Part 6 (1/2)

The work of Bartholemeo Georgewitz, who travelled in the same century, gives a melancholy account of the miseries endured by such Christians as were carried into slavery by the Turks in those evil days. The armies of that nation were followed by slave-dealers supplied with chains, by means of which fifty or sixty were bound in a row together, leaving only two feet between to enable them to walk. The hands were manacled during the day, and at night the feet also. The sufferings inflicted upon men of rank, and those belonging to the learned professions, were almost beyond description; extending not only to the lowest labours of the field, but even to the work of oxen, being sometimes yoked like these animals in the plough. Owing to the great rivers and arms of the sea, it was extremely difficult for those who were sent into Asia to effect their escape; whence, in many cases, the horrors of captivity had no other limits than those of the natural life. No wonder that Bartholemeo recommends to every one visiting those parts to make his will, ”like one going not to the earthly, but to the heavenly Jerusalem.”

Laurence Aldersey, who set out from London in 1581, was the first Protestant who encountered the perils of a voyage to Syria. In the Levant a Turkish galley hove in sight, and caused great alarm. The master, ”being a wise fellow, began to devise how to escape the danger; but, while both he and all of us were in our dumps, G.o.d sent us a merrie gale of wind.” As they approached Candia a violent storm came on, and the mariners began to reproach the Englishman as the cause, ”and saide I was no good Christian, and wished I were in the middest of the sea, saying that they and the s.h.i.+ppe were the worse for me.” He replied, ”I think myself the worst creature in the worlde, and do you consider yourselves also.” These remonstrances were followed by a long sermon, the tenor of which was, ”that they were not all good Christians, else it were not possible for them to have such weather.” A gentleman on board informed Aldersey, that the suspicions respecting him originated in his refusal to join in the prayers to the Virgin Mary,--a charge which he parried by remarking that ”they who praied to so many goe a wrong way to worke.” The friars, resolving to bring the matter to an issue, sent round the image of Our Lady to kiss. On its approach the good Protestant endeavoured to avoid it by going another way; but the bearer ”fetched his course about,” and presented it. The proffered salutation being then positively rejected, the affair might have become serious, had not two of the more respectable monks interceded in his behalf, and enforced a more charitable procedure.

Of the people of Cyprus he remarks, that they ”be very rude, and like beasts, and no better: they eat their meat sitting upon the ground, with their legs acrosse like tailors.” On the 8th of August they arrived at Joppa, but did not till the next day receive permission to land from the great pasha, ”who sate upon a hill to see us sent away.” Aldersey had mounted before the rest, which greatly displeased his highness, who sent a servant to pull him from the saddle and beat him; ”whereupon I made a long legge, saying, Grand mercye, seignor.” This timely submission seems to have secured forgiveness; and accordingly, ”being horsed upon little a.s.ses,” they commenced their journey towards Jerusalem. Rama he describes as so ”ruinated, that he took it to be rather a heape of stones than a towne;” finding no house to receive them but such a one as they were compelled to enter by creeping on their knees. The party were exposed to the usual violence and extortion of the Arabs; ”they that should have rescued us stood still, and durst doe nothing, which was to our cost.” On reaching the holy city they knelt down and gave thanks; after which they were obliged to enter the gate on foot, no Christian at that period being allowed to appear within the walls mounted. The superior of the convent received the pilgrims courteously into his humble establishment, where Aldersey tells us, ”they were dieted of free cost, and fared reasonable well.”[70]

The beginning of the seventeenth century witnessed a higher order of travellers, who, from such a mixture of motives as might actuate either a pilgrim or an antiquary, undertook the perilous tour of the Holy Land.

Among these, one of the most distinguished was George Sandys, who commenced his peregrinations in the year 1610. He was succeeded by Doubdan, Cheron, Thevenot, Gonzales, Morison, Maundrell, and Poc.o.c.ke, all of whom have contributed many valuable materials towards a complete knowledge of the localities, government, and actual condition of modern Palestine. In our own days the number of works on these important subjects has increased greatly, presenting to the historian of the Turkish provinces in Asia a nearer and more minute view of society than could be obtained by the earlier travellers, who, instead of yielding to the characteristic bigotry of Moslem, usually opposed to it a prejudice not less determined and uncharitable. We must not hazard a catalogue of the enterprising authors to whom the European public are indebted for the information: now enjoyed by every cla.s.s of readers, in regard to the most interesting of all ancient kingdoms,--the country inhabited by Israel and Judah. In the description which we are about to give of the princ.i.p.al towns, the buildings, the antiquities, the manners, the opinions, and the religious forms which meet the observation of the intelligent tourist in the Land of Canaan, we shall select the most striking facts from writers of all nations and sects, making no distinction but such as shall be dictated by a respect for the learning, the candour, and the opportunities which are recorded in their several volumes.

