CHAPTER VIII
Bozrah—First Syrian mosque—The physician the reconciler—The “House of the Jew”—The great mosque—Cufic inscription—Boheira and Mohammed—The fortress—Bridal festivities—Feats of horsemanship—History—Origen’s visit—Capture by Moslems.
BOZRAH. BAB EL-HOWA
A Druze peasant who accompanied us part of the way from ʿIry to Bozrah professed to know the country well throughout a wide area, and declared that he could conduct us to a hundred ruins, south and east of Bozrah, as great and beautiful as Bozrah itself. This was exaggeration, of course; but that district beyond Umm el-Jamâl is still unexplored, and we regretted much that we could not accept his proffered guidance. Ere descending into the Wady Zeideh, we came in full view of Bozrah, spreading darkly under a light haze on the plain beyond, like the ruins of a great city that had passed through fire. The massive castle of Salkhad had long been visible, sitting proudly on the very crest of the giant ridge of Jebel ed-Druze, commanding a wide prospect over all the land of Bashan, and far over the inhospitable deserts eastward. The sheikh whom we met at ʿIry pressingly invited us, and fain were we to go and stand upon the most easterly border of the land held by ancient Israel. As this could not be, we satisfied ourselves for the time by gazing at the fine old fortress through the telescope. It forms a magnificent landmark. With this grand old stronghold, and the volcanic cone of Jebel el-Kuleib, just above Suweida, towering high over all, the traveller in the plains need be at no loss to discover his whereabouts. Some of the villages to the right are inhabited by Christians, between whom and their Druze neighbours there is nearly always strife.
Approaching Bozrah from the north, just outside the town, we reach a mosque called el-Mebrak—“the place of kneeling.” Here knelt the camel which bore the Korʾân before Othman ibn ʿAffan, third caliph after Mohammed, on his entering Syria. This determined the spot where the first Syrian mosque should stand. On a basaltic slab within is shown the alleged impression made by the kneeling camel. The house where Mohammed should alight in Medina when he fled from Mecca was indicated by the kneeling of his naqa, or female camel; and there was raised the first Mohammedan mosque in the world. This method of selecting particular spots by the kneeling of the camel is illustrated among other Eastern peoples; for example, among the Jews. They say that Maimonides, the great doctor of the twelfth century, gave instructions, before his death, that he should be laid to rest in the Holy Land. His body was laid on a camel, which, starting from Alexandria, marched day and night until it reached a spot outside the walls of Tiberias. There it kneeled down. With difficulty it was made to rise, but it only moved round in a narrow circle. The phenomenon roused the interest of the spectators. Inquiring, they found that the great doctor’s father was buried there; and they laid his body in his father’s grave!
Our tents were pitched under the shadow of the castle, on a threshing-floor, still green with the grass of spring. Our first visitor was a Christian, one of Bozrah’s few inhabitants, whose mouth was full of blasphemies against the Druzes. A companion had received a gunshot wound in a recent skirmish, and now they were plotting revenge. The governor’s letter secured for us a kindly welcome from the officer commanding the garrison, who invited us to drink coffee with him and go over the old castle. It was already known throughout the mountain that we should not move till Monday. Early on Saturday the Druzes began to gather from Salkhad, Kerîyeh, and other villages. A second company of fellahîn from the neighbourhood at the same time assembled at our camp. Their mutual enmities were laid aside or forgotten. Their one anxiety was to get a word of the good hakîm, who might help them in their sickness, or give such advice as might relieve relatives and friends too ill to come themselves. These groups of men, but yesterday, perhaps, engaged in loud quarrels, wounding each other in wrath, now gathered peacefully together, docile as lambs in the hands of the man whom they felt they could trust, formed a striking scene, not soon to be forgotten. Nor can one fail to see what a powerful mediator and reconciler one true representative of the Great Physician among these wild peoples might prove.
Most of the remains of interest are gathered in little space near the crossing of the two main streets, which, as in all the Roman cities we visited, cut the city at right angles. Triumphal arch, baths, tall Corinthian columns with beautiful capitals still in position, and the remains of an old temple lie closely together. Going from the crossing towards the great mosque, we pass an old doorway, all that now remains of what the Arabs call Beit el-Yehûdy—“House of the Jew.” ʿOmâr, second from Mohammed, was and is justly celebrated for the impartiality of his judgments. Tradition saith that during his reign the Moslem governor of Bozrah ruined this Jewish house and built a mosque on the site. The oppressed Jew made his way to Medina, where he found the caliph surrounded by neither pomp nor circumstance that could daunt the poorest client. Hearing his case, ʿOmâr gave him an order, written on the jawbone of an ass, which he found to his hand. Immediately on receiving this order, the governor of Bozrah directed the mosque to be pulled down and the Jew’s house rebuilt and restored to him. Such an incident should be remembered with pride by all worthy Moslems, as illustrating the purity of their early rulers. On the contrary, the Jew who sought simple justice is held as “an execration, and an astonishment, and a reproach.” The inquirer will seek long and diligently ere he find such lofty principle among the judges of Islâm to-day.
