier reason. And too often we have been glad when it was time to go home and be distressed no more about illus- trious localities. Our pilgrims compress too much into one day. One can gorge sight to repletion as well as sweetmeats. Since we breakfasted this morning, we have seen enough to have furnished us food for a year's reflection if we could have seen the various objects with comfort and looked upon them deliberately. We visited the pool oi Hezekiah, where David saw Uriah's wife coming from the bath, and fell in love with her. We went out of the city by the Jaffa gate, and of course were told many things about its Tower of Hip- picus. We rode across the Valley of Hinnon, between two of the Pools of Gihon, and by an aqueduct built by Solo- mon, which still conveys watei to the city. We ascended the Hill of Evil Counsel, where Judas received the thirty pieces of silver, and we also lingered a moment under the tree a venerable tradition says he hanged himself on. We descended to the canon again, and then the guide began to give name and history to every bank and boulder we came to: "This was the Field of Blood; these cuttings in the rocks werv^ shrines and temples of Moloch ; here they sacrificed children ; yonder is the Zion Gate ; the Tyropean Valley ; the Hill of Ophel ; here is the junction of the Valley of Jehosaphat — on your right is the Well of Job." We turned up Jehosa- phat. The recital went on. " This is the Mount of Olives ; this is the Hill of Offense ; the nest of huts is the Village of Siloam ; here, yonder, everywhere, is the King's Garden; under this great tree Zacharias, the high priest, was murdered ; yonder is Mount Moriah and the Temple wall ; the tomb of Absalom ; the tomb of St. James; the tomb of Zacharias; beyond are the Garden of Gethsemane and the tomb of the Virgin Mary ; here is the Pool of Siloam, and — " ORIENTAL BEGGARS. /63 ■■ I'i We said we would dismount and quench our thirst, and rest. We were burning up with the heat. We were failing under the accumulated fatigue of days and days of ceaseless marching. All were willing. The Pool is a deep, walled ditch, through which a clear stream of water run.s, that comes from under Jeru- salem somewhere, and passing through the Fountain of the Virgin, or being supplied with it, reaches this place by way of a tunnel of heavy itiasonry. This famous pool looked exactly as it looked in Solomon's time, no doubt, and the same dusky. Oriental women came down in their old Oriental way, and carried off jars of the water on their heads, just as they did three thousand years ago, and just as they will do fifty thousand jears hence if any of them are still left on earth. We went away from there and stopped at the Foun- tain of the Virgin. But the water was not good, and there was no comfort or peace anywhere, on account of the regiment of boys and girls and beggars that perse- cuted us all the time for bucksheesh. The guide wanted us to give them some money, and we did it ; but when he went on to say that they were starving to death, we couly not but feel that we had done a great sin in throw- ing obstacles in the way of such a desirable consumma- tion, and so we tried to collect it back, but it could not be done. We entered the Garden of Gethsemane, and we visited the Tomb of the Virgin. We saw also the Mount of Olives, its view of Jerusalem, the Dead Sea and the mountains of Moab ; the Damascus Gate, the tree that was planted by King Godfrey of Jerusalem. One ought to feel pleasantly when he talks of these things. We gazed also on the stone column that projects over Je- hosophat from the Temple wall like a cannon, upon which the Moslems believe Mahomet will sit astride when he comes to judge the world. It is a pity he could not judge it from some roojt of his own in Mecca, with- out trespassing on our holy ground. Close by is the Golden Gate, in the Temple wall — a gate that was an elegant piece of sculpture in the time of the Temple, l:!l ?!'!, ^.\ '^'fl 164 THE GOLDEN GATE. « i : and even so yet. From it, in ancient times, the Jewish High Priest turned loose the scapegoat and let him flee to the wilderness and bear away his twelve-month load of the sins of the people. If they were to turn one loose now, he would not get as far as the Garden of Geth- semane, till those miserable vagabonds here would gob- ble him up, sins and ail. They wouldn't care. Mutton- chops and sin is good enough living for them. The Moslems watch the Golden Gate with a jealous eye, and an anxious one, for they have an honored tradition that when it falls, Islamisni will fall, and with it the Ottoman Empire. It did not grieve me any to notice that the old gate was getting a little shaky. There was nothing more at Jerusalem to be seen, except the traditional houses of Dive and I.azarus of the parable, the Tombs of the Kings, and those of the Judges ; the spot where they stoned one of the disciples to death, and beheaded another ; the room and the table made celebrated by the Last Supper ; the fig-tree that Jesus withered ; a number of historical places about Geth- semane and the Moimt of Olives, and fifteen or twenty others in different portions of the cicy itself We have full comfort in one reflection. Our exper- iences in Europe have taui^Iit us that in time this fatigue will bo ibrgotton ; the heat will be forgotten ; the thirst, the tiresome volubility of the guide, the pcrsecuJion of the beggars — and then, all that will be lefl will be pleas- ant memories of Jerusalem, memories we shall call up with always increasing niterest as the years go by, mem- ories which some day will become all beautiful when the last annoyance that encumbers them shall have fled out of our minds never again to return. CHAPTER V. m r H B MOUNT OF OLIVES. The very name of the Mount of Olives calls up be- fore us thrilling memories of the former glories of Jeru- salem, and of Him who, standing upon that hallowed hill looked down upon the city, and, foreknowing his crucifixion, fortold the ruins of all those glories, which, to the perverse and guilty Jews, seemed indestructible, eternal. The Mount of Olives is part of a limestone range running nearly due north and south, and may be described as rising in four distinct mountain peaks. The most northerly and lowest of these peaks, Solomon's Stone, is crowned by a large domed sepulchre, sur- rounded by numerous smaller and less pretentious Mos- lem tombs. This summit or peak is approached by a very easy ascent through corn-fields and olive trees. The second summit is reached from the Garden of Gethesame, and commands a full view of the city. About mid-uay up the ascent of this summit there are the ruins of a monastery ; and as the monks will have a legend wherever a legend can be had, they