It was of the older building that the Vicomte made the following remarks:—"The church of the Holy Sepulchre, composed of several churches erected upon an unequal surface, illumined by a multitude of lamps, is singularly mysterious; a sombre light pervades it, favourable to piety and profound devotion. Christian priests of various sects inhabit different parts of the edifice. From the arches above, where they nestle like pigeons, from the chapels below and subterraneous vaults, their songs are heard at all hours both of the day and night. The organ of the Latin monks, the cymbals of the Abyssinian priest, the voice of the Greek caloyer, the prayer of the solitary Armenian, the plaintive accents of the Coptic friar, alternately, or all at once, assail your ear. You know not whence these accents of praise proceed; you inhale the perfume of incense without perceiving the hand that burns it: you merely observe the pontiff, who is going to celebrate the most awful of mysteries on the very spot where they were accomplished, pass quickly by, glide behind the columns, and vanish in the gloom of the temple.
"Christian readers will perhaps inquire what were my feelings upon entering this sacred place. I really cannot tell. So many reflections rushed at once upon my mind, that I was unable to dwell upon any particular idea. I continued nearly half an hour upon my knees in the little chamber of the Holy Sepulchre, with my eyes riveted upon the stone, from which I had not the power to turn them. One of the two monks who accompanied me remained prostrate on the marble by my side, while the other, with the Testament in his hand, read to me by the light of the lamps the passages relating to the sacred tomb. All I can say is that when I beheld this triumphant Sepulchre, I felt nothing but my own weakness; and that when my guide exclaimed with St. Paul, O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory? I listened, as if death were about to reply that he was conquered and enchained in this monument. Where shall we look in antiquity for anything so impressive, so wonderful, as the last scenes described by the Evangelists? These are not the absurd adventures of a deity foreign to human nature: it is a most pathetic history,—a history which not only extorts tears by its beauty, but whose consequences, applied to the universe, have changed the face of the earth. I had just beheld the monuments of Greece, and my mind was still profoundly impressed with their grandeur; but how far inferior were the sentiments which they excited to those I felt at the sight of the places commemorated in the gospel!"[93]
We must not presume to follow the ardent pilgrim along theVia Dolorosa, the name given to the way which the Saviour passed from the house of Pilate to the Mount of Calvary, nor can we stop to revere the arch, calledEcce Homo, where, we are told, the window may still be seen from which the Roman judge exclaimed to the vindictive Jews, "Behold the Man!" We cannot resign our belief to the minute description which recognises the house of Simon the Pharisee, where Mary Magdalene confessed her sins; the prison of St. Peter, and the dwelling of Mary the mother of Mark, in which the same apostle took refuge when he was set at liberty by the angel; and the mansion of Dives, the rich man at whose gate the mendicant Lazarus was laid, full of sores.
On crossing the small ravine which divides the modern city from Mount Zion, the attention of the traveller is drawn to three ancient monuments, or more properly ruins. Covered with buildings comparatively modern,—the house of Caiaphas,—the place where Christ held his Last Supper,—and the tomb or palace of David. The first of these is now a church, the duty of which is performed by the Armenians; the second, consecrated by the affecting solemnity, with the memory of which it is still associated, presents a mosque and a Turkish hospital; while the third, a small vaulted apartment, contains only three sepulchres formed of dark-coloured atone. This holy hill is equally celebrated in the Old Testament and in the New. Here the successor of Saul built a city and a royal dwelling,—here he kept for three months the Ark of the Covenant;—here the Redeemer instituted the sacrament which commemorates his death,—here he appeared to his disciples on the day of his resurrection,—and here the Holy Ghost descended on the apostles. The place hallowed by the Last Supper, if we may believe the early Fathers, was transformed into the first Christian temple the world ever saw, where St. James the Less was consecrated the first bishop of Jerusalem, and where he presided in the first council of the church. Finally, it was from this spot that the apostles, in compliance with the injunction to go and teach all nations, departed, without purse and without scrip, to seat their religion upon all the thrones of the earth.
Descending Mount Zion on the east side, you perceive in the valley the Fountain and Pool of Siloam, so celebrated in the history of our Saviour's miracles. The brook itself is ill supplied with water, and, compared with the ideas formed in the mind by the fine invocation of the poet, usually creates disappointment. Going a few paces to the northward, you come to the source of the scanty rivulet, which is called by some the Fountain of the Virgin, from an opinion that she frequently came hither to drink. It appears in a recess about twenty feet lower than the surface, and under an arched vault of masonry tolerably well executed. The rock had been originally hewn down to reach this pool; and a small crooked passage, of which only the beginning is seen, is said to convey the water out of the Valley of Siloam, and to supply the means of irrigating the little gardens still cultivated in that spot. Notwithstanding the dirty state of the water, and its harsh and brackish taste, it is still used by devout pilgrims for diseases of the eye.[94]
It is said to have a kind of ebb and flow, sometimes discharging its current like the Fountain of Vaucluse, at others retaining and scarcely suffering it to run at all. The Levites, we are likewise told, used to sprinkle the water of Siloam on the altar at the Feast of Tabernacles, saying, "Ye shall draw water with joy from the wells of salvation." The reader will find on the opposite page a representation of the Fountain or Pool of Siloam, as it appeared to the eye of an able traveller; a considerable part of the arch having fallen down, or been destroyed by the barbarians who continue to hold Jerusalem in subjection.
The Valley of Jehoshaphat stretches between the eastern walls of the city and the Mount of Olives, containing a great variety of objects, to which allusion is made in the Sacred Writings. It was sometimes called the King's Dale, from a reference to an event recorded in the history of Abraham, and was afterward distinguished by the name of Jehoshaphat, because that sovereign erected in it a magnificent tomb. This narrow vale seems to have always served as a burying-place for the inhabitants of the holy city: there you meet with monuments of the most remote ages, as well as of the most modern times: thither the descendants of Jacob resort from the four quarters of the globe, to yield up their last breath; and a foreigner sells to them, for its weight in gold, a scanty spot of earth to cover their remains in the land of their forefathers. Observing many Jews, whom I could easily recognise by their yellow turbans, quick dark eyes, black eyebrows, and bushy beards, walking about the place, and reposing along the Brook Kedron in a pensive mood, the pathetic language of the Psalmist occurred to me, as expressing the subject of their meditation—'By the rivers we sat down and wept when we remembered Zion.' Upon frequently inquiring the motive that prompted them in attempting to go to Jerusalem, the answer was, 'To die in the land of our fathers.'[95]
This valley or dale still exhibits a very desolate appearance. The western side is a high chalk-cliff supporting the walls of the city; above which you perceive Jerusalem itself; while the eastern acclivity is formed by the Mount of Olives and the Mount of Offence, so called from the idolatry which oppresses the fame of Solomon. These two hills are nearly naked, and of a dull red colour. On their slopes are seen, here and there, a few bleak and parched vines, some groves of wild olive-trees, wastes covered with hyssop, chapels, oratories, and mosques in ruins. At the bottom of the valley you discover a bridge of a single arch, thrown across the channel of the Brook Kedron. The stones in the Jewish cemetery look like a heap of rubbish at the foot of the Mount of Offence, below the Arab village of Siloane, the paltry houses of which are scarcely to be distinguished from the surrounding sepulchres. From the stillness of Jerusalem, whence no smoke arises and no noise proceeds,—from the solitude of these hills, where no living creature is to be seen,—from the ruinous state of all these tombs, overthrown, broken, and half-open, you would imagine that the last trumpet had already sounded, and that the Valley of Jehoshaphat was about to render up its dead.
