“Black as the wings
Which some spirit of ill o’er a sepulchre flings,”—
[P.173] except where the moonbeams streaked it like jets of silver
falling upon the darkest marble. It formed the point of rest for the
eye; the little pagoda-like buildings and domes around it, with all
their gilding and fretwork, vanished. One object, unique in appearance,
stood in view—the temple of the one Allah, the God of Abraham, of
Ishmael, and of their posterity. Sublime it was, and expressing by all
the eloquence of fancy the grandeur of the One Idea which vitalised
Al-Islam, and the strength and steadfastness of its votaries.
The oval pavement round the Ka’abah was crowded with men, women, and
children, mostly divided into parties, which followed a Mutawwif; some
walking staidly, and others running, whilst many stood in groups to
prayer. What a scene of contrasts! Here stalked the Badawi woman, in
her long black robe like a nun’s serge, and poppy-coloured face-veil,
pierced to show two fiercely flashing orbs. There an Indian woman, with
her semi-Tartar features, nakedly hideous, and her thin legs, encased
in wrinkled tights, hurried round the fane. Every now and then a
corpse, borne upon its wooden shell, circuited the shrine by means of
four bearers, whom other Moslems, as is the custom, occasionally
relieved. A few fair-skinned Turks lounged about, looking cold and
repulsive, as their wont is. In one place a fast Calcutta Khitmugar
stood, with turband awry and arms akimbo, contemplating the view
jauntily, as those “gentlemen’s gentlemen” will do. In another, some poor
wretch, with arms thrown on high, so that every part of his person
might touch the Ka’abah, was clinging to the curtain and sobbing as
though his heart would break.
From this spectacle my eyes turned towards Abu Kubays. The city extends
in that direction half-way up the grim hill: the site might be
compared, at a humble distance, to Bath. Some writers liken it to
Florence; but conceive a Florence without beauty! To the South
[p.174] lay Jabal Jiyad the Greater,[FN#16] also partly built over and
crowned with a fort, which at a distance looks less useful than
romantic[FN#17]: a flood of pale light was sparkling upon its stony
surface. Below, the minarets became pillars of silver, and the
cloisters, dimly streaked by oil lamps, bounded the views of the temple
with horizontal lines of shade.
Before nightfall the boy Mohammed rose to feed the Mosque pigeons, for
whom he had brought a pocketful of barley. He went to the place where
these birds flock—the line of pavement leading from the isolated arch to
the Eastern cloisters. During the day women and children are to be seen
sitting here, with small piles of grain upon little plaited trays of
basket-work. For each they demand a copper piece; and religious
pilgrims consider it their duty to provide the reverend blue-rocks with
a plentiful meal.
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