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THE
GIANT CITIES OF BASHAN;
AND
SYRIA'S HOLY PLACES.
· OLARA
By the
REV. DORTER, A.M.,
7.
Author of "Five Years in Damascus," "Murray's Hand-Book for Syria and
The Pentateuch and the Gospels," &c.
<<
Palestine,"
NEW-YORK:
T. NELSON AND SONS, 137 GRAND STREET.
1866.
John A. Gray & Green's,
Patent Steam
Composing and Distributing Machine,
New-York.
¿
C
TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE
Lord Dufferin and Claueboye, K.P.,
&C. &C.
pag
TIT
Y LORD-I dedicate this little volume to you
in grateful acknowledgement of that personal
friendship with which you have honoured me,
and as a humble testimony, from one who feels a deep
interest in Syria's welfare, to those noble exertions which
your Lordship made to heal the divisions and promote
the prosperity of that unhappy land. I have good reason
to know that the wise counsels you gave and the enlight-
ened policy you advocated, while British Commissioner in
Syria, secured the esteem and confidence of all parties;
and I feel assured that, had the policy which you inaugu-
rated with such success in the Lebanon been extended in
the manner you proposed to the whole of Syria, the dawn
of a bright future would ere this have begun to illumine
its blood-stained plains and mountains.
I have not, said much in these pages of that war between
ii
DEDICATION.
rival sects which recently desolated some of the fairest
provinces of Lebanon, nor of those massacres which must
leave the brand of everlasting infamy alike on those who
planned, fostered, and perpetrated them.
I should per-
haps have said more had I not expected that they would
have found an abler historian in " our mutual friend" Mr.
Cyril Graham. In the absence of fuller details, I am hap-
py to be able to insert in an Appendix one or two deeply
interesting papers from the Rev. Smylie Robson, who, as
you know, passed through the fearful three days' carnage in
Damascus.
I confess that I feel considerable hesitation in placing
these sketches of Bible lands and Bible story before one
in every way so competent as your Lordship to detect
their many imperfections. You will perceive that they
are fragmentary. I do not attempt a description of all
Palestine, or of all Syria. I omit many of the most noted
places, and some of the most celebrated shrines. I do
so, not because I think their mines of interest and in-
struction have been exhausted; far from it-I believe
there is still much, very much, to be done for the illustra-
tion of the history and language of the Bible by the
thoughtful and observant traveller. Bible stories are
grafted upon local scenes; and, as is always the case in
real history, these scenes have moulded and regulated, to
a greater or less extent, the course of events; consequent-
ly, the more full and graphic the descriptions of the scenes,
the more vivid and life-like will the stories become. The
imagery of Scripture, too, is eminently Eastern: it is a
reflection of the country. The parables, metaphors, and
illustrations of the sacred writers were borrowed from the
DEDICATION.
iii
objects that met their eyes, and with which the first
readers were familiar. Until we become equally familiar
with those objects, much of the force and beauty of God's
Word must be lost. The topography of Palestine can
never be detailed with too great minuteness; its scenery
and natural products can never be studied with too much
care. Bible metaphors and parables take the vividness.
of their own sunny clime when viewed among the hills
of Palestine; and Bible history appears as if acted anew
when read upon its old stage.
I have not avoided those more familiar localities, then,
because previous writers have exhausted them, but simply
because I have been anxious to lead my readers to other
and less familiar scenes. I had opportunities, during my
long residence in the East, of visiting regions seldom-
some of them never before-trodden by European tra-
vellers. As I could not undertake a survey of all the
Bible lands over which I wandered, I have thought it best
to confine myself in this volume to those which appear to
furnish information in some measure fresh and new. I
have passed by Bethlehem and Nazareth, Hebron and
Jericho, Tiberias and Shechem, that I might linger in
Philistia and Sharon, Lebanon and Palmyra, Hamath
and Bashan.