gravely tell the traveller that these ruins occupy the very spot on which the Savior gazed down upon Jerusalem and wept over it. This is the spot whence the best view of the Holy City can be commanded. Without paying any exorbitant heed to the legends of the monks, therefore, we may reasonably conclude that he who has been privileged to ga/e fron) these ruins down upon the modern Turkish Jerusalem, has stood upon the very hill and near the very spot, if not actually upon it, whence the great .Savior of mankind gazed, j)rophesied, and pitied, long ages agone. A blessed and enviable privi- lege ! Even here, however, where, if anywhere, one- might suppo.se that imposture would be s.lent, and cupidity itself cause for a time to tax credulity and 1:' I; ){ •i r , W i66 BETHANY. cheat ignorance, the feelings of the thoughtful and rapt Christians are tried by the monks and ciceroni, who, at a short distance from the summit of this peak of Olivet, show an impression which they aver to be the print of our Savior's left foot. Unfortunately for the truth of the legend, the very same and indisputable authority which assures us that hence our Savior did gaze down upon and weep over Jerusalem, also, and in the clearest, terms, assures us that he did not ascend from the sight of his wondering and mourning yet exultant disciples ; for [Luke xxiv. 50, 51] we are expressly told that Our Savior at Bethany, and not there, " lifted up his hands and blessed them. And it came to pass, while he blessed them, he was parte J from them, and carried up to heaven." Now Bethany is at no great distance from the Mount of Olives, not further than the summits them- selves from Jerusalem, and one way to it is over the Mount of Olives ; but the distance is sufficient to be decisive upon the point, and to render the imposture of the monks little less absurd than it is shameless. Bethany is now a small poor village inhabited by Arabs, and known by the name of El-Azirlyeh, that is, " the town of Lazarus." It consists of about thirty small hovels ; but its situation is beautiful and peaceful. A considerable number of fruit trees — olive, pomegranate, fig and almond — adorn its neighborhood. The numer- ous pilgrims b\' whom Bethany is visited are .shown a ruinous mass, apparently the remains of some old cas- tle or tower, as the house of Lazarus, and a grotto near at hand is indicated as his tomb. The monks show, also, not only the houses of Mary Magdalen and Martha, but al.so *' the identical fig-tree which our Savior cursed," The third and fourth summits of Olivet stands south of the other two, the fourth ueuig the most southerly of all. On the third are the ruins of an Armenian convent, and the fourth has also a convent of the same people. Ore of the most remarkable things about this hal- lowed mountain is, that the valuable trees to which it owed its name are .still, though only in occasional clumps, denizens of its soil. It is truly a curious and •i If ii \}: -^r BETHLEHEM. 167 an interesting fact that, during a period of a little more than two thousand years, Hebrews, Assyrians, Romans, Moslems, and Christians, have been successively in pos- session of the rocky mountains of Palestine ; yet the olive still indicates its paternal soil, and is found at this day, upon the same spot which was called by the Hebrew writers Mount Olive, and the Mount of Olives, eleven hundred years before the Christian era. Gazing from Mount Olive over the lower hills upon which Jerusalem is placed, the eye glances across the deep valley of Jehoshaphat, in modern as in ancient times the favorite burial-place of the Jews. Occasion- ally the rocky soil is broken by small patches of kind- lier soil, but the rocky formation predominates, and is in all directions excavated into tombs, some of them to vast as to indicate that those whose lifeless forms were laid within them must, during life, have been person- ages of state and station. Many of these tombs, small as well as large, are covered with Hebrew inscriptions. Both Jews and Mohammedans, — both probably guided by Joel iii- 11, 12, believe that in this valley all mankind will be summoned by the dead trump to their final judgment. Next to Jerusalem, Bethlehem is the most inter- esting spot in the Holy Land to the Christian traveller. Following the newer, or more easterly, of two roads thither, the traveller leaves Jerusalem by the Jaffa gate,' and descends into the ravine on the left of the Pool of Hczekiah, and then turning to the south-west, toils over a rugged and difficult road, a portion of which is the valley of Rephaim, (the frequent battle-field of the Jews and the Philistines,) chiefly of barren rock, though in some parts interspersed with patches of sickly grain, and in others with a more luxurious growth of coarse grass enamelled with a variety of wild flowers. Bethlehem, as seen from a distance, present a some- what imposing aspect, being seated on the crest of a hill that stretches from right to left, and commands the whole expanse of a deep and wide valley. Rising con- 10 1:11 M : |n!: ■' i' i W'4 ii ni i68 CAVE OF THE NATIVITY. \\ r ? ! spicuously and even grandly above the other buildings, the first object to fix the eye of the beholder is an em- battled and strongly walled monastry, which is erected over the Cxve of the Nativity, and which, especially from the most distant point : : which it becomes visible, might well be mistaken for some antique and feudal stronghold. From this point the road meanders round the head of the valley in which the heavenly vision announced to the trenibling shepherds who watched their flocks in Bethlehem the incarnation and birth of the great Savior of mankind. The half nomade popu- lation of Palestine have, probably from the earliest days of their existence, taken up their more or less perma- nent abode in natural or artificial grots and caves ; and there is nothing so outrageously improbable in the sup- position that both the humble inn and its dependent stable, which the New Testament assures us was the scene of the Nativity, were excavations of this sort. The original edifice is said to have been destroyed by the fierce followers of Mohammed as early as the year 1263, and the present monastery was probably built at a not much more recent date. The building is of vast extent, and its accommodations are divided, both as to residence and worship, among the Armenian, Greek, and Latin or Roman Catholic monks ; and on certain high festival days they all are admitted to worship before the altars which mark the consecrated spots. An altar here is dedicated to the wise men of the East, and at the foot of this altar, a star, of marble, is said to be immediately under that point of the heavens in which the star of Bethlehem stood stationary to mark out the birthplace of the Saviour, and as immediately over the spot, in an underground church, at which that glorious birth took place. The so-called Cave of the Nativity, an underground church or crypt, is reached by descending some fourteen or fifteen steps and traversing a narrow passage. The walls of this crypt and its floor are of marble. Above this, and beneath an arch cut into the solid rock, is a marble altar ; and at about seven or eight yards from TOOLS OF SOLOMON. 