The great mosque, tradition says, was built by order of ʿOmâr. Old materials have been freely used in its construction. The court within is adorned with marble columns. These and many stones in the walls bear Greek inscriptions, often sadly mutilated—evidence enough of the antiquity of the materials; for the Arabs knew no Greek, and were often profoundly irritated because Greek prisoners, from whom they hoped to learn something of the enemy, knew no Arabic. One column, bearing in an inscription the Saviour’s name, was doubtless taken from a Christian church. For the building of this latter, in turn, it was probably brought from a heathen temple, more ancient still. The column immediately east of this bears the date 383 Bostrian era = A.D. 489. Only traces remain of the frieze and ornamentation in Cufic and Arabic characters—the adornment chiefly affected by the Moslems. The minaret commands a beautiful view of the surrounding country, but its rickety appearance deterred us from the ascent. The centre of the mosque is filled with debris. Long deserted, its silent court and ruined walls mutely illustrate the decay which ever swiftly follows the advancing shadow of Islâm.
We secured a copy of a long Cufic inscription found on a basaltic slab, by the door of a small mosque. It has been photographed by the American Exploration Society, but I have seen no translation. With the assistance of an intelligent Syrian I went carefully over it, and I think the following fairly represents the sense. It begins as usual, “In the name of God the merciful, the compassionate,” and goes on to enumerate His attributes. He is “the blessed, the opulent, the owner of the world, the just, the incomparable, the invincible, the victorious.” It tells of certain properties devoted by one “Serjenk,” or “Serjek”—for the name seems spelled both ways—“the humble servant of God,” for the benefit of those “who have set free the helpless and friendless from the prisons of infidels, of the widows and orphans of Moslems, of the poor and the sons of the highways,” under certain conditions. It concludes with the declaration that whoever infringes these conditions in the future “will do himself injustice, will prove himself an infidel, and partaker in the blood of Hassan and Husein, and an accomplice of those who do despite to the statutes of God.” Then comes the signature—“the humble servant of God, Serjenk.”
The church and dwelling-house of Boheira are shown here. Of Boheira it is said that he was a monk in this city, and was the first to hail the youthful Mohammed as a coming prophet. Of this event, Ockly has translated the following account given by one Basil: “The caravan of the Koreish came by, with which were Kadijah’s camels, which were looked after by Mohammed. He [Boheira] looked towards the caravan, in the middle of which was Mohammed; and there was a cloud upon him to keep him from the sun. Then the caravan alighted, and Mohammed leaning against an old withered tree, it immediately brought forth leaves. Boheira perceiving this, made an entertainment for the caravan, and invited them into the monastery, Mohammed staying behind with the camels. Boheira, missing him, asked if there were all of them. Yes, they said, all but a little boy they had left to look after their things and feed the camels. ‘What is his name?’ says Boheira. They told him Mohammed ibn ʿAbdullah. Boheira asked if his father and mother were not dead, and if he was not brought up by his grandfather and uncle. Being satisfied that it was so, he said: ‘O Koreish! set a great value upon him, for he is your lord, and by him will your power be great both in this world and in that to come: for he is your ornament and glory.’ They asked him how he knew that. ‘Because,’ answered Boheira, ‘as you were coming, there was never a tree nor a stone nor a clod but bowed itself and worshipped God.’ Boheira, besides, told this Basil that a great many prophets had leaned against this tree, and sat under it, but it never bore any leaves before since it was withered. ‘And I heard him say,’ says this same Basil, ‘this is the prophet concerning whom ʿIsa [Jesus] spake, Happy is he that believes him, and follows him, and gives credit to his mission.’”
That Mohammed met Boheira seems certain. But exactly what their relations were it is not easy to say. The Syrian Christians believed that he followed “the prophet,” and largely assisted him in the composition of his “messages” or “revelations.” They say he supplied the biblical information used for Mohammed’s purposes in the Korʾân. The number of Jews, however, who long ere Mohammed’s time had settled in el-Yemen suggests a more convenient source for his knowledge, such as it was, of the Torah; but for his acquaintance with Christianity he may possibly have been indebted to some renegade like Boheira. And if his (Boheira’s) understanding of the words of Jesus be illustrated in the phrase quoted above, what wonder if his religion did not greatly impress such a mind as Mohammed’s! In any case, it was in his Syrian journeys that he must have come into contact with Christianity. However bootless, it is impossible to help regretting that the master mind of the Arabian peninsula should have seen our religion only in the debased form then prevalent in these regions. Had it been ordered otherwise, the whole history of the East might have run in nobler channels.