Amid this scene of desolation three monuments arrest the eyes of the intelligent pilgrim,—the tombs of Zachariah, of Absalom, and of the king whose name still distinguishes the valley. The first-mentioned of these is a square mass of rock, hewn down into form, and isolated from the quarry out of which it is cut by a passage of twelve or fifteen feet wide on three of its sides; the fourth or western front being open towards the valley and to Mount Moriah, the foot of which is only a few yards distant. This huge stone is eight paces in length on each side, and about twenty feet high in the front, and ten feet high at the back; the hill on which it stands having a steep ascent. It has four semicolumns cut out of the same rock on each of its faces, with a pilaster at each angle, all of a mixed Ionic order, and ornamented in bad taste. The architraves, the full moulding, and the deep overhanging cornice which finishes the square, are all perfectly after the Egyptian manner; and the whole is surmounted by a pyramid, the sloping aides of which rise from the very edges of the square below, and terminate in a finished point.
The body of this monument, we have already stated, is one solid mass of rock, as well as its semicolumns on each face; but the surmounting pyramid appears to be of masonry. Its sides, however, are perfectly smooth, like the coated pyramids of Sahara and Dashour, and not graduated by stages like those of Dijzeh in lower Egypt.
Inconsiderable in size and paltry in its ornaments, this monument, as Mr. Buckingham observes, is eminently curious. There is no appearance of an entrance into any part of it; so that it seems; if a tomb, to have been as firmly closed as the Egyptian pyramids, and, perhaps, for the same respect for the repose of the dead. It is probable, indeed, that the original style and plan of the building are derived from the country of the Pharaohs; while the Grecian columns and pilasters may be the work of a much later period, when the Jews had learned to combine with the massy piles of their more ancient architecture the elegant lightness which distinguished the times of the Seleucidae.[96]
In the immediate vicinity is the tomb of Jehoshaphat,—a cavern which is more commonly called the Grotto of the Disciples, from an idea that they went frequently thither to be taught by their Divine Master. The front of this excavation has two Doric pillars of small size, but of just proportions. In the interior are three chambers, all of them rude and irregular in their form, in one of which were several gravestones, removed, we may suppose, from the open ground for greater security. Like all the rest, they were flat slabs of an oblong shape, from three to six inches in thickness, and evidently a portion of the limestone rock which composes the adjoining hills.
Opposite to this, on the east, is the reputed tomb of Absalom, resembling nearly in the size, form, and decoration of its square base that of Zachariah already described; except that it is sculptured with the metopes and triglyphs of the Doric order. This is surmounted by a sharp conical dome, having large mouldings running round its base, and on the summit something like an imitation of flame. There is here again so strange a mixture of style and ornament, that one knows not to what age to attribute the monument as a whole. The square mass below is solid, and the Ionic columns which are seen on each of its faces are half-indented in the rock itself. The dome is of masonry, and on the eastern side there is a square aperture in it. Generally speaking, the sight of this monument rather confirms the idea suggested by the tomb of Zachariah, that the hewn mass of solid rock, the surmounting pyramid and dome of masonry, and the sculptured frieze and Ionic columns wrought on the faces of the square below were works of different periods; being probably ancient sepulchres, the primitive character of which had been changed by the subsequent addition of foreign ornaments. There is, besides, every reason to believe that this monument, represented below, really occupies the site of the one which was set up by him whose name it bears. "Now Absalom in his lifetime had reared up for himself a pillar, which is in the King's Dale: for he said, I have no son to keep my name in remembrance; and he called the pillar after his own name: and it is called unto this day Absalom's Place."[97]
Chateaubriand is of opinion, that except the Pool of Bethesda at Jerusalem, we have no remains of the primitive architecture of its inhabitants. This reservoir, a hundred and fifty feet long and forty broad, is still to be seen near St. Stephen's Gate, where it bounded the Temple on the north. The sides are walled by means of large stones joined together by iron cramps, and covered with flints imbedded in a substance resembling plaster. Here the lambs destined for sacrifice were washed; and it was on the brink of this pool that Christ said to the paralytic man, "Arise, take up thy bed and walk." It receives a melancholy interest from the fact that it is probably the last remnant of Jerusalem as it appeared in the days of Solomon and of his immediate successors.
It cannot be denied that the tombs in the Valley of Jehoshaphat display an alliance of Egyptian and Grecian taste; and, in naturalizing in their capital the architecture of Memphis and of Athens, it is equally certain that the Jews mixed with it the forms of their own peculiar style. From this combination resulted a heterogeneous kind of structure, forming, as it were, the link between the Pyramids and the Parthenon,—monuments in which you discover a sombre, yet bold and elevated genius, associated with a pleasing and cultivated imagination.
Our limits forbid us to follow the footsteps of the pilgrim in his minute survey of the "Sepulchres of the Kings," which, it is acknowledged, cannot be traced back to a remoter era than that of the Grecian dynasty at Antioch and Damascus. There are several other tombs and grottoes, to which tradition has attached venerable names, and even consecrated them as the scene of important events; but as they are not remarkable on any other account, we shall not extend to an undue length our description of the holy places under the walls of Jerusalem.
We shall simply remark, that a difference of opinion exists among modern travellers in regard to the extent of the ancient city, the ground which it actually covered, the changes that it has since undergone in point of locality, and hence, in respect to the position of some of the more prominent objects which attract the attention of the inquisitive tourist in our own days. Dr. Clarke has distinguished himself by some bold speculations on this head, the effect of which is to derange all the received notions relative to the scene of the crucifixion and the place of the Holy Sepulchre. It will indeed be readily granted, that it is a matter of very small importance to the faith of a Christian to determine whether the decease which was accomplished at Jerusalem took place on the north-western or the south-eastern extremity of that metropolis. But as the history and tradition of many ages have fixed the spot where the cross was erected and where the new tomb in the rock had its situation, it is requisite that the arguments of a writer who himself pays so little respect to authority should be examined with attention. In this case, it is obvious, an inspection of the ground candidly and distinctly reported is of much more weight than the most ingenious reasoning if destitute of facts; on which account, we are happy to have it in our power to refer to the journal of a learned gentleman hitherto unpublished, who about three years ago travelled in Syria and Palestine.
"We passed by the place of St. Stephen's martyrdom down into the Valley of Jehoshaphat. This valley, independently of associations, is highly picturesque. It is deep and narrow; the lower part is green with scattered olives. The slope up towards the city is also smooth and green, and crowned by the towers and battlements. On ascending the Mount of Olives, which we did towards the south, we had a splendid view of Jerusalem. The chief ornaments are the two domes of the Holy Sepulchre, the mosque of Omar, and another large mosque with a smaller dome; but the white houses make a good show, and the walls are picturesque. On looking at Jerusalem from this place, the great features seemed to me to agree entirely with the established maps, and Dr. Clarke's theory appeared quite untenable. The only difficulty is, that there is no valley whichruns up all the wayso as to divide entirely Mount Zion from Mount Moriah. A ravine does run far enough to cut off the Temple, but no more. The extent of this difficulty must depend on the description left us of the Tyropaeum and Millo. Was there a deep valley such as time and change might not have obliterated? The people of the convent gave the name of the Mount of Offence to a low hill on the south of the Mount of Olives; but Clarke seems to think that the real Mount of Offence is that divided by Jehinnom from Zion, and called by our guide Monte de Mal Consiglio. We visited the Mohammedan chapel over the place of the Ascension, and saw the alleged print of Christ's foot. We next went to the place called Viri Galilaei (ye men of Galilee), and, after looking in vain for Dr. Clarke's pagan remains, descended towards the Cave of the Prophets. We saw the well where Nehemiah found the fire of the altar, and then went up the Valley of Hinnom; first to the tomb called the Crypt of the Apostles, close to the Aceldama, or Field of Blood. We saw many other grottoes; one had [Greek: taes hagias Sion] inscribed upon it, as had another much farther up. Near this last was that which Clarke maintained to be the Holy Sepulchre. We saw one which would do very well for it; but so would many others. This one was a cave, with a place for a body cut out in the back part of it, but raised like a stone trough, not sunk in the floor. There is, of course, not a shadow of reason for thinking Clarke's cave to be the real one, and very little that I can see for doubting that the nominal Holy Sepulchre is so in fact, or, rather, that it ison the siteof the real one, which must have been destroyed when Adrian erected his temple to Venus on the spot. From these caves we went by the Pool of Bathsheba to the Bethlehem Gate, and so along the west side of the town to the Tombs of the Judges and Kings, which lie north or north-west of the city. I observed large foundations of ancient walls and heaps of rubbish west of the modern town, where Clarke seems to assume that there was anciently no part of the city. There and on the north I also observed wells opening into large covered reservoirs for water. We entered only one of the Tombs of the Judges, the rest being insignificant. That one was large, with a pediment which had dentiles and other Greek ornaments. Inside there were at least three chambers, surrounded by receptacles for bodies. In returning we went to the Tombs of the Kings, which, like the others, are cut out of the rock, and, like them too, have Grecian ornaments. There is one large cave; the front has a handsome entablature, the upper part ornamented with alternate circular garlands, bunches of grapes, and an ornament of acanthus leaves; the lower with a rich band of foliage disposed with much elegance."[98]
Hence, it appears that the weight of evidence preponderates decidedly in favour of the common opinions in regard to the form of the ancient city and the places which are usually denominated holy. Why, then, should any one attempt to disturb the belief or acquiescence of the Christian world on a subject concerning which all nations have hitherto found reason to agree? The members of the primitive church had better means than we have of being fully informed respecting the scenes of the evangelical history; and it is manifest that amid all the changes which ensued in Jerusalem, either from conquest or superstition, nothing was more unlikely than that the faithful should forget the sacred spot where their redemption was completed, or that they should consent to transfer their veneration to any other.[99]
Description of the Country South and East of Jerusalem.