169 that, in a low recess in the rock, is a large block of marble hollowed out to represent a manger. In front of it is the altar of the Magi. This imposing crypt, more imposing to the imagination than the most splen- did of all the churches upon the surface of the earth, is splendidly illuminated by thirty-two larhps of various degrees of costliness and beauty which have at various periods been presented by as many Christian princes and potentates. There are other crypts and grottoes shown here, but we need mention only that of St. Jerome, whose tomb is shown — though his remains were carried to Rome — as also is a crypt called his oratory, in which he is said to have made the Romish version of the Bible, known as the Vulgate. This statement has at least the show of probability, inasmuch as St. Jerome indubitably passed a considerable portion of his life here. Bethlehem, being only about six miles from Jeru- salem, and placed on a similar geological formation, shares with it an abundance of water such as is not often met with in the East, and the land around is extremely fertile, producing large returns of figs, grapes, olives, sesamum, and grain, even for the par- tial cultivation which it receives. The present inhabi- tants of the village number about two thousand ; but the numerous ruined buildings attest the extent of Bethlehem as having formerly been greater than it now is. Here, as at Jerusalem, the chief occupation of the people is that of manufacturing beads, rosaries, cruci- fixes, and other relics, which they vend to the pilgrims. At about three miles to the south-west of Bethle- hem are three pools, called the Pools of Solomon ; which are works of considerable magnitude, worthy of the renowned sovereign whose name they bear. They are fed from fountains in the neighborhood, and serve to supply a perennial stream of water to Jerusalem, by means of an aqueduct which passes Bethlehem. The reference, in Canticles iv. 12, to a "sealed fountain" is commonly supposed to apply to these pools, of which tradition relates that King Solomon shut up these 1; ' 'Ki i':ii 170 THE DEAD SEA. ! ; * !,. I springs, and kept the door of them scaled with his own signet ; to the end that he might pr'^servc the waters, for his own drinking, in their natural freshness and purity. At a somewhat further distance from Bethlehem, in the direction of south-east, the traveller notices a con- spicuous height, which rises in the form of a truncated cone to three or four hundred feet above its base. The hi Ser'^ che name of JcboI-cl-Fureidis, or the Frank Mc Ut i!.n, and exhibits remains of towers and other ruins ui)on its summit and around its base. Its name is derived fr ■ a tradition that the Franks maintained themselves in this post for a terms of forty years after the fall of Jerusalem, though the place is too small ever to have contained even half the number of men which would have been requisite to make any stand in such a country ; and the ruins, though they may be those of a place which was once defended by Franks, appear to have had an earlier origin, as the architecture seems to be Roman. There can be little doubt of the correct- ness of the conjecture, that this hill is that upon which Herod erected the citadel called, after his own name, the Herodium (Jos. Antiq. i. xv. c. ix. 4). It not im- probably represents also the Bethhaccercm of Scripture. : i At that point of the road whence the traveller from Jerusalem first catches sight of Bethlehem, he also has a view of the Dead Sea, stretching below him on the left, and seemingly at but a very short distance: but near as it seems, it is not so found by the traveller, for these high declining mountains are not to be directly descended. The Dead Sea, or Lake Asphaltites, so called from the bituminous substance which abounds there, is in Arabic called Ba/ir Lout, or the Sea of Lot, in allusion to the connexion of Lot with the awful history of the destruction of the guilty cities ** by fire from heaven." The history of this famous lake, or inland sea, which in an hour of dread punishment was formed where the fer- tility and loveliness of the Valley of Siddim had caused ;■ i !.: A LAND OF "BRIMSTONE AND SALT, I/I it (Genesis xiii. lo) to be likened to the "garden of the Lord," exhibits a memorable example of human sin and divine retribution. That in the neighborhood of this, now, drear and desolate spot there were 'ive important cities, we have the strongest testimony, sacred and pro- fane, and that the whole country around, in some measure, shared at least, if it did not equal, the fertility and beauty of the vale of Siddim we may fairly con- clude ; but so utterly did '* the fire from heaven," which destroyed the guilty cities, change the aspect of the dis- trict in which they were placed, that the Scripture (Deut. xxix. 23 j describes it as beinp- converted into precisely what it remain to this day— a id of brim- stone, of salt, and of burning." The dreariness of the country a'* . oni.'a, the pecu- liar aspect and properties of the i.:e and the awful Scripture narrative connected with ii, have naturally caused fancy to make additions *o reality ; we say naturally, for so prone are we to j.\.aggcrate the re- markable of whatever kind, that even the most careful education rarely, if ever, wholly eradicates the propen- sity. As long ago as the time of St. Jerome, who wrote in the fifth century, it was an old tradition that nothing could live in or beside it ; and accordingly the Arabic name iiV Ainont, the Dead, is given to it, as well as that of the Sea of Lot, and it has more than once been gravely asserted that nothing can sink in its waters. Both these exaggerations, as we shall presently show, circ founded upon fact ; but they arc exaggerations notwithstanding. On the east and west this salt lake, or inland sea, is closed in by mountain ranges, on the north it receives the waters of the Jordan, from the plain of Jericho, and on both north and south it lies open to the plain. The exart- dimensions of the Dead Sea — like every particular concerning that strange and melancholy ex- panse of water — have given occasion for the most di- verse statements, on the part both of ancient and modern writers. But all speculation