About twenty yards lower they show you Gethsemane, an even plot of ground not above fifty-seven yards square, lying between the foot of Mount Olivet and the brook Cedron. It is well planted with olive trees, and those of so old a growth, that they are believed to be the same that stood here in our blessed Saviour's time, in virtue of which persuasion the olives, and olive stones, and oil, which they produce, became an excellent commodity in Spain; but that these trees cannot be so ancient as is pretended is evident from what Josephus testifies[605], viz. that Titus, in his siege of Jerusalem, cut down all the trees within about one hundred furlongs of Jerusalem; and that the soldiers were forced to fetch wood so far for making their mounts when they assaulted the temple.
At the upper corner of the garden is a flat, naked ledge of rock, reputed to be the place on which the apostles, Peter, James, and John, fell asleep during the agony of our Lord; and a few paces from hence is a grotto, said to be the place in which Christ underwent that bitter part of his passion.
About eight paces from the place where the apostles slept is a small shred of ground, twelve yards long and one broad, supposed to be the very path on which the traitor Judas walked up to Christ, saying "Hail Master, and kissed him." This narrow path is separated by a wall out of the midst of the garden, as a terra damnata, a work the more remarkable as being done by the Turks, who, as well as Christians, detest the very ground on which was acted such an infamous treachery.
From hence we crossed the brook Cedron, close by the reputed sepulchre of the blessed Virgin, and, entering at St. Stephen's Gate, returned again to the convent.
April 8.—We went to see the palace of Pilate, I mean the place where they say it stood; for now an ordinary Turkish house possesses its room. It is not far from the gate of St. Stephen, and borders upon the area of the temple on the north side. From the terrace of this house you have a fair prospect of all the place where the temple stood; indeed the only good prospect that is allowed you of it; for there is no going within the borders of it without forfeiting your life, or, which is worse, your religion. A fitter place for an august building could not be found in the whole world than this area. It lies upon the top of Mount Moriah, over against Mount Olivet, the valley of Jehoshaphat lying between both mountains. It is, as far as I could compute by walking round it without, five hundred and seventy of my paces in length, and three hundred and seventy in breadth; and one may still discern marks of the great labour that it cost to cut away the hard rock, and to level such a spacious area upon so strong a mountain. In the middle of the area stands, at present, a mosque, of an octagonal figure, supposed to be built upon the same ground where anciently stood the sanctum sanctorum. It is neither eminent for its largeness nor its structure; and yet it makes a very stately figure by the sole advantage of its situation.
In this pretended house of Pilate is shown the room in which Christ was mocked with the ensigns of royalty and buffeted by the soldiers. At the coming out of the house is a descent, where was anciently the scala sancta. On the other side of the street (which was anciently part of the palace also) is the room where they say our Lord was scourged. It was once used for a stable by the son of a certain pasha of Jerusalem; but presently, for this profanation, they say there came such a mortality amongst his horses as forced him to resign the place; by which means it was redeemed from that sordid use; but, nevertheless, when we were there, it was no better than a weaver's shop. In our return from Pilate's palace we passed along the Dolorous Way, in which walk we were shown in order, first, the place where Pilate brought our Lord forth, to present to the people, with this mystic saying, "Behold the Man!" secondly, where Christ fainted thrice under the weight of his cross; thirdly, where the blessed Virgin swooned away at so tragical a spectacle; fourthly, where St. Veronica presented to him the handkerchief to wipe his bleeding brows; fifthly, where the soldiers compelled Simon the Cyrenian to bear his cross; all which places I need only to name.
April 9.—We went to take a view of that which they call the pool of Bethesda. It is one hundred and twenty paces long, and forty broad, and at least eight deep, but void of water. At its west end it discovers some old arches, now dammed up. These some will have to be the five porches in which sat that multitude of lame, halt, and blind[606]; but the mischief is, instead of five, there are but three of them. The pool is contiguous on one side to St. Stephen's Gate, on the other to the area of the temple.
From hence we went to the convent or nunnery of St. Anne. The church here is large and entire, and so are part of the lodgings; but both are desolate and neglected. In a grotto under the church is shown the place where they say the blessed Virgin was born. Near this church they show the Pharisee's house, where Mary Magdalen exhibited those admirable evidences of a penitent affection towards our Saviour, "washing his feet with her tears, and wiping them with her hair."[607] This place also has been anciently dignified with holy buildings, but they are now neglected.
This was our morning's work. In the afternoon we went to see Mount Gihon, and the pool of the same name. It lies about two furlongs without Bethlehem Gate, westward. It is a stately pool, one hundred and sixty paces long and sixty-seven broad, and lined with wall and plaster, and was, when we were there, well stored with water.
April 10.—We went to take our leaves of the holy sepulchre, this being the last time it was to be opened this festival.