Palestine is usually approached, either from the sea at the port of Jaffa (the ancient Joppa), or from Egypt, by way of the intervening desert. In both cases, the princ.i.p.al object is to obtain a safe and easy route to the capital, which, even at the present hour, cannot be reached without much danger, unless under the special protection of the native authorities. The power of Mohammed Ali, it is true, extends almost to the very walls of Gaza; and wherever his government is acknowledged no violence can be committed with impunity on European travellers. But the Syrian pashas, equally deficient in inclination and vigour, still permit the grossest extortion, and sometimes connive at the most savage atrocities. Besides, there is a cla.s.s of lawless Arabs who scour the borders of the wilderness, holding at defiance all the restrictions which a civilized people impose or respect. Sir Frederick Henniker, who followed the unwonted track which leads from Mount Sinai to the southern sh.o.r.e of the Dead Sea, narrowly escaped with his life, after having been severely wounded and repeatedly robbed by one of the most savage hordes of Bedouins.

The history of the crusades will draw our attention to Jaffa more minutely than would be suitable at the present stage of our narrative; we shall therefore proceed on the usual route to Jerusalem, collecting as we go along such notices as may prove interesting to the reader. At a short distance from this celebrated port the pilgrim enters the plain of Sharon, celebrated in Scripture for its beautiful roses. The monk Neret informs us, that in his time it was covered with tulips, the variety of whose colours formed a lovely parterre. At present, the eye of the traveller is delighted with a profusion of roses white and red, the narcissus, the white and orange lily, the carnation, and a highly-fragrant species of everlasting-flower. This plain stretches along the coast from Gaza in the south to Mount Carmel on the north, being bounded towards the east by the hills of Judea and Samaria. The whole of it is not upon the same level; it consists of four platforms separated from each other by a wall of naked stones. The soil is composed of a very fine sand, which, though mixed with ravel, appears extremely fertile; but owing to the desolating spirit of Mohammedan despotism, nothing is seen in some of the richest fields except thistles and withered gra.s.s. Here and there, indeed, are scanty plantations of cotton, with a few patches of doura, barley, and wheat. The villages, which are commonly surrounded with olive-trees and sycamores, are for the most part in ruins; exhibiting a melancholy proof that under a bad government even the bounty of Heaven ceases to be a blessing.

The path by which the billy barrier is penetrated is difficult, and in some places dangerous. But before you reach it, turning towards the east, you perceive Rama, or Ramla, the ancient Arimathea, distinguished by its charming situation, and well known as the residence of a Christian community. The convent, it is true, had been plundered five years before it was visited by Chateaubriand; and it was not without the most urgent solicitation that the friars were permitted to repair their building, as if it were a maxim among the Turks, who by their domination continue to afflict and disgrace the finest parts of Palestine, that the progress of ruin and decay should never be arrested. Volney tells us, that when he was at Ramla a commander resided there in a serai, the walls and floors of which were on the point of tumbling down. He asked one of the inferior officers why his master did not at least pay some attention to his own apartment. The reply was, ”If another shall obtain his place next year, who will repay the expense?”

In those days the aga maintained about one hundred hors.e.m.e.n and as many African soldiers, who were lodged in an old Christian church, the nave of which was converted into a stable, as also in an ancient khan, which was disputed with them by the scorpions. The adjacent country is planted with lofty olives, the greatest part of which are as large as the walnut-trees of France, though they are daily peris.h.i.+ng through age and the ravages of contending factions. When a peasant is disposed to take revenge on his enemy, he goes by night and outs his trees close to the ground, when the wound, which he carefully covers from the sight, drains off the sap like an issue. Amid these plantations are seen at every step dry wells, cisterns fallen in, and immense vaulted reservoirs, which prove that in ancient times this town must have been upwards of four miles in circ.u.mference. At present it does not contain more than a hundred miserable families. The houses are only so many huts, sometimes detached, and sometimes ranged in the form of cells round a court, enclosed by a mud wall. In winter, the inhabitants and their cattle may be said to live together; the part of the building allotted to themselves being raised only two feet above that in which they lodge their beasts. The peasants are by this means kept warm without burning wood,--a species of economy indispensable in a country absolutely dest.i.tute of fuel. As to the fire necessary for culinary purposes, they make it, as was the practice in the days of Ezekiel the prophet, of dung kneaded into cakes, which they dry in the sun, exposing them to its rays on the walls of their huts. In summer, their lodging is more airy; but all their furniture consists of a single mat and a pitcher for carrying water. The immediate neighborhood of the village is sown at the proper season with grain and watermelons; all the rest is a desert, and abandoned to the Bedouin Arabs, who feed their flocks on it. There are frequent remains of towers, dungeons, and even of castles with ramparts and ditches, in some of which are a few Barbary soldiers with nothing but a s.h.i.+rt and a musket. These ruins, however, are more commonly inhabited by owls, jackals, and scorpions.[71]