on that head has beea put completely at rest by an actual survey which a party of * : If ill 1 '1 1^ If 1:. ■ ,; HI I 1. ' ■ p> \\i 172 DIMENSIONS OF THE DEA') SEA. officers belonging to the American navy, under the com- maiid of Lieutenant Lynch, made a few years since, (in 1848) of this famous lake. Launching a boat upon the Lake of Tiberias, they descended the Jordan to its out- let in the Dead Sea. From the measurements and other observations of Lieutenant Lynch and his party, it ap- pears that the whole length of the Dead Sea, from its northern to its southern extremity, is forty-six miles, and its greatest breadth about eleven miles. It is en- closed on either side by high mountains, which rise to two thousand feet and upwards above the level of its waters. The depth is very great, seldom less than 1000 feet, and in the deepest part upwards of 1300 feet. To- wards its southern extremity, however, a shallow gulf — in some measure divided from the main body of the sea by a projecting peninsula which juts out from its eastern shores — forms its termination in the direction of the land of Edom, and varies somewhat in extent, as the wet or dry seasons alternately prevail. The most remarkable circumstance connected with the Dead Sea, as a geographical feature, is the extraor- dinary depression of its basin — not merely below the level of the adjoining country, but below the general level of the waters of the "■lobe. The surface of the Dead Sea is ascertained to be upwards of thirteen luin- dred feet lower thnn the level of the Mediterranean. The Sea of Galilee, which is sixty miles to the northward, is 328 feet below the same level : so that the river Jordan which connects the two, flows through a deep and nar- row ravine, with a rapid descent. The Ghor, or valley of the Jordan, is, in fact a deep depression, or cleft, which runs through nearly the whole length of the Holy Land in the direction of north and south, and which is bor- dered on either hand by high cliffs — the termination of the elevated plateau-regions that lie beyond. Jerusa- lem, which is only 17 miles in direct distance from the nearest point of the Dead Sea, lies at a height of 2500 feet adovc the Mediterranean, while the surface of the Dead Sea itself is 1 300 feet Mozu the same level. There is thus a difference of not much less than four thousand SPECIFIC GRAVITY OF ITS WATERS. 173 feet — or nearly three-quarters of a mile — between the two. The deep and precipitous ravine through which the brook Cedron flows is evidence of the fact to the eyes of the traveller. The Dead Sea has no outlet for its waters, which are hence — as is nearly always the case with lakes of such a character — salt ; and they are to such a degree which exceeds that of almost any other known body of water on the globe. The water continually poured in by the Jordan and other streams is of course disposed of by evaporation, which is at all times in rapid progress, ow- ing to the intense heat of the tract of country in »vhich the Dead Sea lies. This heat is a consequence of the great depression of the cistrict below the adjacent coun- try, and of its being so entirely shut in by the surround- ing mountains. A dense vapor is often seen rising from the surface of the Dead Sea. Pieces of asphalt, or bitu- men, are found floating on its waters, and are also collected in lumps upon its western shor-^s, From this circumstance is derived the name which the Romans gave it — the Asphaltic Lake (Lacus Asphallites). Besides their intense saltness, the waters of the Dead Sea are distinguished by t'-^eir great specific gravity, consequent upon the large amount of briny matter which they hold in solution. This gravity is as 1.2 11 com- pared to distilled water as i ; and nearly twenty-five out of every hundred parts of the water have been found by scientific experiment to consist of particles of saline mat- ter. Coupling this fact with the account of this region given in Deuteronomy, — " a land of brimstone, and salt, and burning," — may we not reasonably conclude that in this strange and dreary expanse there are immense subaqueous masses of salt which are in a constant though gradual state of solution } Much of the treeless and herbless desolation of the vast tract around the Dead Sea is, no doubt, attributable to the saline evaporation which is in constant progress ; and, on the other hand, to that absence of vegetation and shelter we may very safely attribute the absence of the winged and other liv- ing creatures which elsewhere lend new beauty and ani- Nl ' y] ■ 5 I Mi i?(i Il J 13 i i' u I ^74 HEBRON. niation to external nature. But it is incorrect to suppose that there is anythinjr destructive to animal life, other than the absence of food and shelter ; yet that represen- tation has been carried so far that it has been gravely asserted that birds cannot attempt even to fly across the lake without perishinj^. Later information and especially that derived from Lieutenant Lynch and his companions during their sur- vey of this famous lake, shows conclusively that no fish lives in its waters, the intense saltness of which is, no doubt, fatal to animal life. Like all the rest of the superstition connected with this lake, the assertion that nothing can sink in its waters is rather an exaggeration than a positive untruth. Owing no doubt, to its great specific gravity, the water is, in fact, remarkable buoyant. We found when swim- ming in it that it was indeed an easy matter to float on it and very difficult to sink. The city of Hebron was at once one of the most an- cient [see Book of Numbers, chap. xii. 22] and one of the most distinguished, of the cities o^ the Holy Land ; here Abraham was buried, here the warrior and bard King David long held his court, and here was born John the Baptist, the great percursor of our Lord. It was situated in the hill country of Judjca, midway between Philistis and the wer.tern shore of the Dead Sea. These high claims to notice caused it to be in former times much visited by the Christian pilgrims to 'Jerusalem, so that it is at the present day one of the most familiarly- known places in the Holy Land. It is a small town, built upon the sloping sides of a narrow valley, in the midst of a district of great fertility; vineyards and olive plantations abound in the neighbor- ing plains, and the sides of the adjacent hills are clothed with rich pastures. The houses of Hebron are chiefly of stone, high and well built, with windows and flat roofs, on which are small domes ; the streets are in gen- eral not more than two or three yards in width, and the pavement is rough and difficult. But the bazaars, which LAND OK Till': rillMSTINKS. I7S arc mostly cohered, are well furnished, and display a considerable