Garden of Gethsemane; Tomb of Virgin Mary; Grottoes on Mount of Olives;View of the City; Extent and Boundaries; View of Bethany and Dead Sea;Bethlehem; Convent; Church of the Nativity described; Paintings; Music;Population of Bethlehem; Pools of Solomon; Dwelling of Simon the Leper; OfMary Magdalene; Tower of Simeon; Tomb of Rachel; Convent of John; FineChurch; Tekoa; Bethulia; Hebron; Sepulchre of Patriarchs; Albaid; Kerek;Extremity of Dead Sea; Discoveries of Bankes, Legh, and Irby and Mangles;Convent of St. Saba; Valley of Jordan; Mountains; Description of LakeAsphaltites; Remains of Ancient Cities in its Basin; Quality of itsWaters; Apples of Sodom; Tacitus, Seetzen, Hasselquist, Chateaubriand;Width of River Jordan; Jericho-Village of Rihhah; Balsam; Fountain ofElisha; Mount of Temptation; Place of Blood; Anecdote of Sir F. Henniker;Fountain of the Apostles; Return to Jerusalem; Markets; Costume; Science;Arts; Language; Jews; Present Condition of that People.
In proceeding from Jerusalem towards Bethany, the traveller skirts the Mount of Olives; or, if he wishes to enjoy the magnificent view which it presents, both of the city and of the extensive tract watered by the Jordan, he ascends its heights, and at the same time inspects the remains of sacred architecture still to be seen on its summit. As he passes from the eastern gate, the Garden of Gethsemane meets his eyes, as well as the tomb which bears the name of the Blessed Virgin. This has a building over it with a pretty front, although the Grecian ornaments sculptured in marble are not in harmony with the pointed arch at the entrance. It is approached by a paved court, now a raised way, leading from the Mount of Olives over the Brook Kedron. The descent into it is formed by a handsome flight of steps composed of marble, being about fifty in number and of a noble breadth. About midway down are two arched recesses in the sides, said to contain the ashes of St. Anne, the mother of Mary, and of Joseph her husband. Reaching the bottom of the stairs, the visiter is shown the tomb of the holy Virgin herself, which is in the form of a simple bench coated with marble. Here the Greeks and Armenians say mass by turns, and near it there is an humble altar for the Syrian Christians; while opposite to it is one for the Copts, consisting of earth, and entirely destitute of lamps, pictures, covering, and every other species of ornament. Chateaubriand tells us that the Turks had a portion of this grotto: Buckingham asserts that they have no right to enter it, nor could he "learn from the keepers of the place that they ever had!" whereas the author of the Anonymous Journal, from which we have already quoted, states distinctly that "there is a place reserved for the Mussulmans to pray, which at the Virgin's Tomb one would not expect to be much in request." So much for the clashing of authorities on the part of writers who could have no wish to deceive!
There are various other grottoes on the acclivity of the hill, meant to keep alive the remembrance of certain occurrences which are either mentioned in the gospel, or have been transmitted to the present age by oral tradition. Among these is one which is supposed to be the scene of the agony and the bloody sweat; a second, that marks the place where St. Peter and the two sons of Zebedee fell asleep when their Master retired to pray; and a third, indicating the spot whereon Judas betrayed the Son of Man with a kiss. Here also is pointed out the rock from which our Saviour predicted the sack of Jerusalem and the destruction of the Temple,—that dreadful visitation, of which the traces are still most visible both within and around the walls. The curious pilgrim is further edified by the sight of a cavern where the apostles were taught the Lord's Prayer; and of another where the same individuals at a later period met together to compose their Creed. On the principal top of the Mount of Olives,—for the elevated ground presents three separate summits,—are a mosque and the remains of a church. The former is distinguished by a lofty minaret which commands an extensive prospect; but the latter is esteemed more remarkable, as containing the piece of rock imprinted with the mark of our Saviour's foot while in the act of ascension.
But the view of the venerable metropolis itself, which stretches out its lance and sacred enclosures under the eye of the traveller, is still more interesting than the recapitulation of ambiguous relics. It occupies an irregular square of about two miles and a half in circumference. Eusebius gave a measurement of twenty-seven stadia, amounting to nearly a mile more than its present dimensions; a difference which can easily be explained, by adverting to the alterations made on the line of fortifications by the Saracens and Turks, especially on the north-west and western extremities of the town. Its shortest apparent side is that which faces the east, and in this is the supposed gate of the ancient Temple, shut up by the Mussulmans from a superstitious motive, and the small projecting stone on which their prophet is to sit when he shall judge the world assembled in the vale below. The southern side is exceedingly irregular, taking quite a zigzag direction; the south-western entrance being terminated by a mosque built over the supposed sepulchre of David, on the elevation of Mount Zion. The form and exact direction of the western and northern walls are not distinctly seen from the position now assumed; but every part of them appears to be a modern work, and executed at the same time. They are flanked at certain distances by square towers, and have battlements all along their summits, with loopholes for arrows or musketry close to the top. Their height is about fifty feet, but they are not surrounded by a ditch. The northern wall runs over ground which declines slightly outward; the eastern wall passes straight along the brow of Mount Moriah, with the deep valley of Jehoshaphat below; the southern wall crosses Mount Zion, with the vale of Hinnom at its feet; and the western wall is carried over a more uniform level, near the summit of the bare hills which terminate at the Jaffa gate.[100]
Turning towards the east, the traveller sees at the foot of the hill the little village of Bethany, so often mentioned in the history of our Lord and of his personal followers; and at a greater distance, a little more on the left, he beholds the magnificent scenery of the Jordan and the Dead Sea.
There are two roads from Jerusalem to Bethany; the one passing over the Mount of Olives; the other, the shorter and easier, winding round the eastern side of it. This village is now both small and poor, the cultivation of the soil around it being very much neglected by the indolent Arabs into whose hands it has fallen. Here are shown the ruins of a house, said to have belonged to Lazarus whom our Saviour raised from the dead; and, in the immediate neighbourhood, the faithful pilgrim is invited to devotion in a grotto, which is represented as the actual tomb wherein the miracle was performed. The dwellings of Simon the Leper, of Mary Magdalene, and of Martha are pointed out by the Mussulmans, who traffic on the credulity of ignorant Christians. Nay, they undertake to identify the spot where the barren fig tree withered under the curse, and the place where Judas put an end to his life, oppressed by a more dreadful malediction.
