The Book of Delight and Other Papers by Israel Abrahams

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The news spread; the relations of the wife united to avenge her death,
and kill the husband. In their turn his relatives resolved to avenge him;
both houses were embroiled, and before the feud was at an end, two
hundred and thirty lives were sacrificed. The city resounded with a great
cry, the like of which had never been heard. "From that day," concluded
Enan, "I decided to injure no man more. Yet for this very reason I fear
to wed an evil woman." "Fear not," returned Joseph, "the girl I recommend
is beautiful and good." And Enan married her, and loved her.

Thus Enan is metamorphosed from a public demon into something of a domestic
saint. Zabara gives us an inverted Faust.

JOSEPH RETURNS HOME TO BARCELONA

"After a while," concludes Joseph, "I said to him, 'I have sojourned long
enough in this city, the ways of which please me not. Ignorance prevails,
and poetry is unknown; the law is despised; the young are set over the old;
they slander and are impudent. Let me go home after my many years of
wandering in a strange land. Fain would I seek the place where dwells the
great prince, Rabbi Sheshet Benveniste, of whom Wisdom says, Thou art my
teacher, and Faith, Thou art my friend.' 'What qualitie,' asked Enan,
'brought him to this lofty place of righteousness and power?' 'His
simplicity and humility, his uprightness and saintliness.'"

And with this eulogy of the aged Rabbi of Barcelona, the poem somewhat
inconsequently ends. It may be that the author left the work without
putting in the finishing touches. This would account for the extra stories,
which, as was seen above, may belong to the book, though not incorporated
into it.

It will be thought, from the summary mode in which I have rendered these
stories, that I take Zabara to be rather a literary curiosity than a poet.
But Zabara's poetical merits are considerable. If I have refrained from
attempting a literal rendering, it is mainly because the rhymed-prose
_genre_ is so characteristically Oriental that its charm is incommunicable
in a Western language. Hence, to those who do not read Zabara in the
original, he is more easily appreciated as a _conteur_ than as an
imaginative writer. To the Hebraist, too, something of the same remark
applies. Rhymed prose is not much more consistent with the genius of Hebrew
than it is with the genius of English. Arabic and Persian seem the only
languages in which rhymed prose assumes a natural and melodious shape. In
the new-Hebrew, rhymed prose has always been an exotic, never quite a
native flower. The most skilful gardeners failed to acclimatize it
thoroughly in European soil. Yet Zabara's humor, his fluent simplicity, his
easy mastery over Hebrew, his invention, his occasional gleams of fancy,
his gift of satire, his unfailing charm, combine to give his poem some
right to the title by which he called it--"The Book of Delight."

A VISIT TO HEBRON

Of a land where every stone has its story, it can hardly be asserted that
any one place has a fuller tale to tell than another. But Hebron has a
peculiar old-world charm as the home of the founder of the Hebrew race.
Moreover, one's youthful imagination associates Hebron with the giants, the
sons of Anak, sons, that is, of the long neck; men of Arba, with broad,
square shoulders. A sight of the place itself revives this memory. Ancient
Hebron stood higher than the present city, but as things now are, though
the hills of Judea reach their greatest elevation in the neighborhood,
Hebron itself rests in a valley. Most towns in Palestine are built on
hills, but Hebron lies low. Yet the surrounding hills are thirty-two
hundred feet above the level of the Mediterranean, and five hundred feet
higher than Mount Olivet. For this reason Hebron is ideally placed for
conveying an impression of the mountainous character of Judea. In Jerusalem
you are twenty-six hundred feet above the sea, but, being high up, you
scarcely realize that you are in a mountain city. The hills about Hebron
tower loftily above you, and seem a fitting abode for the giants whom
Joshua and Caleb overthrew.

Hebron, from yet another point of view, recalls its old-world associations.
Not only is Hebron one of the oldest cities in the world still inhabited,
but it has been far less changed by Western influences than other famous
places. Hebron is almost entirely unaffected by Christian influence. In the
East, Christian influence more or less means European influence, but Hebron
is still completely Oriental. It is a pity that modern travellers no longer
follow the ancient route which passed from Egypt along the coast to Gaza,
and then struck eastwards to Hebron. By this route, the traveller would
come upon Judea in its least modernized aspect. He would find in Hebron a
city without a hotel, and unblessed by an office of the Monarch of the
East, Mr. Cook. There are no modern schools in Hebron; the only institution
of the kind, the Mildmay Mission School, had scarcely any pupils at the
time of my visit. This is but another indication of the slight effect that
European forces are producing; the most useful, so far, has been the
medical mission of the United Free Church of Scotland. But Hebron has been
little receptive of the educational and sanitary boons that are the chief
good--and it is a great good--derived from the European missions in the
East. I am almost reluctant to tell the truth, as I must, of Hebron, and
point out the pitiful plight of our brethren there, lest, perchance, some
philanthropists set about mending the evil, to the loss of the
primitiveness in which Hebron at present revels. This is the pity of it.
When you employ a modern broom to sweep away the dirt of an ancient city,
your are apt to remove something else as well as the dirt.