You will also observe, my Lord, that the book is not a
simple diary of travel; nor is it a disquisition upon history
or geography. I have in most cases attempted to group
together in a popular way the incidents and results of
two, three, and occasionally many visits to the same
region, filling in the events of sacred history, and showing
the customs of primitive life, as illustrated by what passed
4
iv
DEDICATION.
#
before me. My aim has been to give, as far as possible,
a complete picture, and to enable my readers to see the
distant past more clearly through the medium of the
present.
During all my journeys the BIBLE was my constant
companion. I read its prophecies, as well as its history,
amid the scenes to which they refer. I could not shut
my eyes to the graphic details of the Record, nor to the
ruin and desolations of the land; and I could not resist
the conclusions which a careful comparison forced upon
me. I do not wish, my Lord, to make you in any way
responsible for these conclusions, or for the views I have
ventured to express. Free thought and free inquiry, con-
ducted honestly, and in the case of the Bible reverentially,
is the right of every man. This, while fully granting it
to others, I claim for myself. I have in all cases attempted
to exhibit two pictures,-one of the country, as seen by
myself; another as sketched by the Hebrew prophets.
My readers, if not satisfied with my conclusions, can
draw their own.
One thing, however, all Eastern travellers must admit
-the perfect harmony between the Bible and the land
in which it was written. I have heard your Lordship
bear noble and eloquent testimony to the fact. Even
M. Renan, with all his prejudices, saw it, and has ex-
pressed it in language of equal truth and beauty: "Toute
cette histoire qui, à distance, semble flotter dans les
nuages d'un monde sans réalité, prit ainsi un corps,
une solidité qui m'étonnèrent. L'accord frappant des
textes et des lieux, la merveilleuse harmonie de l'idéal
évangélique avec le paysage qui lui servit de cadre furent
DEDICATION.
pour moi comme une révélation." These are remarkable
words, which the Biblical student must fully appreciate.
Permit me, in conclusion, to thank your Lordship for
this opportunity of paying my hearty, though humble
tribute to your high talents and distinguished services,
and to subscribe myself,
MY LORD,
Yours faithfully and respectfully,
BRANDON TOWERS, BELFAST.
January 1865.
V
J. L. PORTER.
960
140
20
BASHAN AND ITS GIANT CITIES
THE JORDAN AND THE DEAD SEA
JERUSALEM AND ITS ENVIRONS-
I. Jerusalem
II. The Tombs of the Holy City
III. Olivet and Bethany
IV. The Battle-fields of Gibeon, Ai, and Michmash
CONTENTS.
THE LAND OF THE PHILISTINES
INDEX
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NORTHERN BORDER LAND-
I. Lebanon
II. Hamath and the Northern Border of Israel
III. Palmyra
IV. Damascus
·
··
Galilee and THE SEA-Coast—
I. Sharon and Carmel
II. Mount Tabor and the Valley of Jezreel
III. The Shrines of Naphtali and Cities of Phoenicia
APPENDIX
Texts of Scripture Illustrated or EXPLAINED
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BASHAN AND ITS GIANT CITIES.
•
Live
Bashan and its Giant Cities.
I.
"All Bashan, unto Salchah and Edrei, cities of the kingdom of Og in Bashan. For only
Og king of Bashan remained of the remnant of the giants; behold, his bedstead
was a bedstead of iron; is it not in Rabbath of the children of Ammon? nine cubits
the length thereof, and four cubits the breadth of it, after the cubit of a man. . . . .
And the rest of Gilead, and all Bashan, the kingdom of Og, gave I unto the half tribe of
Manasseh; all the region of Argob, with all Bashan, which was called the land of
giants."-DEUT. iii. 10-13.
HISTORICAL NOTICES.