There is no traveller of any nation, whatever may be his creed or his impressions in regard to the gospel, who does not make the usual journey from the Jewish capital to Bethlehem the place of our Lord's nativity. The road, as we find related, passes over ground extremely rocky and barren, diversified only by some cultivated patches bearing a scanty crop of grain, and by banks of wild-flowers which grow in great profusion. On the way the practised guide points out the ruined tower of Simeon, who upon beholding the infant Messiah expressed his readiness to leave this world; the Monastery of Elias, now in possession of the Greeks; and the tomb of Rachel, rising in a rounded top like the whitened sepulchre of an Arab sheik. "This," says the honest Maundrell, "may probably be the true place of her interment; but the present sepulchral monument can be none of that which Jacob erected, for it appears plainly to be a modern and Turkish structure." Farther on is the well of which David longed to drink, and of which his mighty men, at the risk of their lives, procured him a supply; and here opens to view, in a great valley, that most interesting of all pastoral scenes, where the angel of the Omnipotent appeared by night to the shepherds, to announce the glad tidings that Christ was born in Bethlehem.[101]
As there was another town of the same name in the tribe of Zebulon, the Bethlehem that we now approach was usually distinguished by the addition of Ephrata, or by a reference to the district in which it was situated. The convent which marks the place of the Redeemer's birth was built by Helena, after removing the idolatrous structure said to have been erected by Adrian from a feeling of contempt or jealousy towards the Christians. At present it is divided among the monks of the Greek, Roman, and Armenian sects, who have assigned to them separate portions, as well for lodging as for places of worship; though, on certain days, they may all celebrate the rites of their common faith on altars which none of them have been hitherto allowed to appropriate. There are two churches, an upper and a lower, under the same roof. The former contains nothing remarkable, if we except a star inlaid in the floor, immediately under the spot in the heavens where the supernatural sign became visible to the wise men, and, like it, directly above the place of the Nativity in the church below.
This last is an excavation in the rock, elegantly fitted up and floored with marble, and to which there is a descent by a flight of steps through a long narrow passage. Here are shown a great number of tombs, and among them one in which were said to be buried all the babes of Bethlehem murdered by the barbarous Herod. From hence the pilgrim is conducted into a handsome chapel, of which the floors and walls are composed of beautiful marble, having on each side five oratories, or recesses for prayer, corresponding to the ten stalls supposed to have been in the stable wherein our blessed Saviour was born. This sacred crypt is irregular in shape, because it occupies the site of the stable and the manger. It is thirty-seven feet six inches long, eleven feet three inches broad, and nine feet in height. As it receives no light from without, it is illumined by thirty-two lamps, sent by different princes of Christendom; the other embellishments are ascribed to the munificent Helena. At the farther extremity of this small church there is an altar placed in an arcade, and hollowed out below in the form of an arch, to embrace the sacred spot where Emmanuel, having laid aside his glory, first appeared in the garb of human nature. A circle in the floor composed of marble and jasper, surrounded with silver, and having rays like those with which the sun is represented, marks the precise situation wherein that stupendous event was realized. An inscription, denoting that "here Jesus Christ was born of the Virgin Mary," meets the eye of the faithful worshipper.
Hic de Virgine Maria Jesus Christus natus est.
Adjoining the Altar of the Nativity is the Manger in which the Infant Messiah was laid. It is also formed of marble, and is raised about eighteen inches above the floor, bearing a resemblance to the humble bed which alone the furniture of a stable could supply. Before it is the Altar of the Wise Men,—a memorial of their adoration and praise at the moment when they saw the young child and Mary his mother.
This edifice, says the Vicomte de Chateaubriand, is certainly of high antiquity, and, often destroyed and as often repaired, it still retains marks of its Grecian origin. It is built in the form of a cross, the nave being adorned with forty-eight columns of the Corinthian order in four rows, which are at least two feet six inches in diameter at the base, and eighteen feet high, including the base and capital. As the roof of the nave is wanting, these pillars support nothing but a frieze of wood, which occupies the place of the architrave and of the whole entablature. The windows are large, and were formerly adorned with Mosaic paintings and passages from the Bible in Greek and Latin characters, the traces of which are still visible.
The top of the church affords a fine prospect into the surrounding country, extending to Tekoa on the south and Engedi on the east. In the latter place is the grotto where David, a native of Bethlehem, cut off the skirt of Saul's garment. There is also the convent of Elias, in which is said to-be a large stone still retaining an impression of his body. Between this point and Jerusalem Mr. Buckingham was struck with the appearance of several small detached towers of a square form built in the midst of vine-lands. These, he learned, were for the accommodation of watchmen appointed to guard the produce from thieves and wild beasts; hence explaining a passage which occurs in the Gospel according to St. Mark:—"A certain man planted a vineyard, and set an hedge about it, and digged a place for the wine-fat, and built atower, and let it out to husbandmen."[102]
It is painful to find that the same animosity which attends the claims of the several sects of Christians at Jerusalem for the possession of the Holy Sepulchre disgraces their contentions at Bethlehem for the Grotto of the Nativity. A few years ago, during the celebration of the Christmas festival, at which Mr. Bankes was present, a battle took place, in which some of the combatants were wounded, and others severely beaten; and in the preceding season the privilege of saying mass at the altar on that particular day had been fought for at the door of the sanctuary itself with drawn swords.
Dr. Clarke, whose skepticism in regard to the holy places in the capital has been already mentioned, grants that the tradition respecting the Cave of the Nativity is so well authenticated as hardly to admit of dispute. Having been always held in veneration, the oratory established there by the first Christians attracted the notice and indignation of the heathens so early as the time of Adrian, who, as is elsewhere stated, ordered it to be demolished, and the place to be set apart for the rites of Adonis. This happened in the second century, and at a period in the emperor's life when the Grotto of the Nativity was as well known in Bethlehem as the circumstance to which it owed its celebrity. In the fourth age, accordingly, we find this fact appealed to by St. Jerome as an indisputable testimony by which the cave itself had been identified. Upon this subject there does not seem to be the slightest ground for skepticism; and the evidence afforded by such a writer will be deemed sufficient for believing that the monastery erected over the spot, and where he himself resided, does at this day point out the place of our Saviour's birth.[103]
Nothing, observes a late traveller, can be more pleasing, or better calculated to excite sentiments of devotion, than this subterranean church. It is adorned with pictures of the Italian and Spanish schools, representing the mysteries peculiar to the place,—the Virgin and Child, after Raphael; the Annunciation; the Adoration of the Wise Men; the Coming of the Shepherds; and all those miracles of mingled grandeur and innocence. The usual ornaments of the manger are of blue satin, embroidered with silver. Incense is continually smoking before the cradle of the Saviour. "I have heard an organ, touched by no ordinary hand, playing during mass the sweetest and most tender tunes of the best Italian composers. These concerts charm the Christian Arab, who, leaving his camels to feed, repairs, like the shepherds of old, to Bethlehem, to adore the King of Kings in his manger. I have seen this inhabitant of the desert communicate at the altar of the Magi with a fervour, a piety, a devotion unknown among the Christians of the West." No place in the world, says Father Neret, excites more profound devotion. The continual arrival of caravans from all the Nations of Christendom—the public prayers—the prostrations—nay, even the richness of the presents sent thither by the Christian princes—altogether produce feelings in the soul which it is much easier to conceive than to describe.[104]
It may be added, that the effect of all this is heightened by an extraordinary contrast; for, on quitting the grotto where you have met with the riches, the arts, the religion of civilized nations, you find yourself in a profound solitude, amid wretched Arab huts, among half-naked savages and faithless Mussulmans. This place is nevertheless the same where so many miracles were displayed; but this sacred land dares no more express its joy, and locks within its bosom the recollections of its glory.