Besides its low situation and its primitiveness, Hebron has a third
peculiarity. Go where one may in Judea, the ancient places, even when still
inhabited, wear a ruined look. Zion itself is scarcely an exception.
Despite its fifty thousand inhabitants, Jerusalem has a decayed appearance,
for the newest buildings often look like ruins. The cause of this is that
many structures are planned on a bigger scale than can be executed, and
thus are left permanently unfinished, or like the windmill of Sir Moses are
disused from their very birth. Hebron, in this respect again, is unlike the
other cities of Judea. It had few big buildings, hence it has few big
ruins. There are some houses of two stories in which the upper part has
never been completed, but the houses are mostly of one story, with
partially flat and partially domed roofs. The domes are the result both of
necessity and design; of necessity, because of the scarcity of large beams
for rafters; of design, because the dome enables the rain to collect in a
groove, or channel, whence it sinks into a reservoir.

Hebron, then, produces a favorable impression on the whole. It is green and
living, its hills are clad with vines, with plantations of olives,
pomegranates, figs, quinces, and apricots. Nowhere in Judea, except in the
Jordan valley, is there such an abundance of water. In the neighborhood of
Hebron, there are twenty-five springs, ten large perennial wells, and
several splendid pools. Still, as when the huge cluster was borne on two
men's shoulders from Eshkol, the best vines of Palestine grow in and around
Hebron. The only large structure in the city, the mosque which surmounts
the Cave of Machpelah, is in excellent repair, especially since 1894-5,
when the Jewish lads from the _Alliance_ school of Jerusalem renewed the
iron gates within, and supplied fresh rails to the so-called sarcophagi of
the Patriarchs. The ancient masonry built round the cave by King Herod, the
stones of which exactly resemble the masonry of the Wailing Place in
Jerusalem, still stands in its massive strength.

I have said that Hebron ought to be approached from the South or West. The
modern traveller, however, reaches it from the North. You leave Jerusalem
by the Jaffa gate, called by the Mohammedans Bab el-Khalil, _i.e._ Hebron
gate. The Mohammedans call Hebron el-Khalil, City of the Friend of God, a
title applied to Abraham both in Jewish and Mohammedan tradition. Some,
indeed, derive the name Hebron from Chaber, comrade or friend; but Hebron
may mean "confederation of cities," just as its other name, Kiriath-arba,
may possibly mean Tetrapolis. The distance from Jerusalem to Hebron depends
upon the views of the traveller. You can easily get to Hebron in four hours
and a half by the new carriage road, but the distance, though less than
twenty miles, took me fourteen hours, from five in the morning till seven
at night. Most travellers turn aside to the left to see the Pools of
Solomon, and the grave of Rachel lies on the right of the highroad itself.
It is a modern building with a dome, and the most affecting thing is the
rough-hewn block of stone worn smooth by the lips of weeping women. On the
opposite side of the road is Tekoah, the birthplace of Amos; before you
reach it, five miles more to the north, you get a fine glimpse also of
Bethlehem, the White City, cleanest of Judean settlements. Travellers tell
you that the rest of the road is uninteresting. I did not find it so. For
the motive of my journey was just to see those "uninteresting" sites,
Beth-zur, where Judas Maccabeus won such a victory that he was able to
rededicate the Temple, and Beth-zacharias, through whose broad valley-roads
the Syrian elephants wound their heavy way, to drive Judas back on his
precarious base at the capital.