variety of goods, among which the glass lamps, and rings and beads of colored glass, for the manufacture of which the town has long been cele- brated, are conspicuous. The inhabitants of Hebron have been variously esti- mated at from five to ten thousand, the lower of which numbers is probably nearer the truth ; they are nearl}' all Mohammedans, There are no resident Chistians, but about a hundred families of Jews, to whom a separ- ate quarter of the town is allotted ; these arc mostly of European birth, and have emigrated hither for the purpose of having their bones laid near the sepulchres of the great progenitors of their race. Hebron contains nine mosques, the largest of which is built over the alleged tombs of the patriarchs. This is accounted by Mohammedans as on^: of their holiest places, and Chris- tians are not allowed to visit it. The country around Hebron is more generally fer- tile, and in parts better cultivated, than is usually found to be the case in the Holy Laud. The tract extending to the eastward, however, between the central mountains and the Dead Sea, is for the most part desert — afford- ing only a scanty pasturage to the wandering Arab, The entire region abounds in ancient sites, which repre- sent places of frequent mention in the sacred writings, and most of which are ruinous and tenantless vill^iges in the present day. Before conducting our reader to the more northerly portion of the Holy Land, we must direct his attention to that portion of Jud;ea which was in ancient times occupied by the Philistines — a people whose almost con- ti iial warfare with the Lsraelite nation occasions the fre4uent mention made of them in the historical books of th'" Old Testament, Their tract of country stretched along to the coast of the Mediterranean, to tlic souLh- ward of Joppa, as far as the desert which borders Pales- tine in that direction, embracing inland a territory, the actual limit of which probably fluctuated with the alter- ■•»> '■ ;;/ 1 1* . !' ^ si' 1, ,1 ^"^ Fl 11. If* 176 THE LARGEST TOWN IN PALESTINE. i- T' >'i ;M mm m nate successes or reverses of the wars in which they were often engaged. In this portion of the Holy Land, as elsewhere, time has wrought its stern and desolating changes upon the works of man, and the cities which were once the towers of Philistia's strength are now for the most part decayed, deserted and overthrown. Of their five principal cities (Josh, xiii 3 J only one — Gaza — possesses any import- ance in modern times. Ascalon (which still preserves its name, under the Arab form of Askiilan) has long since been in ruins and devoid of inhabitants ; Ashdod and li^kron (or, rather, the modern villages of Esdood7\.\\<\ Akir, which occupy their sites) are small and unimport- ant places ; and Gath, even the very situation is at pre- sent unknown. Ascalon, as the student of historv will remember, was important not only in ancient but in medi;eval times, and was the scene of more than one engagement between the Saracens and the Christians during the Crusading period. Within a fortnight afto.r his conquest of the Holy City, GeotTrcy of Boulh'on defeated beneath its walls the immense army of the Egyptian sultan, advancing by steps "too slow to prevent, but who was impatient to revenge, the loss of Jerusalem." Ga::a, however, the most southwardly of the Philis- tine cities, and situated near the southern extremity of the coast of the Holy Land, 'at a distance of between two and three miles from tiie sea) is still important and flourishing. Its situation on the main line of route between Syria and Egypt secures to it considerable caravan traffic. (jaza contains between fifteen and sixteen thousand inhabitants — a greater number than Jerusalem, which it bears the appearance of exceeding in the extent of its crowded dwellings. It is, therefore, the largest town which the Holy Land contains in the present day. The ancient city appears to have been chiefly situated on a low round liill of considerable extent, and elevated about forty or fifty feet above the plain ; part of this is still covered with houses ; but the greate. number stretch 1^ -it NABLOUS. 177 out to the eastward on the plain below, and are mostly built of mud or unburnt bricks, though those of the bet- ter class are of stone. The town is unwalled. The sea is not visible from Gaza, being hidden by a line of low sand hills. Around the north, east, and south sides of the city are numerous gardens, in which apricots, mul- berries, and other fruits are cultivated ; many palm trees are also scattered about, and beyond the gardens on the north is a vast grove of olive trees, which are large and productive. The soil, indeed, is everywhere rich, and produces grains and fruits in abundance. The town has some manufactures of soap and cotton ; the bazaars are well supplied with wares--!; etter, indeed, than those of Jerusalem. CARAVANSKUAf, Oil 1X\. Proceeding northward we come to Naih.ous or Nabu- lus, — the S/iCc/icDi of the Old, and the Syc/iar of the \ew Testament — which is situate.l in the ver\' heart of the Holy Land, at a distance of about thirty-three miles north of Jerusalem. The road thither leaves Jerusalem by the northern or Damascus gate, and passes over the high plain which stretches from the city in that direc- tion. Many interesting Scri[)ture localities occur upon the way — either directly upon or on either side of the line of route that is usually taken. Among these the i » 1 1 ! i .1 . Ml rt i;8 VALLKV OK SClIKCIIErvT. i nil* A'"' 1 ' m :' traveller notes, soon after leavin^^ the Holy City, — to the right of the way, — Amita, Er-Ram and Jeba ;^the ancient Anathoth, Ramah and Gilbeah of Saul ; to the left, Neby, Sannvccl and El-Jccb, which represent the Mizpeh and Gibeon of the Jewish records. Opposite to Jeba, on the other side of a deep valley, is Mnklutnas, the Michmash of Samuel. A short way further on, the route lies past Bire/i, the liecr (or Beeroth) of Scripture; and some distance beyoiid— to the rig;-ht of the direct road to Nablous — lies tlie ruins of Bcitceu, the ancient Bethel. Some distance further, the names o{ El-Liibban and Sdloon, upon either side of the line of route, recall the Lebonah and Shiloh of sacred narrative. The latter now cotisi.s*-s only of ruins ; at the former place there is a small village, with akhan (or caravanserai) for the reception of travellers. From Khan Lubban there is a considerable opening in the mountaius along the Nablous road, and fruitful and beautiful valleys lie to the right hand. The hills immediately about Nablous, which close this opening to the north, have an imposing ctTect. The whole as[)ect of the country hereabout.s — the ancient province of Sa- maria — ap])eared to Dr. Wilson much more fertile in grain than further to the south. The town of Nablous lies in a beautilul and fertile valley, which stretches (in the general direction of east and west) between the opposite and twin summits of Ebal and Gerizim. The former of these mountains is to the northward, the latter to the southward, of the vallc)', above which thc\' rise to an elevation of abt^ut eight hundred feet. Their absolute elevation above the sea is, of course, considerably great, for the ground which forms their base is part of the high plateau of central Palestine, and Nablous itself is stated to lie at a heigth of 1750 feet above the waters of the Mediter- ranean. The valley of vShechem presents one of the most beautiful and inviting landscapes to be found in the Holy Land. It is abundantly irrigated by the v.