Close by a second Roman archway stands a large ruined house, abounding in carved and sculptured stones, known as Kasr-Melek el-Asfar. At Zorʿa there is also a “palace of the yellow king.”
The fortress is built around and upon the old Roman theatre, which, contrary to expectation in such circumstances, is well preserved. There are vast underground apartments, and cisterns which would supply water for a large garrison through a siege of many months. Subterranean passages, the natives say, lead to a great distance in several directions.
Such an important place as Bozrah was bound to claim to be the birthplace of Philip; nor would it be complete without some relation to Job. Accordingly, an “ancient tradition” is forthcoming to the effect that the patriarch dwelt in the country near the city.
On Saturday afternoon we heard the sounds of music and drums proceeding from the town, and high over all the peculiarly shrill, wavering cry uttered by Eastern women in times of excitement, whether of grief or joy. The tramp of horses on the pavement, and the tread of many feet, told of the approach of a procession. Soon a company of horsemen swept into view, youthful, well mounted, armed with the long rumh, or Arab spear, accompanied by a crowd of all ages, clad in holiday attire of brilliant colours. Riding in the procession were several little boys, who seemed to have little interest in the affair, and to be, on the whole, not a little bored by it. It was a bridal procession—an occasion of special joy, since not one but four marriages were being celebrated. The enthusiasm lacking on the part of the dressed-up, solemn-looking little bridegrooms was made up for amply by the excited people who surrounded their horses, dancing, singing, shouting, and clapping their hands. A band with drums and timbrels went in front. On the wrists and ankles of the women glittered rude bracelets; heavy rings ornamented their fingers; nor was the nose-jewel entirely absent. Their heads were covered with light kerchiefs of varied hues, the corners tied under the chin, while the hair hung down in long, heavy plaits behind, often loaded with coins, which might be the dowry of the women who wore them. The men wore the kufîyeh and ʿakal—the “kerchief” and “thick hair fillet”—on their heads, with the Arab coat of goats’-hair over their under-garments. Those who were not barefooted wore the common red shoes so dear to the Arab.
The horses pranced and capered. The procession advanced with singing, clapping of hands to the music, and at times in a kind of stately dance. They headed toward a wide stretch of level ground behind our camp. Passing within the enclosure, those on foot drew themselves up along one side; the horsemen dashed forward at full gallop, and began a series of evolutions which, to Western eyes, seemed to involve every man of them in imminent danger. Not a few of the performances in which they pride themselves are obviously cruel to the animals. Riding at full speed, it is a mark of horsemanship to bring the animal to an absolute stop in an instant, throwing him back on his haunches. In starting, he must spring forward at full speed, like an arrow from the bow. If either of these movements cannot be performed, horse or rider, or both, are condemned. In driving the horses peculiar spurs are employed. The bottom of the Arab stirrup is a broad piece of light iron, the hinder part of which is sharpened. When the foot is slipped forward, this piece of iron projects behind the heel. Driven into the sides of the animal, it cuts almost like a knife. And another mark of horsemanship is that these cuts be as far back as possible. The bridle, too, is an instrument of torture. From the centre of the bit a sharp piece of iron projects inward; a ring attached to the same point drops over the under jaw; the reins are attached to iron rods, which, from the ends of the bit, extend a little way in front of the horse’s mouth, forming thus a curb of terrific power. It is with this instrument the rider can arrest his horse in a moment in mid-career. One can hardly help wishing that, for the sake of the poor animal, he had a touch of its quality himself. An exceptionally “hard-mouthed” horse may require exceptional treatment, but the universal employment of this bridle seems gratuitous cruelty.
Many of their feats, however, are very graceful, and in their performance no little skill is required. Their beautiful wheeling and curving on the level, in which horse and rider seem moulded together, remind one of nothing so much as the fine circlings of an expert skater. Good proficiency is attained when the rider can stoop from the saddle at full gallop and pick up his staff from the ground. In this and similar exercises the horseman on the medân, or racecourse, is always engaged, in intervals of play. Loud were the challenges of the men of Bozrah that festal day, and hearty the responses. Prancing forward, one would touch another with his rumh, and, turning, spur his steed and fly, hotly pursued by the man thus challenged. Then ensued a series of evolutions in which all the skill of the horsemen and all the speed of the horses were brought into play. If the pursuer could put his rumh on the shoulder of his challenger, he received the victor’s meed of applause; but should the challenger’s steed outstrip that of the pursuer, the latter swerved off, and sought to redeem his defeat by a display of skilful horsemanship; and he might count himself fortunate if he reached his place again without a second touch from his conqueror’s rumh. The play over, the procession formed again, the solemn-looking little men in the centre, as before, marched back to the city with music and dancing, and passed away from our sight. We heard, at intervals, the distant roll of the drums and the shrill cry of the women, from which we knew that the festivities were still going on.