It is somewhat curious that this indifference to the Maccabean sites is not
restricted to Christian tourists. For, though several Jewish travellers
passed from Jerusalem to Hebron in the Middle Ages, none of them mentions
the Maccabean sites, none of them spares a tear or a cheer for Judas
Maccabeus. They were probably absorbed in the memory of the Patriarchs and
of King David, the other and older names identified with this district.
Medieval fancy, besides, was too busy with peopling Hebron with myths to
waste itself on sober facts. Hebron, according to a very old notion, was
the place where Adam and Eve lived after their expulsion from Eden; it was
from Hebron's red earth that the first man was made. The _Pirke di Rabbi
Eliezer_ relate, that when the three angels visited Abraham, and he went to
get a lamb for their meal, the animal fled into a cave. Abraham followed
it, and saw Adam and Eve lying asleep, with lamps burning by their tombs,
and a sweet savor, as of incense, emanating from the dead father and mother
of human-kind. Abraham conceived a love for the Cave, and hence desired it
for Sarah's resting-place.

I suppose that some will hold, that we are not on surer historical ground
when we come to the Biblical statement that connects Abraham with Hebron.
Before arguing whether Abraham lived in Hebron, and was buried in
Machpelah, one ought to prove that Abraham ever lived at all, to be buried
anywhere. But I shall venture to take Abraham's real existence for granted,
as I am not one of those who think that a statement must be false because
it is made in the Book of Genesis. That there was a very ancient shrine in
Hebron, that the great Tree of Mamre was the abode of a local deity, may be
conceded, but to my mind there is no more real figure in history than
Abraham. Especially when one compares the modern legends with the Biblical
story does the substantial truth of the narrative in Genesis manifest
itself. The narrative may contain elements of folk poetry, but the hero
Abraham is a genuine personality.

As I have mentioned the tree, it may be as well to add at once that
Abraham's Oak is still shown at Hebron, and one can well imagine how it was
thought that this magnificent terebinth dated from Bible times. A few years
ago it was a fresh, vigorous giant, but now it is quite decayed. The ruin
began in 1853, when a large branch was broken off by the weight of the
snow. Twelve years ago the Russian Archimandrite of Jerusalem purchased the
land on which the tree stands, and naturally he took much care of the
relic. In fact, he took too much care, for some people think that the low
wall which the Russians erected as a safeguard round the Oak, has been the
cause of the rapid decay that has since set in. Year by year the branches
have dropped off, the snow and the lightning have had their victims. It is
said that only two or three years ago one branch towards the East was still
living, but when I saw it, the trunk was bare and bark-less, full of little
worm-holes, and quite without a spark of vitality. The last remaining
fragment has since fallen, and now the site of the tree is only marked by
the row of young cypresses which have been planted in a circle round the
base of the Oak of Mamre. But who shall prophesy that, a century hence, a
tree will not have acquired sufficient size and antiquity to be foisted
upon uncritical pilgrims as the veritable tree under which Father Abraham
dwelt!

The Jewish tradition does not quite agree with the view that identified
this old tree with Mamre. According to Jewish tradition, the Tree is at the
ruins of Ramet el-Khalil, the High Place of the Friend, _i.e._ of Abraham,
about two miles nearer Jerusalem. Mr. Shaw Caldecott has propounded the
theory that this site is Samuel's Ramah, and that the vast ruins of a
stone-walled enclosure here represent the enclosure within which Samuel's
altar stood. The Talmud has it that Abraham erected a guest-house for the
entertainment of strangers near the Grove of Mamre. There were doors on
every side, so that the traveller found a welcome from whichever direction
he came. There our father made the name of God proclaimed at the mouth of
all wayfarers. How? After they had eaten and refreshed themselves, they
rose to thank him. Abraham answered, "Was the food mine? It is the bounty
of the Creator of the Universe." Then they praised, glorified, and blessed
Him who spake and the world was.

We are on the road now near Hebron, but, before entering, let us recall a
few incidents in its history. After the Patriarchal age, Hebron was noted
as the possession of Caleb. It also figures as a priestly city and as one
of the cities of refuge. David passed much of his life here, and, after
Saul's death, Hebron was the seat of David's rule over Judea. Abner was
slain here by Joab, and was buried here--they still show Abner's tomb in
the garden of a large house within the city. By the pool at Hebron were
slain the murderers of Ishbosheth, and here Absalom assumed the throne.
After his time we hear less of Hebron. Jerusalem overshadowed it in
importance, yet we have one or two mentions. Rehoboam strengthened the
town, and from a stray reference in Nehemiah, we gather that the place long
continued to be called by its older name of Kiriath Arba. For a long period
after the return from the Exile Hebron belonged to the Idumeans. It was the
scene of warfare in the Maccabean period, and also during the rebellion
against Rome. In the market-place at Hebron, Hadrian sold numbers of Jewish
slaves after the fall of Bar-Cochba, in 135 C.E. In the twelfth century
Hebron was in the hands of the Christian Crusaders. The fief of Hebron, or,
as it was called, of Saint Abraham, extended southwards to Beer-sheba. A
bishopric was founded there in 1169, but was abandoned twenty years later.