Bethlehem has usually shared the vicissitudes of Jerusalem, being, both from its situation and the nature of the relics which it contains, exposed to the rage or cupidity of barbarian conquerors. It fell under the power of the Saracens when led by their victorious calif; but for seven centuries it has been guarded by a succession of religious persons who, it has been said, suffer a perpetual martyrdom. In the time of Volney, they reckoned about six hundred men in this village capable of bearing arms, of whom about one hundred were Latin Christians. The necessity of uniting for their common defence against the Bedouins, and the still morn relentless agents of despotism, has in many instances prevailed over points of faith, and induced the monks to live on good terms with the Mohammedans. Mr. Buckingham assures us, that at present the town is equal to Nazareth in extent, and contains from 1000 to 1500 inhabitants, who are almost wholly Christians. Dr. Richardson gives the number at 300, an estimate, we should imagine, considerably below the actual population. The men are robust and well made, and the women are among the fairest and most handsome, that are to be seen in Palestine.
The neighbourhood of Bethlehem presents a variety of objects too important to be passed without a slight notice. The Pools of Solomon, connected, it is probable, with a scheme for supplying Jerusalem with water; are usually visited by the more enlightened class of travellers, who combine in their researches a regard to the arts as well as to the religion of Judea. These reservoirs are four, in number, being so disposed, says Maundrell, that the water of the uppermost may descend into the second, and that of the second into the third. Their figure is quadrangular; the breadth is the same in all, amounting to about ninety paces. In their length there is some difference; the first being one hundred and sixty paces long, the second two hundred and the third two hundred and twenty. They are all lined with masonry and plastered. The springs whence the pools are supplied seem to have been secured with great care, having, says the author of the Journey from Aleppo, "no avenue to them but by a little hole like to the mouth of a narrow well." Through this hole you descend directly about four yards, when you come to a chamber forty-five feet long and twenty-four broad, adjoining to which there is another apartment of the same kind, but not quite so large. Both these rooms are neatly arched, and have an air of great antiquity. The water, which rises from four separate sources, is partly conveyed by a subterranean passage into the ponds; the remainder being received into an aqueduct of brick pipes, and carried by many turnings and windings among the mountains to the walls of Jerusalem. The monks of Bethlehem are perfectly convinced that it was in allusion to this guarded treasure, so valuable in Palestine, that Solomon called his beloved spouse a "sealed fountain."
Of the aqueduct here mentioned some traces are still to be detected in the intermediate space, and denote an acquaintance with the principles of hydraulics which we could not have expected among Hebrew architects. It was constructed all along upon the surface of the ground, and framed of perforated stones let into one another, with a fillet round the cavity, so contrived as to prevent leakage, and united together with so firm a cement that they will sometimes sooner break than endure a separation. These pipes were covered with an arch, or layer of flags, strengthened by the application of a peculiarly strong mortar; the whole "being endued with such absolute firmness as if it had been designed for eternity. But the Turks have demonstrated in this instance, that nothing can be so well wrought but they are able to destroy it; fur of this strong aqueduct, which was carried formerly five or six leagues with so vast expense and labour, you see now only here and there a fragment remaining."[105]
In a valley contiguous to Bethlehem are the remains of a church and convent which were erected by the pious empress over the place where the angels appeared to the shepherds. Nothing has survived the desolation to which every edifice in Palestine has been repeatedly subjected but a small grotto wherein the heavenly communication was vouchsafed to the simple keepers of the flock.
On the way back to Jerusalem the traveller is induced to leave the more direct route, that he may visit the Convent of St. John in the Desert. This monastery is built over the dwelling where the Baptist is supposed to have first seen the light; and accordingly, under the altar, the spot on which he was brought forth is marked by a star of marble bearing this inscription:—
"Hic precursor Domini Christi natus est."Here the forerunner of the Lord Christ was born.
The church belonging to this establishment has been described as one of the best in the Holy Land, having an elegant cupola and a pavement of Mosaic, with some paintings. But the appearance, nevertheless, is poor and deserted, as if its votaries were few, and but little concerned in preserving its ancient grandeur. The account given of it by Sandys will amuse the reader by the simplicity of the narrative as well as by the deep interest the good man felt in the various scenes which passed before him:—"Having travelled about a mile and a halfe farther, we came to the cave where the baptist is said to have lived from the age of seven until such time as he went into the wilderness by Jordan, sequestered from the abode of man, and feeding on such wilde nourishment as these uninhabited places afforded. This cave is seated on the northern side of a desert mountaine,—only beholden to the locust-tree,—hewne out of the precipitating rock, so as difficultly to be ascended or descended to, entered at the east corner, and receiving light from a window in the side. At the upper end there is a bench of the selfesame, whereon, they say, he accustomed to sleeps; of which whoso breaks a piece off stands forthwith excommunicate. Over this, on a little flat stand the ruins of a monastery, on the south aide, naturally walled with the steepe of a mountain; from whence there gusheth a living spring which entereth the rock, and again bursteth forth beneathe the mouth of the cave,—a place that would make solitarinesse delightful, and stand in comparison with the turbulent pompe of cities. This overlooketh a profound valley, on the far side hemmed with aspiring mountains, whereof some are cut (or naturally so) in degrees like allies, which would be else unaccessibly fruitlesse; whose levels yet bear the stumps of decayed vines, shadowed not rarely with olives and locusts. And surely I think that all or most of those mountains have bin so husbanded, else could this little country have never sustained such a multitude of people. After we had fed of such provision as was brought us from the city by other of the fraternitie that there met us, we turned towards Jerusalem, leaving the way of Bethlehem on the right-hand, and that of Emmaus on the left. The first place of note that we met with was there where once stood the dwelling of Zachary, seated on the side of a fruitful hill, well stored with olives and vineyards. Hither came the blessed Virgin to visit her cousin Elisabeth. Here died Elisabeth, and here, in a grot, on the aide of a vault or chapell, lies buried; over which a goodly church war erected, together with a monastery, whereof now little standeth but a part of the walls, which offer to the view some fragments of painting, which show that the rest have been exquisit. Beyond and lower is Our Lady's Fountaine (so called of the inhabitants), which maintaineth a little current thorow the neighbouring valley. Near this, in the bottome and uttermost extent thereof, there standeth a temple, once sumptuous, now desolate, built by Helena, and dedicated to St. John Baptist, in the place where Zachary had another house, possest, as the rest, by the beastly Arabians, who defile it with their cattell, and employ to the basest of uses."[106]
It is a point still unsettled, whether the food of him who was sent to prepare the way consisted of fruit or of insects; the name locust being indiscriminately applied to either, and both being used by the inhabitants of Palestine. There is less doubt in regard to the opinions of the early Christians, who were unanimous in the belief that the Baptist lived on the produce of a particular tree which still abounds in the desert. Nay, the friars at the present day assert, that the very plants which yielded sustenance to the holy recluse continue to flourish in their ancient vigour; and the popish pilgrims, says Mr. Maundrell, who dare not be wiser than such blind guides, gather the fruit of them, and carry it away with much devotion.
But we must not permit the interesting associations of Bethlehem to detain us any longer in its vicinity. We proceed now towards the extremity of the Dead Sea; whence, after having visited the most remarkable scenes on its western shore,—the mouth of the Jordan and the position of Jericho,—we shall return to the capital by a different route.
After having satisfied his curiosity in church and convent, the traveller turns his face southward to Tekoa and Hebron, those remoter villages of the Holy Land. The former, which was built by Rehoboam, and is distinguished as the birthplace of Amos the prophet, presents considerable ruins, and even some remains of architecture. It appears to have stood upon a hill, which Pococke describes as being about half a mile in length and a furlong broad. On the north-eastern corner there are fragments of an old building, supposed to have been a fortress, while about half-way up the accent there are similar indications of a church now in a state of complete dilapidation. There is preserved, however, a large font of an octagon form, composed of red and white marble; as also pieces of broken pillars consisting of the same material.