The only remarkable antiquity at Ramla is the minaret of a decayed mosque, which, by an Arabic inscription, appears to have been built by the Sultan of Egypt. From the summit, which is very lofty, the eye follows the whole chain of mountains, beginning at Nablous, and skirting the extremity of the plain till it loses itself in the south.

A ride of two hours brings the traveller to the verge of the mountains, where the road opens through a rugged ravine, and is formed in the dry channel of a torrent. A scene of marked solitude and desolation surrounds his steps as he pursues his journey in what is so simply described in the gospel as the ”hill country of Judea.” He finds himself amid a labyrinth of mountains, of a conical figure, all nearly alike, and connected with each other at their base. A naked rock presents strata or beds resembling the seats of a Roman amphitheatre, or the walls which support the vineyards in the valleys of Savoy. Every recess is filled with dwarf oaks, box, and rose-laurels. From the bottom of the ravines olive-trees rear their heads, sometimes forming continuous woods on the sides of the hills.

On reaching the most elevated summit of this chain, he looks down towards the south-west on the beautiful valley of Sharon, bounded by the Great Sea; before him opens the Vale of St. Jeremiah; and in the same direction, on the top of a rock, appears in the distance an ancient fortress called the Castle of the Maccabees. It is conjectured that the author of the Lamentations came into the world in the village which has retained his name amid these mountains; so much is certain, at least, that the melancholy of this desolate scene appears to pervade the compositions of the prophet of sorrows.

The unvarying manners of the East exhibit to the view of the stranger, at the present day, the same picture of rural innocence and simplicity which might have met the eye of the mother of the Redeemer when she came into this pastoral country to salute her cousin Elizabeth. Herds of goats, with pendent ears, sheep with large tails, and a.s.ses which remind you, by their beauty, of the onagra of Scripture, issue from the villages at the dawn of day. Arab women are seen bringing grapes to dry in the vineyards; others with their faces veiled, carrying pitchers of water on their heads, like the daughters of Midian.

From the Valley of Jeremiah the traveller towards Zion descends into that which bears the name of Turpentine, and is deeper and narrower than the other. Here are observed some vineyards, and a few patches of doura. He next arrives at the brook where the youthful David picked up the five smooth stones, with one of which he slew the gigantic Goliath. Having crossed the stream, he perceives the village of Heriet-Lefta on the bank of another dry channel, which resembles a dusty road. El Bir_ appears in the distance on the summit of a lofty hill on the way to Nablous, the Shechem of the Israelites and the Neapolis of the Herods. He now pursues his course through a desert, where wild fig-trees thinly scattered wave their embrowned leaves in the southern breeze. The ground, which had hitherto exhibited some verdure, becomes altogether bare; the sides of the mountains, expanding themselves, a.s.sume at once an appearance of greater grandeur and sterility. Presently all vegetation ceases; even the very mosses disappear. The confused amphitheatre of the mountains is tinged with a red and vivid colour. In this dreary region he keeps ascending a whole hour to gain an elevated hill which he sees before him; after which he proceeds during an equal s.p.a.ce across a naked plain strewed with loose stones. All at once, at the extremity of this plain, he perceives a line of Gothic walls flanked with square towers, and the tops of a few buildings peeping above them;--he beholds Jerusalem, once the joy of the whole earth!

”I can now account,” says M. Chateaubriand, ”for the surprise expressed by the crusaders and pilgrims at the first sight of Jerusalem, according to the reports of historians and travellers. I can affirm that whoever has, like me, had the patience to read nearly two hundred modern accounts of the Holy Land; the Rabbinical compilations, and the pa.s.sages in the ancient writers respecting Judea, still knows nothing at all about it. I paused with my eyes fixed on Jerusalem, measuring the height of its walls, reviewing at once all the recollections of history from the patriarch Abraham to G.o.dfrey of Bouillon, reflecting on the total change accomplished to the world by the mission of the Son of Man, and in vain seeking that Temple, not one stone of which is left upon another. Were I to live a thousand years, never should I forget that desert, which yet seems to be pervaded by the greatness of Jehovah and the terrors of death.”[72]