-ater from numerous fountains, and its sides are for a consid- JANEEN. 179 crable distance studded with villages, many of which are surrounded by cultivated fields and olive groves. The town of Nablous stretches along the north-eastern base of Gerizim, and is partly built upon its lower declivity ; the streets are narrow, the houses high and generally well built of stone; the ba/aars good and well supplied. The population is estimated to be about eight thousand, all Mohammedans, with the exception of five hundred Christians of the Greek church, about a hundred and fifty Samaritans, and the same number of Jews. At the eastern entrance of the valley, about a mile and a half distant from the town, is the spot tra- ditionally considered as the tomb of Joseph, though the present building is only a small Turkish oratory with a wiiitened dome, like the ordinary tpmbs of Mohamme- dan saints; and a little further to the south is Jacob's well, at which our Lord conversed with the woman of Samaria (John iv. 6, 7). It is an excavation in the solid rock, with a depth of thirty-five feet, and is generally well supplied with water. JknekN lies at the entrance of the great valley of Ksdrielon, certainly the plain most remarkable, both physically and historically, in the Holy Land. This plain extend.^ in the ttirection of east and west about twenty miles ;ind is only tliirteen miles across, from north to south, in its widest part. It is known to the Arabs in the present day by the name of Merj Ibn Amir — that is, the plain of the sons of Amir, h^-oin Jeneen two roails lead across the jjlain to Nazareth, which lies nearly due north, among the hills of Galilee, here in sight, and which bound the plain to the north and north-west, as the range of Mount Carmel and the northern hills of Samaria bound it to the west and south. The more eastern of the roads passes the vilhige of Zcnm, the Jezreel of Scripture. Mount Tabor stajids on the north-eastern border af the plain, and the hills of Gilboa stretch along its eastern side. At a further dis- tance to the north-eastward are the city and lake of Ti- bereas, to which we now propose to conduct our readers. !' ' l-i K'f. t 1 V' ./ iiill^ 1^^ ^\r> f : I ' 1 i8o TIBERIAS. TiBERIVS, now called Tubaria, was formerly one ot the chief towns of Galilee ; and received its original name from its founder, Herod, the tetrarch, who so named it in honor of his patror., the Roman emperor Tiberius. There is great reason however, for supposing that there was long before the time of Herod a consid- erable town on, or nearly on, this site : for we are told that important privileges were granted as inducements to people to settle there, a strong prejudice having at first existed against the place on account of its having been built on ground thickly studded with ancient sepul- chres. It is even supposed by some, that Herod built his new city upon the site of the ancient Cinneroth. The Herodian family seem to have taken a great interest in the cit)' of Tiberias, for Josephus — Antiquities, book xix. chap, /—mentions that Herod Agrippa chose it as the scene of a magnificent entertainment which he gave to the kings of Comange, Emesa, the lesser Armenia, Pon- tus, and Colchis. Subsequently to the fall of Jerusalem, Tiberias was the favorite abode of the rabbis and other learned Jews, chiefly, perhaps, because it was also the residence of the patriarch, who was supreme judge among the Jews. This important office became hereditary, and subsisted until the year 429, when it w^as suppressed. Though its walls were rebuilt and strengthened by Justinian, in the sixth century, Tiberias was taken in the year 640, and during the reign of the Emperor Heraclius, by the Saracen Caliph Omar. The city has the lake of Gennesareth, or Sea of Galilee, on one of its sides, and on the other sides it has high though rudely built walls, flanked with circular to^\■ers, which remind the beholder of the Moorish fortresses of Spain. It is situated a little to the northward of some very uiassive and extensive remains of a former fortress. The builder of the modern edifice was the Sheikh Daker, himself a native of Tibe- rias, and he successfully defended the place against the Pasha of Sidon, though his mode of defence was an ex- tremely primitive one. He had but six iron guns of small calib": in the way of artillery ; but high and con- IH ' POPULATION OF TIBERIAS. I8l tinuous rows of uncemcnted stones were laid upon the top of the walls, so that they might be rolled down and crush the besiegers. The inhabitants of Tiberias have often had disputes with the Pashas of Damascus, who have come and planted their cannon against the city and have sometimes beaten down part of the walls, but have never been able to take it. The town hab two gates, and one of them is closed up ; and though the town had formerly been protected by a ditch, it has been filled up with cultivable soil. The Jews would seem to be somewhat numerous here in proportion to the size of the place, for we found two of their synagogues in about the middle of the town, similar in design though inferior in execution, to that of Jerusalem. There arc a good though small bazaar, and two or three coffee-houses, but the houses in general are small and mean, some few, indeed, being of stone, but most of them of dried mud. The latest estimate of the population of Tiberias makes the number of its inhabitants fewer than two thousand, about eight hundred of whom are Jews. There are only a few families of Christinns. Tiberias, with all the neighboring region of Galilee, suffered severely from an earthquake on the ist of Jan- uary, i(S37. The walls of the city, and most of its build- ings, were overthrown, and many hundred of the inhabi- tants were buried in the ruins. The effects of this awful visitation are everywhere plainly visible. 