No city assuredly presents a more striking example of the vicissitude of human affairs than the capital of the Jews. When we behold its walls levelled, its ditches filled up, and all its buildings embarrassed with ruins, we scarcely can believe we view that celebrated metropolis which formerly withstood the efforts of the most powerful empires, and for a time resisted the arms of Rome itself; though, by a whimsical change of fortune, its mouldering edifices now receive her homage and reverence. "In a word," says Volney, "we with difficulty recognize Jerusalem." Still more are we astonished at its ancient greatness, when we consider its situation, amid a rugged soil, destitute of water, and surrounded by the dry channels of torrents and steep hills. Remote from every great road, it seems not to have been calculated either for a considerable mart of commerce, or for the centre of a great consumption. It overcame, however, every obstacle, and may be adduced as a proof of what patriotism and religion may effect in the hands of a good government, or when favoured by happy circumstances from without. The same principles, in some degree modified, still preserve to this city its feeble existence. The renown of its miracles, perpetuated in the East, invites and retains a considerable number of inhabitants within its walls.[75]
As a contrast to the description of Dr. Clarke, the reader may not be displeased to peruse the notes of Sir Frederick Henniker on the same subject:—"Jerusalem is called, even by the Mohammedans, the Blessed City,—the streets of it are narrow and deserted,—the houses dirty and ragged,—the shops few and forsaken,—and throughout the whole there is not one symptom of either commerce, comfort, or happiness. Is this the city that men call the Perfection of Beauty, the Joy of the whole Earth?—The town, which appears to me not worth possession, even without the trouble of conquest, is walled entirely round, is about a mile in length and half a mile in width, so that its circumference may be estimated at three miles. In three quarters of an hour I performed the circuit. It would be difficult to conceive how it could ever have been larger than it now is; for, independent of the ravines, the four outsides of the city are marked by the brook of Siloam, by a burial-plate at either end, and by the Hill of Calvary; and the Hill of Calvary is now within the town, so that it was formerly smaller than it is at present. The best view of it is from the Mount of Olives; it commands the exact shape, and nearly every particular, namely, the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, the Armenian Convent, the Mosque of Omar, St. Stephen's Gate, the round-topped houses, and the barren vacancies of the city. The Mosque of Omar is the St. Peter's of Turkey. The building itself has a light, pagoda appearance; the garden in which it stands occupies a considerable part of the city, and contrasted with the surrounding desert is beautiful; but it is forbidden ground, and Jew or Christian entering within its precincts must, if discovered, forfeit either his religion or his life."[76]
The observation made by Sir Frederick, in regard to the difficulty and danger of entering the Mosque of Omar, has been verified on more than one occasion. But the obstacles, apparently insurmountable, were overcome by Dr. Richardson, who, in return for the successful exercise of his professional skill, was rewarded by a clandestine visit to the shrine of the Mussulman saint. It will appear, from the few details which we are about to select from his volume, that the veil of mystery does not conceal anything really worth seeing. Like Pompey in the Temple, the Christian visiter, whose presence, in like manner, profanes the holy place, feels no other surprise than is occasioned by the fact, that men have agreed to excite curiosity by prohibiting an imaginary gratification.
"On our arrival at the door, a gentle knock brought up the sacristan, who, apprized of our intention, was within waiting to receive us. He demanded, rather sternly, who we were, and was answered by my black conductor in tones no less consequential than his own. The door immediately edged up, to prevent as much as possible the light from shining out, and we squeezed ourselves in with a gentle and noiseless step, although there was no person near who could be alarmed by the loudest sound of our bare feet upon the marble floor. The door was no sooner shut than the sacristan, taking a couple of candles in his hand, showed us all over the interior of the building, pointing, in the pride of his heart, to the elegant marble walls, the beautifully-gilded ceiling, the well where the true worshippers drink and wash,—with which we also blessed our palates and moistened our beards,—the paltry reading-desk with the ancient Koran, the handsome columns, and the green stone with the wonderful nails. As soon as we had completed this circuit, pulling a key from his girdle, he unlocked the door of the railing that separates the outer from the inner part of the mosque, which, with an elevation of two or three steps, let us into the sacred recess. Here he pointed out the patches of mosaic in the floor, the round flat stone which the Prophet carried on his arm in battle, directed us to introduce our hand through the hole in the wooden box, to feel the print of the Prophet's foot, and, through the posts of the wooden rail, to feel as well as to see the marks of the angel Gabriel's fingers (into which I carefully put my own) in the sacred stone that occupies the centre of the mosque, and from which it derives the name of Sakhara or Locked-up, and over which is suspended a fine cloth of green and red satin. It was so covered with dust that, but for the information of my guide, I should not have been able to tell the composing colours. Finally, he pointed to the door that leads into the small cavern below, of which he had not the key.