On this occasion a camp of Turkish horse, with all the accompaniments of oriental pomp, was pitched under the walls. The tents in general were covered with black lambskins, while those belonging to persons of distinction were formed of striped cloth. The horses, saddled and bridled, were fastened to stakes. There were four pieces of horse-artillery, well mounted on carriages, which appeared to be of English manufacture. These fierce soldiers are stationed near the capital, as well for the purpose of checking the savage Bedouins, who acknowledge no master, as for enforcing the tribute demanded from all strangers who enter the holy city. The recollections of the Mussulman, no less than those of the Christian, inspire a reverential feeling for the town in which David dwelt; and hence, although the European pilgrim be oppressed by the present laws of Palestine, his motives are usually respected, and even praised.

The reader who has perused with attention some of the more recent works on Palestine must have been struck with the diversity, and even the apparent contradiction, which prevail in their descriptions of Jerusalem. According to one, the magnificence of its buildings rivals the most splendid edifices of modern times, while another could perceive nothing but filth and ruins, surmounted by a gaudy mosque and a few glittering minarets. The greater number, it must be acknowledged, have drawn from their own imagination the tints in which they have been pleased to exhibit the metropolis of Judea; trusting more to the impressions conveyed by the brilliant delineations of poetry, than to a minute inspection of what they might have seen with their own eyes.

Dr. Clarke, for example, has allowed his pen to be guided by the ardent muse of Ta.s.so, rather than by the cool observation of an unbia.s.sed traveller. ”No sensation of fatigue or heat,” says he, ”could counterbalance the eagerness and zeal which animated all our party in the approach to Jerusalem; every individual pressed forward, hoping first to announce the joyful intelligence of its appearance. We pa.s.sed some insignificant ruins, either of ancient buildings or of modern villages; but had they been of more importance they would have excited little notice at the time, so earnestly bent was every mind towards the main object of interest and curiosity. At length, after about two hours had been pa.s.sed in this state of anxiety and suspense, ascending a hill towards the south--Hagiopolis! exclaimed a Greek in the van of our cavalcade; and, instantly throwing himself from his horse, was seen upon his knees, bare-headed, facing the prospect he surveyed. Suddenly the sight burst upon us all. The effect produced was that of total silence throughout the whole company. Many of our party, by an immediate impulse, took off their hats as if entering a church, without being sensible of so doing. The Greeks and Catholics shed torrents of tears; and, presently beginning to cross themselves with unfeigned devotion, asked if they might be permitted to take off the covering from their feet, and proceed, barefooted to the Holy Sepulchre. We had not been prepared for the grandeur of the spectacle which the city alone exhibited. Instead of a wretched and ruined town, by some described as the desolated remnant of Jerusalem, we beheld, as it were, a flouris.h.i.+ng and stately metropolis, presenting a magnificent a.s.semblage of domes, towers, palaces, churches, and monasteries; all of which, glittering in the sun's rays, shone with inconceivable splendour.

As we drew nearer, our whole attention was engrossed by its n.o.ble and interesting appearance.”[73]

The effect produced upon the Christian army when they obtained the first view of the holy city is beautifully described by the Italian poet, thereby supplying, it may be suspected, the model which has been so faithfully copied by the English tourist. We avail ourselves of the translation of Hoole.

”Now from the golden East the zephyrs borne, Proclaimed with balmy gales the approach of morn; And fair Aurora decked her radiant head With roses cropp'd from Eden's flowery bed; When from the sounding camp was heard afar The noise of troops preparing for the war: To this succeed the trumpet's loud alarms, And rouse, with shriller notes, the host to arms.

”With holy zeal their swelling hearts abound, And their wing'd footsteps scarcely print the ground.

When now the sun ascends the ethereal way, And strikes the dusty field with warmer ray; Behold, Jerusalem in prospect lies!

Behold, Jerusalem salutes their eyes!

At once a thousand tongues repeat the name, And hail Jerusalem with loud acclaim!

”At first, transported with the pleasing sight, Each Christian bosom glowed with full delight; But deep contrition soon their joy suppressed, And holy sorrow saddened every breast; Scarce dare their eyes the city walls survey, Where clothed in flesh their dear Redeemer lay, Whose sacred earth did once their Lord enclose, And when triumphant from the grave he rose!

”Each faltering tongue imperfect speech supplies; Each labouring bosom heaves with frequent sighs.

Each took the example as their chieftains led, With naked feet the hallowed soil they tread.

Each throws his martial ornaments aside, The crested helmets with their plumy pride; To humble thoughts their lofty hearts they bend, And down their cheeks the pious tears descend.”[74]