by Lew Wallace
CHAPTER VI
In an aperture of the western wall of Jerusalem hang the "oakenvalves" called the Bethlehem or Joppa Gate. The area outside ofthem is one of the notable places of the city. Long before Davidcoveted Zion there was a citadel there. When at last the son ofJesse ousted the Jebusite, and began to build, the site of thecitadel became the northwest corner of the new wall, defended bya tower much more imposing than the old one. The location of thegate, however, was not disturbed, for the reasons, most likely,that the roads which met and merged in front of it could notwell be transferred to any other point, while the area outsidehad become a recognized market-place. In Solomon's day there wasgreat traffic at the locality, shared in by traders from Egyptand the rich dealers from Tyre and Sidon. Nearly three thousandyears have passed, and yet a kind of commerce clings to the spot.A pilgrim wanting a pin or a pistol, a cucumber or a camel, a houseor a horse, a loan or a lentil, a date or a dragoman, a melon ora man, a dove or a donkey, has only to inquire for the article atthe Joppa Gate. Sometimes the scene is quite animated, and thenit suggests, What a place the old market must have been in thedays of Herod the Builder! And to that period and that marketthe reader is now to be transferred.
Following the Hebrew system, the meeting of the wise men describedin the preceding chapters took place in the afternoon of thetwenty-fifth day of the third month of the year; that is say,on the twenty-fifth day of December. The year was the second ofthe 193d Olympiad, or the 747th of Rome; the sixty-seventh ofHerod the Great, and the thirty-fifth of his reign; the fourthbefore the beginning of the Christian era. The hours of the day,by Judean custom, begin with the sun, the first hour being thefirst after sunrise; so, to be precise; the market at the JoppaGate during the first hour of the day stated was in full session,and very lively. The massive valves had been wide open since dawn.Business, always aggressive, had pushed through the arched entranceinto a narrow lane and court, which, passing by the walls ofthe great tower, conducted on into the city. As Jerusalem isin the hill country, the morning air on this occasion was not alittle crisp. The rays of the sun, with their promise of warmth,lingered provokingly far up on the battlements and turrets of thegreat piles about, down from which fell the crooning of pigeonsand the whir of the flocks coming and going.
As a passing acquaintance with the people of the Holy City, strangersas well as residents, will be necessary to an understanding of someof the pages which follow, it will be well to stop at the gate andpass the scene in review. Better opportunity will not offer to getsight of the populace who will afterwhile go forward in a mood verydifferent from that which now possesses them.
The scene is at first one of utter confusion--confusion of action,sounds, colors, and things. It is especially so in the lane and court.The ground there is paved with broad unshaped flags, from which eachcry and jar and hoof-stamp arises to swell the medley that ringsand roars up between the solid impending walls. A little mixingwith the throng, however, a little familiarity with the businessgoing on, will make analysis possible.
Here stands a donkey, dozing under panniers full of lentils,beans, onions, and cucumbers, brought fresh from the gardensand terraces of Galilee. When not engaged in serving customers,the master, in a voice which only the initiated can understand,cries his stock. Nothing can be simpler than his costume--sandals,and an unbleached, undyed blanket, crossed over one shoulderand girt round the waist. Near-by, and far more imposing andgrotesque, though scarcely as patient as the donkey, kneels acamel, raw-boned, rough, and gray, with long shaggy tufts offox-colored hair under its throat, neck, and body, and a loadof boxes and baskets curiously arranged upon an enormous saddle.The owner is an Egyptian, small, lithe, and of a complexion whichhas borrowed a good deal from the dust of the roads and thesands of the desert. He wears a faded tarbooshe, a loose gown,sleeveless, unbelted, and dropping from the neck to the knee.His feet are bare. The camel, restless under the load, groans andoccasionally shows his teeth; but the man paces indifferently toand fro, holding the driving-strap, and all the time advertisinghis fruits fresh from the orchards of the Kedron--grapes, dates,figs, apples, and pomegranates.
At the corner where the lane opens out into the court, some womensit with their backs against the gray stones of the wall. Their dressis that common to the humbler classes of the country--a linenfrock extending the full length of the person, loosely gatheredat the waist, and a veil or wimple broad enough, after coveringthe head, to wrap the shoulders. Their merchandise is containedin a number of earthen jars, such as are still used in the East forbringing water from the wells, and some leathern bottles. Among thejars and bottles, rolling upon the stony floor, regardless of thecrowd and cold, often in danger but never hurt, play half a dozenhalf-naked children, their brown bodies, jetty eyes, and thickblack hair attesting the blood of Israel. Sometimes, from underthe wimples, the mothers look up, and in the vernacular modestlybespeak their trade: in the bottles "honey of grapes," in thejars "strong drink." Their entreaties are usually lost in thegeneral uproar, and they fare illy against the many competitors:brawny fellows with bare legs, dirty tunics, and long beards,going about with bottles lashed to their backs, and shouting"Honey of wine! Grapes of En-Gedi!" When a customer halts oneof them, round comes the bottle, and, upon lifting the thumbfrom the nozzle, out into the ready cup gushes the deep-redblood of the luscious berry.
Scarcely less blatant are the dealers in birds--doves, ducks, andfrequently the singing bulbul, or nightingale, most frequentlypigeons; and buyers, receiving them from the nets, seldom failto think of the perilous life of the catchers, bold climbersof the cliffs; now hanging with hand and foot to the face ofthe crag, now swinging in a basket far down the mountain fissure.
Blent with peddlers of jewelry--sharp men cloaked in scarletand blue, top-heavy under prodigious white turbans, and fullyconscious of the power there is in the lustre of a ribbon andthe incisive gleam of gold, whether in bracelet or necklace,or in rings for the finger or the nose--and with peddlers ofhousehold utensils, and with dealers in wearing-apparel, and withretailers of unguents for anointing the person, and with huckstersof all articles, fanciful as well as of need, hither and thither,tugging at halters and ropes, now screaming, now coaxing, toil thevenders of animals--donkeys, horses, calves, sheep, bleating kids,and awkward camels; animals of every kind except the outlawed swine.All these are there; not singly, as described, but many times repeated;not in one place, but everywhere in the market.
Turning from this scene in the lane and court, this glance atthe sellers and their commodities, the reader has need to giveattention, in the next place, to visitors and buyers, for whichthe best studies will be found outside the gates, where thespectacle is quite as varied and animated; indeed, it may bemore so, for there are superadded the effects of tent, booth,and sook, greater space, larger crowd, more unqualified freedom,and the glory of the Eastern sunshine.