On Sundays more than other days one was impressed with the abnormal quiet reigning over the land. Verily, the word of the Lord has been fulfilled: “And you will I scatter among the nations.... Then shall the land enjoy her sabbaths, as long as it lieth desolate, and ye be in your enemies’ land, ... even the rest which it had not in your sabbaths when ye dwelt upon it.” Temple, church, and mosque have risen in succession in her cities, have flourished awhile in splendour, then crumbled into ruin. At last the sabbath rest has fallen upon her.
The name Bozrah signifies a fortress, and must have described the city from very ancient times. It would be of the highest importance to dwellers in the cultivated lands to have here, on their border, a strong defence against the wild rovers from the deserts. So true is this, that it came to be said, “The prosperity of Bozrah is the prosperity of Haurân.”
BOZRAH
This city is probably intended by Jeremiah as included in the denunciation of wrath against Moab and all her cities, “far or near.” It is mentioned in close connection with Kerioth and Beth Gamul, which correspond as nearly as may be in name to Kerîyeh and Umm el-Jamâl—ruined cities in the neighbourhood. Bozrah appears in the Apocrypha and Josephus as Basora. Hither came the heroic Judas Maccabeus. He delivered from imprisonment many of his unfortunate brethren, and destroyed the city, burning it, as far as that was possible, with fire. But withal there were yet glorious days in store for Bozrah. The land passed under the dominion of the Romans. The transjordanic provinces were subdued by Aulus Cornelius Palma. Bozrah he made capital of the province, calling it Nova Trajana Bostra, in honour of the emperor Trajan. This was in A.D. 105, from which date was reckoned the Bostrian era. The old city took a new lease of life, and worthily assumed her place as by far the most important stronghold east of Jordan. Her streets were graced with public buildings of which the proudest city need not have been ashamed. A network of magnificent roads, which even yet are traced across the plains, leading to all the principal towns and cities in the province, found in her its centre. The merchandise of the East, by way of the road from the Persian Gulf, stocked her marts, and the gold and frankincense caravans from Arabia the Happy brought their stores to increase her wealth. The time of her greatest splendour probably fell in the short reign of Philip the Arabian, who, with the wealth of Rome at his command, guided by his Oriental pride and taste, would lavish adornment on the chief city of his native province, embellishing her streets and squares with triumphs of architectural art. Hither came the great Origen, to consult with the Bishop Beryllus, who had gone astray in matters of faith and doctrine; and he met with far greater success than the most doughty warriors for orthodoxy may ever hope for, if they regard the heretic as one only to be hunted out and prosecuted. Something might be learned from the methods of Origen, who, in brotherly and friendly converse, convinced the erring bishop, and saved him to the Church. Subsequently the city became the seat of an archbishop. It maintained its fame as a commercial and military centre down to the Mohammedan conquest. Bozrah was the first Syrian city invested by the Arabians. The intrepid and skilful soldier, Khâlid, surnamed “The sword of God,” commanded the Moslems. While planted before the fortress, the Mohammedans, in the absence of water, performed their ablutions with sand. In the first encounter with Christians outside the walls, the Moslems were entirely victorious. The former shut themselves up in the city, and mounted banners and crosses upon the walls, as if expecting divine intervention, by this means, in their favour. The governor, Romanus, counselling surrender, was deposed as a traitor, and another put in his place. Smarting under the double insult, he resolved to revenge himself by selling the city to the enemy. Through his treachery many valorous Moslem youths were introduced into the city, in the garb of ordinary citizens, and posted in various quarters. At a given signal, the Moslem war-cry, Allah Akbar, resounded over the city. The defenders were thrown into confusion, the inhabitants into consternation and despair. The gates were thrown open, and the city, with little bloodshed, passed into the hands of the Mohammedans, who retain it still. In the days of the Crusades it was still an important stronghold, practically the key to the possession of the eastern provinces. Baldwin III. cast his forces in vain against the rock-like walls. But the blight of Islâm had fallen upon it. Gradually its splendour faded; its well-stocked marts were emptied; the sound of busy footsteps on its pavements died away; earthquakes shook down its temples and destroyed its public buildings; no hand was raised to arrest its decay. And now for centuries it has lain mouldering in mournful ruins under the fierce heat of the Syrian sun, blackening in the breath of Time. But surely her season of solitude and desolation must be nearly over. When the long sabbath of the land is past, new life pulsing in all her furrows, the hills and vales resounding with the song of the husbandman, Bozrah must awake from her weary sleep, and put on once again the pleasing garments of prosperity.