B
ASHAN is the land of sacred romance. From the
remotest historic period down to our own day
there has ever been something of mystery and
of strange wild interest connected with that old
kingdom. In the memorable raid of the Arab chiefs of Me-
sopotamia into Eastern and Central Palestine, we read that
the "Rephaim in Ashteroth-Karnaim" bore the first brunt of
the onset. The Rephaim,—that is, "the giants," for such is
the meaning of the name,-men of stature, beside whom the
Jewish spies said long afterwards that they were as grass.
hoppers (Num. xiii. 33). These were the aboriginal inhabi-
tants of Bashan, and probably of the greater part of Ca-
Most of them died out, or were exterminated at a
very early period; but a few remarkable specimens of the
race-such as Goliath, and Sippai, and Lahmi (1 Chron
naan.
12
BASIAN AND ITS GIANT CITIES.
xx.)-were the terror of the Israelites, and the champions of
their foes, as late as the time of David;—and, strange to
say, traditionary memorials of these primeval giants exist
even now in almost every section of Palestine, in the form
of graves of enormous dimensions, as the grave of Abel,
near Damascus, thirty feet long; that of Seth, in Anti-Le-
banon, about the same size; and that of Noah, in Lebanon,
which measures no less than seventy yards! The capital
and stronghold of the Rephaim in Bashan was Ashteroth-
Karnaim; so called from the goddess there worshipped,-
the mysterious "two-horned Astarte." We shall presently
see, if my readers will accompany me in my proposed tour,
that the cities built and occupied some forty centuries ago
by these old giants exist even yet. I have traversed their
streets; I have opened the doors of their houses; I have
slept peacefully in their long-deserted halls. We shall see,
too, that among the massive ruins of these wonderful cities
lie sculptured images of Astarte, with the crescent moon,
which gave her the name Carnaim, upon her brow. Of one
of these mutilated statues I took a sketch in the city of Ke-
nath; and in the same place I bought from a shepherd an
old coin with the full figure of the goddess stamped upon it.
Four hundred years after the incursion of Chedorlaomer
and his allies, another and a far more formidable enemy,
emerging from the southern deserts, suddenly appeared on
the borders of Bashan. Sihon, the warlike king of the Am-
orites, who reigned in IIeshbon, had tried in vain to bar
their progress. The rich plains, and wooded hills, and
noble pasture-lands of Bashan offered a tempting prospect
to the shepherd tribes of Israel. They came not on a sud-
den raid, like the Nomadic Arabs of the desert; they
aimed at a complete conquest, and a permanent settlement.
The aboriginal Rephaim were now all but extinct: "Only
Og, king of Bashan, remained of the remnant of the giants."
The last of his race in this region, he was still the ruler of
his country and the whole Amorite inhabitants, from
IIISTORICAL NOTICES.
13
Hermon to the Jabbok, and from the Jordan to the desert,
acknowledged the supremacy of this giant warrior. Og
resolved to defend his country. It was a splendid inherit-
ance, and he would not resign it without a struggle. Col-
lecting his forces, he marshalled them on the broad plain
before Edrei. We have no details of the battle; but, doubt-
less, the Amorites and their leader fought bravely for coun-
try and for life. It was in vain; a stronger than human
arm warred for Israel. Og's army was defeated, and he
himself slain. It would seem that the Ammonites, like the
Bedawîn of the present day, followed in the wake of the
Israelitish army; and after the defeat and flight of the
Amorites, pillaged their deserted capital, Edrei, and carried
off as a trophy the iron bedstead of Og.
"Is it not," says
the Jewish historian, "in Rabbath of the children of Am-
mon? nine cubits the length thereof, and four cubits the
breadth of it, after the cubit of a man" (Deut. iii. 11).
The conquest of Bashan, begun under the leadership of
Moses in person, was completed by Jair, one of the most
distinguished chiefs of the tribe of Manasseh. In narrat-
ing his achievements, the sacred historian brings out another
remarkable fact connected with this kingdom of Bashan.
In Argob, one of its little provinces, Jair took no less than
sixty great cities, "fenced with high walls, gates, and bars;
besides unwalled towns a great many" (Deut. iii. 4, 5, 14).