'lie walls are in many places rent, broken, anc; brea J : even the governor's palace is little better tb.tn a rv The whole place has a mean appearance from a di-tance, and the aspect is not improved upon closer api ach. But if the modern Tubaria is thus ' iltry, not so wasi tbe ancient Tiberias. Both to the so and the north oi the existing town there are numerous and extensive ruins. The old city extended to some distance to the north of the modern town, and also st»*etched along the lake as far as the baths of Emmaus. which are a full mile to the south of the modern town ; and at the northern extremity of the ruins are the remains f the ancient ■i 'i, r. }' ■t ill !i ? ^-, i: 182 ST. PETERS CHURCH. it',- m I . town, which arc discernible by means of the walls and other buildings, as well as by fragments of columns, some of which are of beautiful red granite. The waters of Emmaus, or the baths, which name is still preserved in the Arabic Hammam, the modern name, have from a very remote period been highly cele- brated for efficacy in tumors, rheumatic pains, and even gout. The water is so hot that the hand can not endure it, and even after the water has remained twelve hours in the bath, to cool it sufficiently for use, it is often at a temperature of above 100 cleg. These waters contain a strong solution of common salt, with a considerable ad- mixture of sulphur and iron. It has a strong sulphurous smell, and tastes bitter, and something like common salt. Among the most interesting objects in T'berias is an ancient church dedicated to St. Peter, and erei ted by the Elmpress Helena upon the spot on which (Join xxi. i) our Lord appeared to Peter. This buildihg, which .stands close to the bank of the lake at the north-eastern angle of the town, is a vaulted room about thirty feet long by fifteen in width r.r.d height, with four arched and open windows on either side, and one small window over the door. The city of Tiberias occupies a high position in the regards of the Jews, as it is one of the four Holy Cities of tlu Talmud, because Jacob is supposed to have re- sided here, and it is supposed by the Talmud that from Lake Tiberias the expected Messiah of the Jews is to rise. Arid it is an established belief among the Tews that the world will be resolved into its original chaos 'unless prayers be addressed to the God of Israel, at least twice in every week, in each of the f^.oly Ci^^es of the Talmud — namely, Tiberias, Safed, Jerusalem, .and He- bron. When it is added that the Jews have the most entire religious liberty here, it will readily be imagined that devotees and pilgrims flock from lime to time to each of these four cities; especially as large con- tributions are made for them by missionaries sent for the purpose through Syria, along the shores of Africa :' ii ANNUAL TRIBUTE OF THE JEWS. 183 from Damietta to Mogadore, along those of Europe from Venice to Gibraltar, and to Constantinople and the neighboring countries. As the missionaries vehement- ly urge the dangers consequent upon the prescribed prayers being neglected in the floly Cities, the jew§ in all parts contribute most liberally, especially thostf of London and Gibraltar, the latter of whom are said to send from 4000 to 5000 Spanish dollars annually. It is probable that great numbers of Jews aiunially pay a visit to each of the Holy Cities, with a view to ultimately settling in Jerusalem, and w-hatever toils and privations they may encounter on the way are held to be amply recompensed by the privilege of laying their bones in the land of their fAthers. The large sums sent to Tiberias by the Jews of other countries seem to have had the seriously evil effect of causing a vast proportion of the populatio;i to fall into a state of sloth ; in a word, while all must live — and it is stited that no Jew can live tolera' v at Tiberias at less than £^0 per annum — the intellig^ ,.c and the skilful arc but few, and the devotees overwhelmingly numerous. The natural consequence is, that mercantile spirit and its concomitant wealth are but little known here. When we were at Tiberias there were only two resident mer- chants among the Jews, and they were contemptuously spoken of by the devotees as being mere knferz, or un- believers. At the khan at the foot of Mount Tabor there is every Monday a market held, called the market of the khan, and thither the people of Tiberias repair to exchange their merchandise for other commodities, cincfly cattle. Most of the inhabitants are said to be more or less engaged in the cultivation of the soil ; but though it produces wheat, barley, tobacco, grapes, and melons in such profusion, in proportion to the labor be- stowed, that upwards of three hundred weight of fine melons may commonl}'^ he bought for aboui eight shil- lings li^nglish, the same indolence is shown in agriculture as in trade. Situated as they are upon the very edge of the splendid lake, one would at the least suppose that they would avail themselves to the utmost of its finny II m i % (: 184 LAKE OF TIBERIAS. treasures. But they fish only by casting nets from the shore ; and not a single boat of any description was to be seen on the lake. The Lake of Tiberias, also called the Lake of Genne.iareth, and the Sea of Galilee, is a most interest- ing feature of this neighborhood, connected as it is with our Lord's sublime rebuking of the wind and the raging waters, as related in Luke viii. 23, 24. Josephus informs us that this lake, through which the stream of the Jor- dan passes, is betv/een seventeen and eighteen miles long, and from five to six miles broad. The observa- tions of Dr. Robinson and other recent travellers show that the measures given by the learned Jew are not greatly wide of the truth. The Lake of Tiberias is about fourteen English miles in length, and about seven miles across in its widest part. Its waters cover an area of about seventy-six square miles. The water of this lake — unlike that of the Dead Sea — is perfectly sweet and pure, and refreshing to the taste. It abounds in fish, and is the resort of great numbers of the feathered tribe. The hills rise in general steeply from its shores upon either side, and attain to the eastward a height of a thousand feet above its waters. Shipless and even boatless as this lake now is, we learn from Josephus that during the obstinate and san- guinary wars between the Romans and the Jews, consid- erable fleets of war-ships floated upon its waters, and very sanguinary battles took place there. One engagCT ment, especially, mentioned by Josephus, when the Jews had revolted, under Agrippa, was most sanguinary, Titus and Trajan being present, as well as Vespasian, who commanded the Roman forces. The terrible de- feat by the Romans under Titus, of the revolted Jews at Taricheae had caused vast multitudes of the fugitives to seek safety in the shipping on Lake Tiberias ; but the in- defatigable Romans speedily built and equipped numer- ous vessels still larger than those of the Jews, and the latter were totally defeated ; and, according to Josephus, both the lake and its shores were covered with blood SANGUINARY NAVAL ENGAGEMENT. 