"I looked up to the interior of the dome; but, there being few lamps burning, the light was not sufficient to show me any of its beauty farther than a general glance. The columns and curiosities were counted over again and again, the arches were specially examined and enumerated, to be sure that I had not missed nor forgotten any of them. Writing would have been an ungracious behaviour, calculated to excite a thousand suspicions, that next day would have gone to swell the current of the city gossip, to the prejudice both of myself and of my friend. Having examined the adytum, we once more touched the footstep of the Prophet and the finger-prints of the angel Gabriel, and descended the steps, over which the door was immediately secured."[77]
Dr. Richardson was afterward permitted to visit this splendid mosque during the day, when he found that the dimensions of the enclosure in which it stands is about fifteen hundred feet in length, and a thousand in breadth. In the sacred retirement of this charming spot, the followers of the Prophet delight to saunter, or repose, as in the elysium of their devotions; and, arrayed in the gorgeous costume of the East, add much to the interest, the beauty, and solemn stillness of the scene, from which they seem loath to retire. The Sakhara itself is a regular octagon of about sixty feet a side, and is entered by four spacious doors, each of which is adorned with a porch projecting from the line of the building and rising considerably on the wall. All the sides of it are paneled. The centre stone of one panel is square, of another it is octagonal, and thus they alternate all round; the sides of each running down the angles like a plain pilaster, and giving an appearance as if the whole were set in a frame. The marble is white, with a considerable tinge of blue; square pieces of the latter colour being introduced in different places, so as to confer upon the exterior a very pleasing effect. The upper story is faced with small tiles painted of different colours, white, yellow, green, and blue; some of them are also covered with sentences from the Koran. At this height there are seven elegant windows on each side, except where the porches interfere, and then there are only six; the general appearance of the edifice being extremely light and beautiful, more especially from the mixture of the soft colours above and the delicate tints of the marble in the main body of the structure.
The interior fully corresponds to the magnificence and beauty just described. There are twenty-four marble columns, placed parallel to the eight sides of the building, three opposite to each side, so as still to preserve the octagonal form. Eight of them are large plain pillars belonging to no particular order of architecture, and all standing opposite to the eight entering angles of the edifice, and deeply indented on the inner side; so that they furnish an acute termination to the octagonal lines within. Between every two of the square columns there are two of a round figure, well proportioned, and resting on a base. They are from eighteen to twenty feet high, with a sort of Corinthian capital. A large square plinth of marble extends from the top of the one column to the other, and above it there is constructed a number of arches all round, which support the inner end of the roof or ceiling, the outer end resting upon the walls of the building. This is composed of wood, or plaster, highly ornamented with a species of carving, and richly gilt.
But this gorgeous temple owes both its name and existence to a large irregular mass of stone, having an oblong shape, which still occupies the centre of the mosque. It is a portion of the calcareous rock on which the city is built, and which prevails in the other mountains in the neighbourhood of Jerusalem, having very much the appearance of being a part of the bed that might have been left when the foundation of the building was levelled. It rises highest towards the south-west corner, and falls abruptly at the end, where are the prints of the Prophet's foot. It is irregular on the upper surface, the same as when it was broken from the quarry. It is enclosed all round with a wooden rail about four feet high, and which in every place is nearly in contact with the stone. We have already mentioned that there is a cover or canopy of variously-coloured silk suspended over it; and nothing, we are assured can be held in higher veneration than the Hadjr-el-sakhara, the Locked-up Stone.[78]
But this fragment of limestone has more weighty pretensions to the veneration of the Moslem than the mere print of the angel Gabriel's fingers or of the Prophet's foot; for, like the Palladium of ancient Troy, it is said to have fallen from heaven on this very spot, at the time when prophecy commenced in Jerusalem. It was employed as a seat by the venerable men to whom that gift was communicated; and, as long as the spirit of vaticination continued to enlighten their minds, the slab remained steady for their accommodation. But no sooner was the power of prophecy withdrawn, and the persecuted seers compelled to flee for safety to other lands, than the stone is declared to have manifested the profoundest sympathy in their fate, and even to have resolved to accompany them in their flight. On this occasion Gabriel the archangel interposed his authority, and prevented the departure of the prophetical chair. He grasped it with his mighty hand, and nailed it to its rocky bed till the arrival of Mohammed, who, horsed on the lightning's wing, flew thither from Mecca, joined the society of seventy thousand ministering spirits, and, having offered up his devotions to the throne of God, fixed the stone immovably in this holy site, around which the Caliph Omar erected his magnificent mosque.
Within the same enclosure there is another house of prayer called El Aksa, which, though a fine building, is greatly inferior to El Sakhara. Between the two there is a beautiful fountain, which takes its name from a clump of orange-trees overshadowing its water. The mosque is composed of seven naves supported by pillars and columns, and at the head of the centre nave is a fine cupola. Two others branch off at right angles to the principal body of the edifice. Before it is a portico of seven arches in front and one in depth, supported by square pillars. Ali Bey, who in his character of Mussulman was permitted to examine the holy fane at leisure, describes the great central nave of the Aksa as about 162 feet long and 32 broad. It is supported on each side by seven arches lightly pointed, resting upon cylindrical pillars, in the form of columns, but without any architectural proportion, with foliaged capitals which do not belong to any order. The fourth pillar to the right of the entrance is octangular, and enormously thick. It is called the pillar of Sidi Omar. The walls rise 13 feet above the tops of the arches, and contain two rows of twenty-one windows each. The roof is of timber, without being vaulted. The cupola is supported by four large arches resting upon four square pillars. It is spherical, with two rows of windows, and is ornamented with arabesque paintings and gilding of exquisite beauty. Its diameter is equal to that of the central nave.