Hungry journey, we found the Kunafah delicious.
After the meal we procured cots from a neighbouring coffee-house, and
we lay down, weary, and anxious to snatch an hour or two of repose. At
dawn we were expected to perform our Tawaf al-Kudum, or “Circumambulation
of Arrival,” at the Harim.
Scarcely had the first smile of morning beamed upon the rugged head of
the eastern hill, Abu Kubays,[FN#4] when we arose, bathed, and
proceeded in our pilgrim-garb to the Sanctuary. We entered by the Bab
al-Ziyadah, or principal northern door, descended two long flights of
steps, traversed the cloister, and stood in sight of the Bayt Allah.
There at last it lay, the bourn of my long and weary Pilgrimage,
realising the plans and hopes of many and many a year. The mirage
medium of Fancy invested the
[p.161] huge catafalque and its gloomy pall with peculiar charms. There
were no giant fragments of hoar antiquity as in Egypt, no remains of
graceful and harmonious beauty as in Greece and Italy, no barbarous
gorgeousness as in the buildings of India; yet the view was strange,
unique—and how few have looked upon the celebrated shrine! I may truly
say that, of all the worshippers who clung weeping to the curtain, or
who pressed their beating hearts to the stone, none felt for the moment
a deeper emotion than did the Haji from the far-north. It was as if the
poetical legends of the Arab spoke truth, and that the waving wings of
angels, not the sweet breeze of morning, were agitating and swelling
the black covering of the shrine. But, to confess humbling truth,
theirs was the high feeling of religious enthusiasm, mine was the
ecstasy of gratified pride.
Few Moslems contemplate for the first time the Ka’abah, without fear and
awe: there is a popular jest against new comers, that they generally
inquire the direction of prayer. This being the Kiblah, or fronting
place, Moslems pray all around it; a circumstance which of course
cannot take place in any spot of Al-Islam but the Harim. The boy
Mohammed, therefore, left me for a few minutes to myself; but presently
he warned me that it was time to begin. Advancing, we entered through
the Bab Benu Shaybah, the “Gate of the Sons of the Shaybah[FN#5]” (old
woman). There we raised our
[p.162] hands, repeated the Labbayk, the Takbir, and the Tahlil; after
which we uttered certain supplications, and drew our hands down our
faces. Then we proceeded to the Shafe’is’ place of worship—the open pavement
between the Makam Ibrahim and the well Zemzem—where we performed the
usual two-bow prayer in honour of the Mosque. This was followed by a
cup of holy water and a present to the Sakkas, or carriers, who for the
consideration distributed, in my name, a large earthen vaseful to poor
pilgrims.
The word Zemzem has a doubtful origin. Some derive it from the Zam Zam,
or murmuring of its waters, others from Zam! Zam! (fill! fill! i.e. the
bottle), Hagar’s impatient exclamation when she saw the stream. Sale
translates it stay! stay! and says that Hagar called out in the
Egyptian language, to prevent her son wandering. The Hukama, or
Rationalists of Al-Islam, who invariably connect their faith with the
worship of Venus, especially, and the heavenly bodies generally, derive
Zemzem from the Persian, and make it signify the “great luminary.” Hence
they say the Zemzem, as well as the Ka’abah, denoting the Cuthite or
Ammonian worship of sun and fire, deserves man’s reverence. So the
Persian poet Khakani addresses these two buildings:—
“O Ka’abah, thou traveller of the heavens!”
“O Venus, thou fire of the world!”
Thus Wahid Mohammed, founder of the Wahidiyah sect, identifies the
Kiblah and the sun; wherefore he says the door fronts the East. By the
names Yaman (“right-hand”), Sham (“left-hand”), Kubul, or the East wind
(“fronting”), and Dubur, or the West wind (“from the back”), it is evident that
worshippers fronted the rising sun. According to the Hukama, the
original Black Stone represents Venus, “which in the border of the
heavens is a star of the planets,” and symbolical of the
[p.163] generative power of nature, “by whose passive energy the universe
was warmed into life and motion.” The Hindus accuse the Moslems of
adoring the Bayt Ullah.
“O Moslem, if thou worship the Ka’abah,
Why reproach the worshippers of idols?”
says Rai Manshar. And Musaylimah, who in his attempt to found a fresh
faith, gained but the historic epithet of “Liar,” allowed his followers to
turn their faces in any direction, mentally ejaculating, “I address
myself to thee, who hast neither side nor figure;” a doctrine which might
be sensible in the abstract, but certainly not material enough and
pride-flattering to win him many converts in Arabia.
The produce of Zemzem is held in great esteem. It is used for drinking
and religious ablution, but for no baser purposes; and the Meccans
advise pilgrims always to break their fast with it. It is apt to cause
diarrhoea and boils, and I never saw a stranger drink it without a wry
face. Sale is decidedly correct in his assertion: the flavour is a
salt-bitter, much resembling an infusion of a teaspoonful of Epsom
salts in a large tumbler of tepid water. Moreover, it is exceedingly
“heavy” to the digestion. For this reason Turks and other strangers prefer
rain-water, collected in cisterns and sold for five farthings a
gugglet. It was a favourite amusement with me to watch them whilst they
drank the holy water, and to taunt their scant and irreverent potations.
The strictures of the Calcutta Review (No.