185 and mangled bodies to such an extent that the very air was infected. It is added that in this battle on Lake Tiberias and the previous engagement at Taricheae up- wards of six thousand perished ; and, as if this horrible amount of carnage were insufficient, twelve hundred were subsequently massacred in cold blood in the am- phitheatre of Tiberias, and a considerable number were presented to Agrippa as slaves. The present aspect of the lake is little calculated to call up any idea of that dread day of strife. Though occasionally the violent winds which descend from the neighboring mountains lash the waters of " deep Galilee" into a tempest, those tempests are usually as brief as they are violent, and at other times its bosom is as un- moved as the Dead Sea. Hemmed in as at is on either side by mountains, the general view of its broad ex- panse calls up the idea of sublimity rather than that of softer beauty ; and it is probably their preference of the latter kind of beauty that has caused some travellers to speak somewhat depreciatingly of the lake and its sur- rounding scenery. The Lake of Gennesarcth is sur- rounded by objects well calculated to heighten the sol- emn impression, and affords one of the most striking prospects in the Holy Land. The appearance of the lake is grand, though the barren and unwooded scenery around gives a shade of dullness to the picture, a dull- ness which deepens down even to melancholy as we gaze upon the unbroken calmness and silence of the waters ; a calmness and silence unrelieved even by the form of a boat, or the splashing of an oar. The shores of the Lake Tiberias were formerly stud- ded with towns, of most of which the last traces are so completely swept away that it is difficult to conjecture their sites with anything like tolerable correctness. The village of El-Mejdel, a (cw miles nonh of Tiberias, no doubt marks the site of the Magdala of Matthew xv. 39 ; and some ruins which bear the name of Khan Minyeh, (further to the northward, on the shore of the lake,) per- haps represent the Capernaum of the Gospel narratives. The latter point, however, is matterof dispute, and some I :■!' 1- =) ■f :.Mi - i 'Hi 1 *■ 1 .; i Ij Ml 1 86 CASTLE OF THE TIGEONS. more considerable remains of an ancient city, bearing the name of Tell Hoom, have been also claimed as the site of the city which was " exalted unto heaven." They lie still further to the northward, a short distance from the point where the Jordan enters the lake. We now proceed to an antique fortification which stands at a mile and a half or two miles to the west of the supposed Magdala, and which is called Kalaat Ha- mam, or the Castle of the Pigeons, on account of the vast numbsrs of those birds which have their abode there. The old fortification chiefly consists of two ex- tending peaks of a lofty clift", forming, with the addition of a very strong though very rude wall of masonry, the enclosure of a considerable triangular space. The Cas- tle of the Pigeons stands on the northern side of a pass or gorge which is called VVady Hymam, or the Valley of the Pigeons, there are on the south of it, and in the plain of Hottein, the ruins of a town or village of con- siderable size. This locality was the scene of a bloody and decisive battle between the Christian and Saracen armies, during the period of the Crusades, (A.D. 1187,) the result of which was disastrous to the followers of the Cross. The crusading army was almost annihilated in this contest, which led to the immediate submission of nearl) all Palestine to the arms of Saladin, who be- came, three months afterwards, master of the Holy City. The Latin writers generally speak of this contest as the battle of Tiberias. Of the numerous villages which formerly clustered around the shores of the Lake of Tiberia.s, few traces now remain. The exact site of Bethsaida of Galilee — the birth-place of Andrew and Peter, and Philip— is un- discovered. Chorazin, mentioned in companionship with it (Matt. xi. 21 ; Luke x. 13), is found in some ruins which bear the name of Gerazi, lying a short distance from the nortli-western shore of the lake. A second Bethsaida, situated, not in Galilee, but in the district of Caulonitis, beyond Jordan, is found marked by some ^ruins which bear the name of Et-Tell {i.e., the hill or mound), a short distance above the point where the MOUNT OF THE BEATITUDES. 187 Jordan enters the lake. The latter Bethsaida is generally regarded by modern critics as the scene of the miracles recorded in Luke ix. 10, and Mark viii. 22. From Tiberias, ^'he traveller frequently proceeds — by a road which leads through the intervening hills — to visit Nazareth, passing many interesting localities on the way. At about six miles distant from Tiberias on this line of road, we came to a spot called Hcdjar-el-NaszaraJi ; the Stones of the Na::arciies — i.e., Christians ; and on this spot are four or Ave blocks of black stone, upon which our Savior is said to have reclined while addressing the multitude during the miracle of the five loaves and two small ^shes (Luke ix. 10), of which this neighborhood is the traditional scene. All the country hereabouts is hilly. The soil is both good and deep, and productive of excellent pasture. But the indolence of Tiberias seems to be in equal force here ; for with this excellent pasture the people have but poor stocks. At about three miles distance from the Stones of the Nazarenes is an oblong hill, wliich has at one of its ex- tremities a double projecting summit. From these sum- mits the natives have given the hill the name of the Horns of Hottein, but the Christians call it the Mount of the Beatitudes. Seen from the plain, to the southward it has the aspect of a low ridge of uneven rock with a loftier mount at either end, but on the eastern mount there is a level surface, clothed with very fine herbage. About the centre of this mount are the foundations of a small church, about two-and-twenty feet square, on a somewhat elevated site, and occupying the spot from which our Savior is said to have delivered his sublime Sermon on the Mount. This legend requires no other refutation than the fact that our Savior descended from the Mount directly to Capernaum, which consequently must have been in its immediate vicinity. The distance of the so-called Mount of the Beatitudes from the shores of the lake (upon which Capernaum undoubtedly stood) is too great to admit the supposition that it is correctly named. i'i' H ih :' .hi