Farther towards the south, various manifestations present themselves of ancient civilization, the traces of which are most distinctly marked by places of worship and numerous strongholds. The traveler just named mentions a ruined castle called Creightoun, situated on the side of a steep hill, and a church dedicated to St. Pantaleone. At a little distance there is an immense grotto, which is said on one occasion to have contained 30,000 men; and hence it is conjectured to be one of those retreats in the fastnesses of Engedi to which David fled from the pursuit of Saul. About two miles farther, in a south-eastern direction, is the Mount of Bethulia, near a village of the same name; a position which is thought to agree with that of Beth-haccerem, specified by Jeremiah as a proper place for a beacon, where the children of Benjamin were to sound the trumpet in Tekoa.[107]
There is a tradition that the knights of Jerusalem, during the Holy War, held this strong post forty years after the capital had fallen. It is a single hill, and very high; and the top of it appears like a large mount formed by art, being defended by a double line of fortifications and several towers, which in a rude state of warfare might be pronounced almost impregnable. At the foot of an eminence towards the north there are the remains of a magnificent church as well as of other buildings. On a slope a little farther west there is a cistern connected with a pond, which appears to have had an island in it, and probably some structure suited to the supply of water. These works were also encompassed with a double wall; and it is said that two aqueducts may still be perceived terminating in the basin, one from the Sealed Fountain of Solomon, and another from the hilly district which stretches between Bethlehem and Tekoa.
In reference to the tradition that the knights of Jerusalem held the garrison of Bethulia forty years, Captain Mangles remarks, that the place is too small 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 once defended by Franks, appear to have had an earlier origin, as the architecture seems to be decidedly Roman. There can be little doubt, indeed, that it is one of the works of Herod the Great; and its distance does not differ much from that of Herodium, which is described by Josephus as being about sixty furlongs from the metropolis. The delineation of the hill, too, by the same historian, corresponds with the Mount of the Franks; and when he adds that water was conveyed to it at a great expense, we cannot permit ourselves to question the identity of Herodium and the fortress of Bethulia.[108]
Hebron, Habroun, or, according to the Arabic orthography followed by the moderns, El Hhalil, is considerably removed from the usual track of pilgrims and tourists. An accident or quarrel once excited the indignation of the inhabitants against the Franks, who during a long course of time were dissuaded by the Monks at Jerusalem from extending their researches beyond Bethlehem. Sandys could only report, apparently on the information of others, that Hebron was reduced to ruins; but he adds, there is a little village seated in the field of Machpelah, "where standeth a goodly temple, erected over the burying-cave of the patriarchs by Helena, the mother of Constantine, converted now into a mosque." Without minutely analyzing the topography of this rather credulous author, we may repeat the assurance which he gives relative to the existence of the imperial monument dedicated to the memory of Abraham and his immediate descendants. M. Burckhardt, who saw it in 1807, bears testimony to the fact that the sepulchre, once a Greek church, is now appropriated to the worship of Mohammed. The ascent to it is by a large and fine staircase that leads to a long gallery, the entrance to which is by a small court. Towards the left is a portico resting upon square pillars The vestibule of the temple contains two rooms; the one being the tomb of Abraham, the other that of Sarah. In the body of the church, between two large pillars on the right, is seen a small recess, in which is the sepulchre of Isaac, and in a similar one upon the left is that of his wife. On the opposite side of the court is another vestibule, which has also two rooms, being respectively the tomb of Jacob and of his spouse. At the extremity of the portico, upon the right-hand, is a door which leads to a sort of long gallery that still serves for a mosque; and passing from thence is observed another room containing the ashes of Joseph, which are said to have been carried thither by the people of Israel. All the sepulchres of the patriarchs are covered with rich carpets of green silk, magnificently embroidered with gold; those of their wives are red, embroidered in like manner. The sultans of Constantinople furnish these carpets, which are renewed from time to time. M. Burckhardt counted nine, one over another, upon the sepulchre of Abraham. The rooms also which contain the tombs are covered with rich carpets; the entrance to them is guarded by iron gates, and wooden doors plated with silver, having halts and padlocks of the same metal. More than a hundred persons are employed in the service of this temple; affording, with the decorations and wealth lavished upon the structure, a remarkable contrast to the simple life of the venerable man to whose memory it is meant to do honour.
If the description given by Sandys in the seventeenth century was correct, we must conclude that Hebron has subsequently enjoyed a period of improvement. According to the traveller whom we have just quoted, it contains about four hundred families, of which about a fourth part are Jews. It is situated on the slope of a mountain; has a strong castle; can boast abundance of provisions, a considerable number of shops, and some neat houses. The whole of the country between Tekoa and Hebron is finer and better cultivated than in the neighbourhood of Jerusalem; while the sides of the hills, instead of being naked and dreary, are richly studded with the oak, the arbutus, the Scottish fir, and a variety of flowering-shrubs.
Beyond this point the information of Europeans ceased until about twelve years ago, when the desert which stretches between the Sepulchre of Abraham and the Dead Sea was entered by Mr. Bankes, Mr. Legh, and Captains Irby and Mangles. After a journey of three days from Hebron towards the south, the travellers were informed of extensive ruins at Abdi in the Wilderness. On turning their faces to Kerek, the object of their search, the road led in the direction of the Lake Asphaltites, through a country which, although well cultivated, was extremely uninteresting. They observed a variety of ruins, with some subterranean tombs in the neighbourhood, denoting the existence of an ancient town; when, after having advanced eight or nine miles farther, they found themselves on the borders of an extensive desert, entirely abandoned to the wandering Bedouins. Near the point at which this change of aspect begins is a place called by the natives Al-baid, where there is a fountain in the rock and a pool of greenish water.
The travellers, at some distance from this halting-place, arrived at a camp of Jellaheen Arabs, who told them that in years of scarcity they were accustomed to retire into Egypt,—a practice which seems to have been handed down from the days of the patriarchs, or dictated by the same necessity that compelled the family of Jacob to adopt a similar expedient. At the distance of eight hours from Al-baid, in a deep barren valley, are the ruins of an old Turkish fort, standing on a solitary rock to the left of the track. Farther on the cliff is excavated, at a considerable height, into loopholes; where it is probable a barrier was formerly established for levying a certain duty on goods and travellers. The place is called El Zowar, or El Ghor. From hence a gravelly ravine, studded with bushes of acacia and other shrubs, conducts to the great plain at the southern extremity of the Dead Sea; bounded at the distance of eight or nine miles by a sandy cliff at least seventy feet high, which forms a barrier to the lake when at its greatest elevation. The existence of that long valley which extends from Asphaltites to the AElanitic Gulf was first ascertained by Burckhardt; and the prolongation of it, as connected with the hollow of the Jordan, has been considered as a proof that the river at one time discharged its waters into the eastern branch of the Red Sea. The change is attributed to that great volcanic convulsion mentioned in the nineteenth chapter of Genesis, which, interrupting the course of the river, converted into a lake the fertile plain occupied by the cities of Adma, Zeboim, Sodom, and Gomorrah, and reduced all the valley southward to the condition of a sandy waste.[109]
But, having reached the shores of the Dead Sea by an unfrequented path, we have no guide to the examination of the wild country which rises on either side of it; we therefore prefer the more wonted route which leads to its northern border, near the mouth of the Jordan and the site of the ancient Jericho. Avoiding, at the same time, the track of the caravan from Jerusalem through the hilly desert which intervenes, we shall accompany the Vicomte de Chateaubriand from Bethlehem through the interesting Valley of Santa Saba.
