DOI Page / Citation link:
https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.10357#0438
DAMASCUS.
401
again, with the exception of a few which were carried off by the workmen. One of these
arrows is in my possession, it having" been obtained at the time by the clerk of the works
employed to superintend the erection of the Anglican church at Jerusalem, which is just
opposite to the citadel (see page 102). By him it was brought to England, and given to my
father, the late Mr. W. G. Rogers. Experts pronounce the form and finish of this arrow-shaft
to be quite perfect, but as it is neither barbed nor feathered it is the more difficult to determine
its age. But thousands of such arrows must have sped from the battlements and bartizans of
the citadel; and we may well imagine that when "the Tower of David" (see page 5) "was
builded as an armoury," its loftiest chambers were stacked with arrows ready for the use of the
archers on the battlements and bartizans (see Solomon's Song iv. 4).
But we must return to the Citadel of Damascus. The north side of it is the most
picturesque, and this can best be seen from the terraced roofs of houses on the north bank of
the Barada, or from the balconies of the cafes by the river's side (see page 400). On page 385
the south-west angle of the citadel can be seen beyond the dome of the Great Mosque, and its
position can be traced in the distance on page 411.
From the north-west corner of the citadel a road leads westward almost direct to the
Tekiyeh, the hospice founded by the Turkish Sultan Selim I. in a.d. 1516 (see pages 381 and 403),
for the accommodation of the poor, and especially for pilgrims on their way to or from Mekka.
(It was in the reign of this Sultan, 1512—1520, that Armenia, Syria, Palestine, and Egypt
were incorporated with the Turkish Empire.) The hospice is pleasantly situated close to the
Merj, or meadow, and the Barada flows in front of it. When I visited it in May, 1867, by
appointment, attended only by one of the consular kawasses, I was kindly welcomed by the
Sheikh et Tekiyeh in the great cloistered court, which is surrounded by domed chambers.
These were occupied by pilgrims from all parts of Asia. All the doors were wide open, and
in one apartment I saw a poor woman fanning her little son, who was dying of fever ; in
another room a party of Kurds were sleeping, covered with sheepskins. The ogee pediments
over the doorways and grated windows of these apartments were fitted with exquisitely
designed tiles, made expressly for their places. The colours were rich dark blue, delicate
green, and turquoise blue, all outlined in black. Presently the Mannun et Tekiyeh invited
me to witness the daily distribution of soup. He led me to the north side of the court, and
into a large vaulted hall or kitchen, supported by four massive columns and piers blackened by
smoke. In the middle there were two rudely constructed open fire-places of cemented stone,
side by side, and on each one stood an enormous cauldron of simmering soup. There were no
chimneys; the smoke and steam escaped through the apertures in the great dome above. A
small stool was placed for me in the deep high recess of a grated window, whence I could watch
the crowds of poor people coming in. The greater number of them were not dwellers in the
Tekiyeh, but consisted of the poor of the neighbouring districts. Some were literally clothed
in rags, others almost naked, while a few were wrapped in sheets or blankets, or clothed with
sheepskins. They ranged themselves against the blackened walls, and stood expectant, with
52
401
again, with the exception of a few which were carried off by the workmen. One of these
arrows is in my possession, it having" been obtained at the time by the clerk of the works
employed to superintend the erection of the Anglican church at Jerusalem, which is just
opposite to the citadel (see page 102). By him it was brought to England, and given to my
father, the late Mr. W. G. Rogers. Experts pronounce the form and finish of this arrow-shaft
to be quite perfect, but as it is neither barbed nor feathered it is the more difficult to determine
its age. But thousands of such arrows must have sped from the battlements and bartizans of
the citadel; and we may well imagine that when "the Tower of David" (see page 5) "was
builded as an armoury," its loftiest chambers were stacked with arrows ready for the use of the
archers on the battlements and bartizans (see Solomon's Song iv. 4).
But we must return to the Citadel of Damascus. The north side of it is the most
picturesque, and this can best be seen from the terraced roofs of houses on the north bank of
the Barada, or from the balconies of the cafes by the river's side (see page 400). On page 385
the south-west angle of the citadel can be seen beyond the dome of the Great Mosque, and its
position can be traced in the distance on page 411.
From the north-west corner of the citadel a road leads westward almost direct to the
Tekiyeh, the hospice founded by the Turkish Sultan Selim I. in a.d. 1516 (see pages 381 and 403),
for the accommodation of the poor, and especially for pilgrims on their way to or from Mekka.
(It was in the reign of this Sultan, 1512—1520, that Armenia, Syria, Palestine, and Egypt
were incorporated with the Turkish Empire.) The hospice is pleasantly situated close to the
Merj, or meadow, and the Barada flows in front of it. When I visited it in May, 1867, by
appointment, attended only by one of the consular kawasses, I was kindly welcomed by the
Sheikh et Tekiyeh in the great cloistered court, which is surrounded by domed chambers.
These were occupied by pilgrims from all parts of Asia. All the doors were wide open, and
in one apartment I saw a poor woman fanning her little son, who was dying of fever ; in
another room a party of Kurds were sleeping, covered with sheepskins. The ogee pediments
over the doorways and grated windows of these apartments were fitted with exquisitely
designed tiles, made expressly for their places. The colours were rich dark blue, delicate
green, and turquoise blue, all outlined in black. Presently the Mannun et Tekiyeh invited
me to witness the daily distribution of soup. He led me to the north side of the court, and
into a large vaulted hall or kitchen, supported by four massive columns and piers blackened by
smoke. In the middle there were two rudely constructed open fire-places of cemented stone,
side by side, and on each one stood an enormous cauldron of simmering soup. There were no
chimneys; the smoke and steam escaped through the apertures in the great dome above. A
small stool was placed for me in the deep high recess of a grated window, whence I could watch
the crowds of poor people coming in. The greater number of them were not dwellers in the
Tekiyeh, but consisted of the poor of the neighbouring districts. Some were literally clothed
in rags, others almost naked, while a few were wrapped in sheets or blankets, or clothed with
sheepskins. They ranged themselves against the blackened walls, and stood expectant, with
52