Travel
Diary of Mrs. R.P. Eaton:
Europe,
Egypt, and Palestine, ca. 1857
How deeply interesting to “walk about Zion”— how beautiful the scenery by the way— if we could see the city as it was in its glory, the hills and the valleys in their verdure and bloom; if we could “tell the towers, and mark the bulwarks, and consider the palaces,” that were long ago destroyed! The visitor is reminded of the prophet’s lamentation: “How doth the city sit solitary that was full of people? How is she become as a widow! She that was great among the nations, and princess among the princes, how is she become tributary!” O chosen city— how art thou fallen! And what glorious, what sad memories are thine!
“Jerusalem, Jerusalem,
Thy cross thou bearest now!
An iron yoke is on thy neck,
And blood is on thy brow;
Thy golden crown, the crown of truth,
Thou didst reject as dross,
And now thy cross is laid on thee—
The Crescent is thy cross.”
Proceeding eastward down the hill, we enter the Valley of Jehoshaphat,
amidst a cluster of olive trees, and turning south cross the bed of the
Piedron. Just over the bridge, on the left, is the Tomb of the Virgin
Mary. It is a church also, and I was surprised to find it so ample, and
so brilliantly adorned. It is mostly underground, and the main room, gleaming
with lighted silver lamps and splendid alters, is reached by a desent
of sixty steps. About half way down on the right, are shown in a niche
or little chapel, the tombs of Joachim and Anna, parents