On leaving the Church of the Nativity the traveller pursues his course eastward, through a vale where Abraham is said to have fed his flocks. This pastoral tract, however, is soon succeeded by a range of hilly ground, so extremely barren that not even a root of moss is to be seen upon it. Descending the farther side of this meager platform two lofty towers are perceived, rising from a deep valley, marking the site of the Convent of Santa Saba. Nothing can be more dreary than the situation of this religious house. It is erected in a ravine, sunk to the depth of several hundred feet, where the brook Kedron has formed a channel, which is dry the greater part of the year. The church is on a little eminence at the bottom of the dell; Whence the buildings of the monastery rise by perpendicular flights of steps and passages hewn out of the rock, and thus ascend to the ridge of the hill, where they terminate is the two square towers already mentioned. From hence you descry the sterile summits of the mountains both towards the east and west; the course of the stream from Jerusalem; and the numerous grottoes formerly occupied by Christian anchorites.
In advancing, the aspect of the country still continues the same, white and dusty, without tree, herbage, or even moss. At length the road seeks a lower level, and approaches the rocky border which bounds the Valley of the Jordan; when, after a toilsome journey of ten or twelve hours, the traveller sees stretching out before his eyes the Dead Sea and the line of the river. But the landscape, however grand, admits of no comparison to the scenery of Europe. No fields waving with corn,—no plains covered with rich pasture present themselves from the mountains of Lower Palestine. Figure to yourself two long chains of mountains, running in a parallel direction from north to south, without breaks and without undulations. The eastern or Arabian chain is the highest; and, when seen at the distance of eight or ten leagues, you would take it to be a prodigious perpendicular wall, resembling Mount Jura in its form and azure colour. Not one summit, not the smallest peak can be distinguished; you merely perceive slight inflections here and there, "as if the hand of the painter who drew this horizontal line along the sky had trembled in some places."
The mountains of Judea form the range on which the observer stands as he looks down on the Lake Asphaltites. Less lofty and more unequal than the eastern chain, it differs from the other in its nature also; exhibiting heaps of chalk and sand, whose form, it is said, bears some resemblance to piles of arms, waving standards, or the tents of a camp pitched on the border of a plain. The Arabian side, on the contrary, presents nothing but black precipitous rocks, which throw their lengthened shadow over waters of the Dead Sea. The smallest bird of heaven would not find among these crags a single blade of grass for its sustenance; every thing announces the country of a reprobate people, and well fitted to perpetuate the punishment denounced against Ammon and Moab.
The valley confined by these two chains of mountains displays a soil resembling the bottom of a sea which has long retired from its bed, a beach covered with salt, dry mud, and moving sands, furrowed, as it were, by the waves. Here and there stunted shrubs vegetate with difficulty upon this inanimate tract; their leaves are covered with salt, and their bark has a smoky smell and taste. Instead of villages you perceive the ruins of a few towers. In the middle of this valley flows a discoloured river, which reluctantly throws itself into the pestilential lake by which it is engulfed. Its course amid the sands can be distinguished only by the willows and the reeds that border it; among which the Arab lies in ambush to attack the traveller and to murder the pilgrim.[110]
M. Chateaubriand remarks, that when you travel in Judea the heart is at first filled with profound melancholy. But when, passing from solitude to solitude, boundless space opens before you, this feeling wears off by degrees, and you experience a secret awe, which, so far from depressing the soul, imparts life and elevates the genius. Extraordinary appearances everywhere proclaim a land teeming with miracles. The burning sun, the towering eagle, the barren fig-tree, all the poetry, all the pictures of Scripture are here. Every name commemorates a mystery,—every grotto announces a prediction,—every hill reechoes the accents of a prophet. God himself has spoken in these regions, dried up rivers, rent the rocks, and opened the grave. "The desert still appears mute with terror; and you would imagine that it had never presumed to interrupt the silence since it heard the awful voice of the Eternal."
The celebrated lake which occupies the site of Sodom and Gomorrah is called in Scripture the Dead Sea. Among the Greeks and Latins it is known by the name of Asphaltites; the Arabs denominate it Bahar Loth, or Sea of Lot. M. de Chateaubriand does not agree with those who conclude it to be the crater of a volcano; for, having seen Vesuvius, Solfatara, the Peak of the Azores, and the extinguished volcanoes of Auvergne, he remarked in all of them the same characters; that is to say, mountains excavated in the form of a tunnel, lava, and ashes, which exhibited incontestable proof of the agency of fire. The Salt Sea, on the contrary, is a lake of great length, curved like a bow, placed between two ranges of mountains, which have no mutual coherence of form, no similarity of composition. They do not meet at the two extremities of the lake; but while the one continues to bound the valley of Jordan, and to run northward as far as Tiberias, the other stretches away to the south till it loses itself in the sands of Yemen. There are, it is true, hot springs, quantities of bitumen, sulphur, and asphaltos; but these of themselves are not sufficient to attest the previous existence of a volcano. With respect, indeed, to the ingulfed cities, if we adopt the idea of Michaelis and of Büsching, physics may be admitted to explain the catastrophe without offence to religion. According to their views, Sodom was built upon a mine of bitumen,—a fact which is ascertained by the testimony of Moses and Josephus, who speak of wells of naphtha in the Valley of Siddim. Lightning kindled the combustible mass, and the guilty cities sank in the subterraneous conflagration. Malte Brun ingeniously suggests that Sodom and Gomorrah themselves may have been built of bituminous stones, and thus have been set in flames by the fire from heaven.
According to Strabo, there were thirteen towns swallowed up in the Lake Asphaltites; Stephen of Byzantium reckons eight; the book of Genesis, while it names five as situated in the Vale of Siddim, relates the destruction of two only: four are mentioned in Deuteronomy, and five are noticed by the author of Ecclesiasticus. Several travellers, and among others Troilo and D'Arvieux, assure us, that they observed fragments of walls and palaces in the Dead Sea. Maundrell himself was not so fortunate, owing, he supposes, to the height of the water; but he relates that the Father Guardian and Procurator of Jerusalem, both men of sense and probity, declared that they had once actually seen one of these ruins; that it was so near the shore, and the lake so shallow, that they, together with some Frenchmen, went to it, and found there several pillars and other fragments of buildings. The ancients speak more positively on this subject. Josephus, who employs a poetical expression, says, that he perceived on the shores of the Dead Sea the shades of the overwhelmed cities. Strabo gives a circumference of sixty stadia to the ruins of Sodom, which are also mentioned by Tacitus.[111]
It is surprising that no pains have been taken by recent travellers to throw light upon this interesting point, or even to learn whether the periodical rise and fall of the lake affords any means for determining the accuracy of the ancient historians and geographers. Should the Turks ever give permission, and should it be found practicable, to convey a vessel from Jaffa to this inland sea, some curious discoveries would certainly be made. Is it not amazing that, notwithstanding the enterprise of modern science, the ancients were better acquainted with the properties, and even the dimensions of the Lake Asphaltites, than the most learned nations of Europe in our own times? It is described by Aristotle, Strabo, Diodorus Siculus, Pliny, Tacitus, Solinus, Josephus, Galen, and Dioscorides. The Abbot of Santa Saba is the only person for many centuries who has made the tour of the Dead Sea. From his account we learn, through the medium of Father Nau, that at its extremity it is separated, as it were, into two parts, and that there is a way by which you may walk across it, being only mid-leg deep, at least in summer; that there the land rises, and bounds another small lake of a circular or rather an oval figure, surrounded with plains and hills of salt; and that the neighbouring country is peopled by innumerable Arabs.[112]
It is known that seven considerable streams fall into this basin, and hence it was long supposed that it must discharge its superfluous stores by subterranean channels into the Mediteranean or the Red Sea. This opinion is now everywhere relinquished, in consequence of the learned remarks on the effect of evaporation in a hot climate, published by Dr. Halley many years ago; the justness of which were admitted by Dr. Shaw, though he calculated that the Jordan alone threw into the lake every day more than six million tuns of water. It is deserving of notice, that the Arabian philosophers, if we may believe Mariti, had anticipated Halley in his conclusions in regard to the absorbent power of a dry atmosphere.[113]
The marvellous properties usually assigned to the Dead Sea by the earlier travellers have vanished upon a more rigid investigation. It is now known that bodies sink or float upon it, in proportion to their specific gravity; and that, although the water is so dense as to be favourable to swimmers, no security is found against the common accident of drowning. Josephus indeed asserts that Vespasian, in order to ascertain the fact now mentioned, commanded a number of his slaves to be bound hand and foot and thrown into the deepest part of the lake; and that, so far from any of them sinking, they all maintained their place on the surface until it pleased the emperor to have them taken out. But this anecdote, although perfectly consistent with truth, does not justify all the inferences which have been drawn from it. "Being willing to make an experiment," says Maundrell, "I went into it, and found that it bore up my body in swimming with an uncommon force; but as for that relation of some authors, that men wading into it were buoyed up to the top as soon as they got as deep as the middle, I found it, upon trial, not true."[114]
The water of this sea has been frequently analyzed both in France and England. The specific gravity of it, according to Malte Brun, is 1.211, that of fresh water being 1.000. It is perfectly transparent. The applications of tests, or reagents, prove that it contains the muriatic and sulphuric acids. There is no alumina in it, nor does it appear that it is saturated with marine salt or muriate of soda. It holds in solution the following substances, and in the proportions here stated:
Muriate of lime 3.920Magnesia 10.246Soda 10.360Sulphate of lime .054
We need not add that such a liquid must be equally salt and bitter. As might be expected, too, it is found to deposit its salts in copious incrustations, and to prove a ready agent in all processes of petrifaction. Clothes, boots, and hats, if dipped in the lake, or accidentally wetted with its water, are found, when dried, to be covered with a thick coating of these minerals. Hence, we cannot be surprised to hear that the Lake Asphaltites does not present any variety of fish. Mariti asserts that it produces none, and even that those which are carried into it by the rapidity of the Jordan perish almost immediately upon being immerged in its acrid waves. A few shell-snails constitute the sole tenants of its dreary shores, unmixed either with the helix or the muscle.