We hear of many pilgrims in the Middle Ages. The Christians used to eat
some of the red earth of Hebron, the earth from which Adam was made. On
Sunday the seventeenth of October, 1165, Maimonides was in Hebron, passing
the city on his way from Jerusalem to Cairo. Obadiah of Bertinoro, in 1488,
took Hebron on the reverse route. He went from Egypt across the desert to
Gaza, and, though he travelled all day, did not reach Hebron from Gaza till
the second morning. If the text is correct, David Reubeni was four days in
traversing the same road, a distance of about thirty-three miles. To revert
to an earlier time, Nachmanides very probably visited Hebron. Indeed, his
grave is shown to the visitor. But this report is inaccurate. He wrote to
his son, in 1267, from Jerusalem, "Now I intend to go to Hebron, to the
sepulchre of our ancestors, to prostrate myself, and there to dig my
grave." But he must have altered his mind in the last-named particular, for
his tomb is most probably in Acre.

I need not go through the list of distinguished visitors to Hebron. Suffice
it to say that in the fourteenth century there was a large and flourishing
community of Jews in the town; they were weavers and dyers of cotton stuffs
and glass-makers, and the Rabbi was often himself a shepherd in the literal
sense, teaching the Torah while at work in the fields. He must have felt
embarrassed sometimes between his devotion to his metaphorical and to his
literal flock. When I was at Moza, I was talking over some Biblical texts
with Mr. David Yellin, who was with me. The colonists endured this for a
while, but at last they broke into open complaint. One of the colonists
said to me: "It is true that the Mishnah forbids you to turn aside from the
Torah to admire a tree, but you have come all the way from Europe to admire
my trees. Leave the Torah alone for the present." I felt that he was right,
and wondered how the Shepherd Rabbis of Hebron managed in similar
circumstances.

In the century of which I am speaking, the Hebron community consisted
entirely of Sefardim, and it was not till the sixteenth century that
Ashkenazim settled there in large numbers. I have already mentioned the
visit of David Reubeni. He was in Hebron in 1523, when he entered the Cave
of Machpelah on March tenth, at noon. It is of interest to note that his
account of the Cave agrees fully with that of Conder. It is now quite
certain that he was really there in person, and his narrative was not made
up at second hand. The visit of Reubeni, as well as Sabbatai Zebi's, gave
new vogue to the place. When Sabbatai was there, a little before the year
1666, the Jews were awake and up all night, so as not to lose an instant of
the sacred intercourse with the Messiah. But the journey to Hebron was not
popular till our own days. It was too dangerous, the Hebron natives
enjoying a fine reputation for ferocity and brigandage. An anonymous Hebrew
writer writes from Jerusalem in 1495, that a few days before a Jew from
Hebron had been waylaid and robbed. But he adds: "I hear that on Passover
some Jews are coming here from Egypt and Damascus, with the intention of
also visiting Hebron. I shall go with them, if I am still alive."

In Baedeker, Hebron is still given a bad character, the Muslims of the
place being called fanatical and violent. I cannot confirm this verdict.
The children throw stones at you, but they take good care not to hit. As I
have already pointed out, Hebron is completely non-Christian, just as
Bethlehem is completely non-Mohammedan. The Crescent is very disinclined to
admit the Cross into Hebron, the abode of Abraham, a name far more honored
by Jews and Mohammedans than by Christians.

It is not quite just to call the Hebronites fanatical and sullen; they
really only desire to hold Hebron as their own. "Hebron for the Hebronites"
is their cry. The road, at all events, is quite safe. One of the surprises
of Palestine is the huge traffic along the main roads. Orientals not only
make a great bustle about what they do, but they really are very busy
people. Along the roads you meet masses of passengers, people on foot, on
mules and horses, on camels, in wheeled vehicles. You come across groups of
pilgrims, with one mule to the party, carrying the party's goods, the
children always barefooted and bareheaded--the latter fact making you
realize how the little boy in the Bible story falling sick in the field
exclaimed "My head, my head!" Besides the pilgrims, there are the bearers
of goods and produce. You see donkeys carrying large stones for building,
one stone over each saddle. If you are as lucky as I was, you may see a
runaway camel along the Hebron road, scouring alone at break-neck speed,
with laughter-producing gait.