It was formerly believed that the approach to Asphaltites was fatal to birds, and that, like another lake of antiquity, it had the power of drawing them down from the wing into its poisonous waters. This dream, propagated by certain visionary travellers, is now completely discredited. Flocks of swallows may be seen skimming along its surface with the utmost impunity, while the absence of all other species is easily explained by a glance at the naked hills and barren plains, which supply no vegetable food.
The historian Josephus, who measured the Dead Sea, found that in length it extended about five hundred and eighty stadia, and in breadth one hundred and fifty,—according to our standard, somewhat more than seventy miles by nineteen. A recent traveller, to whose unpublished journal we have repeatedly alluded, remarks that the lake, when he visited it, was sunk or hollow, and that the banks had been recently under water, being still very miry and difficult to pass. The shores were covered with dry wood, some of it good timber, which they say is brought by the Jordan from the country of the Druses. "The water is pungently salt, like oxymuriate of soda. It is incredibly buoyant. G—— bathed in it, and when he lay still on his back or belly, he floated with one-fourth at least of his whole body above the water. He described the sensation as extraordinary, and more like lying on a feather-bed than floating on water. On the other hand, he found the greatest resistance in attempting to move through it: it smarted his eyes excessively. I put a piece of stick in: it required a good deal of pressure to make it sink, and when let go it bounded out again like a blown bladder. The water was clear, and of a yellowish tinge, which might be from the colour of the stones at bottom, or from the hazy atmosphere. There were green shrubs down to the water's edge in one place, and nothing to give an idea of any thing blasting in the neighbourhood of the sea; the desert character of the soil extending far beyond the possibility of being affected by its influence."[115]
The bitumen supplied by this singular basin affords the means of a comfortable livelihood to a considerable number of Arabs who frequent its shores. The Pasha of Damascus, who finds it a valuable article of commerce, purchases at a small price the fruit of their labours, or supplies them with food, clothing, and a few ornaments in return for it. In ancient times it found a ready market in Egypt, where it was used in large quantities for embalming the dead: it was also occasionally employed as a substitute for stone, and appeared in the walls of houses and even of temples.
Associated with the Dead Sea, every reader has heard of the apples of Sodom, a species of fruit which, extremely beautiful to the eye, is bitter to the taste, and full of dust. Tacitus, in the fifth book of his history, alludes to this singular fact, but, as usual, in language so brief and ambiguous, that no light can be derived from his description,atra et inania velut in cinerem vanescunt. Some travellers, unable to discover this singular production, have considered it merely as a figure of speech, depicting the deceitful nature of all vicious enjoyments. Hasselquist regards it as the production of a small plant calledSolanum melongena, a species of nightshade, which is to be found abundantly in the neighbourhood of Jericho. He admits that the apples are sometimes full of dust; but this, he maintains, appears only when the fruit is attacked by a certain insect, which converts the whole of the inside into a kind of powder, leaving the rind wholly entire, and in possession of its beautiful colour.
M. Seetzen, again, holds the novel opinion, that this mysterious apple contains a sort of cotton resembling silk; and, having no pulp or flesh in the inside, might naturally enough, when sought for as food, be denounced by the hungry Bedouin as pleasing to the eye and deceitful to the palate. Chateaubriand has fixed on a shrub different from any of the others. It grows two or three leagues from the mouth of the Jordan, and is of a thorny appearance, with small tapering leaves. Its fruit is exactly like that of the Egyptian lemon, both in size and colour. Before it is ripe it is filled with a corrosive and saline juice; when dried, it yields a blackish seed that may be compared to ashes, and which in taste resembles bitter pepper. There can be little doubt that this is the true apple of Sodom, which flatters the sight while it mocks the appetite.[116]
In ascending the western shore, the traveller at length reaches the point where the Jordan mixes its muddy waters with those of the lake. Hasselquist, the only modern author who describes the mouth of that celebrated river, tells us that the plain which extends from thence to Jericho, a distance of more than three leagues, is, generally speaking, level, but uncultivated and barren. The soil is a grayish sandy clay, so loose that the horses often sank up to the knees in it. The whole surface of the earth is covered with salt in the same manner as on the banks of the Nile, and would, it is probable, prove no less fruitful were it irrigated with equal care. The stones on the beach, it is added, were all quartz, but of various colours; some specimens of which, having a slaty structure, emitted, when exposed to fire, a strong smell of bitumen, thereby denoting, perhaps, its volcanic origin.
There is a great want of unanimity among authors in respect to the width of the Jordan. The Swede whom we have just quoted relates, that opposite to Jericho it was eight paces over, the banks perpendicular, six feet in height, the water deep, muddy, warm rather than cold, and much inferior in quality to that of the Nile. Chateaubriand, again, who measured it in several places, reports that it was about fifty feet in breadth, and six feet deep close to the shore,—a discrepancy which must arise from the period of the year when it was seen by these distinguished writers.[117]
The Old Testament abounds with allusions to the swellings of Jordan; but at present, whether the current has deepened its channel, or whether the climate is less moist than in former days, this occurrence is seldom witnessed,—the river has forgotten its ancient greatness. Maundrell could discern no sign or probability of such overflowings; for although he was there on the 30th of March,—the proper season of the inundation,—the river was running two yards at least under the level of its banks. The margin of the stream, however, continues as of old to be closely covered with a natural forest of tamarisk, willows, oleanders, and similar trees, and to afford a retreat to several species of wild beasts. Hence the fine metaphor of the prophet Jeremiah, who assimilates an enraged enemy to a lion coming up "from the swellings of Jordan," driven from his lair by the annual flood, and compelled to seek shelter in the surrounding desert.