Of Hebron itself I saw little as I entered, because I arrived towards
sunset, and only had time to notice that everyone in the streets carried a
lantern. In Jerusalem only the women carry lights, but in Hebron men had
them as well. I wondered where I was to pass the night. Three friends had
accompanied me from Jerusalem, and they told me not to worry, as we could
stay at the Jewish doctor's. It seemed to me a cool piece of impudence to
billet a party on a man whose name had been previously unknown to me, but
the result proved that they were right. The doctor welcomed us right
heartily; he said that it was a joy to entertain us. Now it was that one
saw the advantages of the Oriental architecture. The chief room in an
Eastern house is surrounded on three sides by a wide stone or wooden divan,
which, in wealthy houses, is richly upholstered. The Hebron doctor was not
rich, but there was the same divan covered with a bit of chintz. On it one
made one's bed, hard, it is true, but yet a bed. You always take your rugs
with you for covering at night, you put your portmanteau under your head as
a pillow, and there you are! You may rely upon one thing. People who, on
their return from Palestine, tell you that they had a comfortable trip,
have seen nothing of the real life of the country. To do that you must
rough it, as I did both at Modin and at Hebron. To return to the latter.
The rooms have stone floors and vaulted roofs, the children walk about with
wooden shoes, and the pitter-patter makes a pleasant music. They throw off
the shoes as they enter the room. My host had been in Hebron for six years,
and he told me overnight what I observed for myself next day, that,
considering the fearful conditions under which the children live, there is
comparatively little sickness. As for providing meals, a genuine communism
prevails. You produce your food, your host adds his store, and you partake
in common of the feast to which both sides contribute. After a good long
talk, I got to sleep easily, thinking, as I dozed off, that I should pass a
pleasant night. I had become impervious to the mosquitoes, but there was
something else which I had forgotten. Was it a dream, an awful nightmare,
or had a sudden descent of Bedouins occurred? Gradually I was awakened by a
noise as of wild beasts let loose, howls of rage and calls to battle. It
was only the dogs. In Jerusalem I had never heard them, as the Jewish hotel
was then well out of the town; it has since been moved nearer in. It is
impossible to convey a sense of the terrifying effect produced by one's
first experience of the night orgies of Oriental dogs, it curdles your
blood to recall it. Seen by daytime, the dogs are harmless enough, as they
go about their scavenger work among the heaps of refuse and filth. But by
night they are howling demons, stampeding about the streets in mad groups,
barking to and at each other, whining piteously one moment, roaring
hoarsely and snapping fiercely another.

The dogs did me one service, they made me get up early. I walked through a
bluish-gray atmosphere. Colors in Judea are bright, yet there is always an
effect as of a thin gauze veil over them. I went, then, into the streets,
and at five o'clock the sun was high, and the bustle of the place had
begun. The air was keen and fresh, and many were already abroad. I saw some
camels start for Jerusalem, laden with straw mats made in Hebron.

Next went some asses carrying poultry for the Holy City, then a family
caravan with its inevitable harem of closely veiled women. Then I saw a man
with tools for hewing stone, camels coming into Hebron, a boy with a large
petroleum can going to fetch water,--they are abandoning the use of the
olden picturesque stone pitchers,--then I saw asses loaded with vine twigs,
one with lime, women with black dresses and long white veils, boys with
bent backs carrying iron stones. I saw, too, some Bethlehemite Christians
hurrying home to the traditional site of the nativity. You can always
distinguish these, for they are the only Christians in Palestine that wear
turbans habitually. And all over the landscape dominated the beautiful
green hills, fresh with the morning dew, a dew so thick that I had what I
had not expected, a real morning bath. I was soaked quite wet by the time I
returned from my solitary stroll. I had a capital breakfast, for which we
supplied the solids, and our host the coffee. Butter is a luxury which we
neither expected nor got. Hebron, none the less, seemed to me a Paradise,
and I applauded the legend that locates Adam and Eve in this spot.

Alas! I had not yet seen Hebron. The doctor lived on the outskirts near the
highroad, where there are many fine and beautiful residences. I was soon to
enter the streets and receive a rude awakening, when I saw the manner in
which the fifteen hundred Jews of Hebron live. Hebron is a ghetto in a
garden; it is worse than even Jerusalem, Jerusalem being clean in
comparison. Dirty, dark, narrow, vaulted, unevenly paved, running with
liquid slime--such are the streets of Hebron. You are constantly in danger
of slipping, unless you wear the flat, heel-less Eastern shoes, and, if you
once fell, not all the perfumes of Araby could make you sweet again.

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