Such a statement seems all but incredible. It would not
stand the arithmetic of Bishop Colenso for a moment.
Often, when reading the passage, I used to think that some
strange statistical mystery hung over it; for how could a
province measuring not more than thirty miles by twenty
support such a number of fortified cities, especially when
the greater part of it was a wilderness of rocks? But
mysterious, incredible as this seemed, on the spot, with my
own eyes, I have seen that it is literally true. The cities
are there to this day. Some of them retain the ancient
names recorded in the Bible. The boundaries of Argob are
14
BASHAN AND ITS GIANT CITIES.
as clearly defined by the hand of nature as those of our own
island home. These ancient cities of Bashan contain prob-
ably the very oldest specimens of domestic architecture now
existing in the world.
-
Though Bashan was conquered by the Israelites, and al-
lotted to the half tribe of Manassch, some of its native
tribes were not exterminated. Leaving the fertile plains.
and rich pasture-lands to the conquerors, these took refuge
in the rocky recesses of Argob, and amid the mountain fast-
nesses of Hermon. "The Geshurites and the Maacathites,"
Joshua tells us, "dwell among the Israelites until this day"
(xiii. 13). The former made their home among the rocks
of Argob. David, in some of his strange wanderings, met
with, and married the daughter of Talmai, their chief; and
she became the mother of Absalom. The wild acts of his
life were doubtless, to some extent, the result of maternal
training; they were at least characteristic of the stock from
which she sprung. After murdering his brother Amnon, het
fled to his uncle in Geshur, and found a safe asylum there
amid its natural fastnesses, until his father's wrath was ap-
peased. It is a remarkable fact, and it shows how little
change three thousand years have produced on this Eastern
land, that Bashan is still the refuge for all offenders. If
a man can only reach it, no matter what may have been his
crimes or his failings, he is safe; the officers of government
dare not follow him, and the avenger of blood even turns
away in despair. During a short tour in Bashan, I met
more than a dozen refugees, who, like Absalom in Geshur,
awaited in security some favourable turn of events.
Bashan was regarded by the poet-prophets of Israel as
almost, an earthly paradise. The strength and grandeur
of its oaks (Ezek. xxvii. 6), the beauty of its mountain
scenery (Ps. lxviii. 15), the unrivalled luxuriance of its pas-
tures (Jer. 1. 19), the fertility of its wide-spreading plains,
and the excellence of its cattle (Ps. xxii. 12; Micah vii.
14),-all supplied the sacred penmen with lofty imagery.
GEOGRAPHICAL DIVISIONS OF BASHAN.
15
Remnants of the oak forests still clothe the mountain-sides;
the soil of the plains and the pastures on the downs are rich
as of yore; and though the periodic raids of Arab tribes
have greatly thinned the flocks and herds, as they have de-
solated the cities, yet such as remain,-the rams, and lambs,
and goats, and bulls,-may be appropriately described in
the words of Ezekiel, as "all of them fatlings of Bashan"
(xxxix. 18).
Lying on an exposed frontier, bordering on the restless.
and powerful kingdom of Damascus, and in the route of the
warlike monarchs of Nineveh and Babylon, Bashan often
experienced the horrors of war, and the desolating tide of
conquest often rolled past and over it. The traces of an-
cient warfare are yet visible, as we shall see, in its ruinous
fortresses; and we shall also see that it is now as much ex-
posed as ever to the ravages of enemies. It was the first
province of Palestine that fell before the Assyrian invaders;
and its inhabitants were the first who sat and wept as cap-
tives by the banks of the rivers of the East.
Bashan ap-
pears to have lost its unity with its freedom. It had been
united under Og, and it remained united in possession of
the half tribe of Manassch; but after the captivity its very
name, as a geographical term, disappears from history.
When the Israelites were taken captive, the scattered rem-
nants of the ancient tribes came back, some from the
parched plains of the great desert, some from the rocky defiles
of Argob, and some from the heights and glens of Her-
mon, and they filled and occupied the whole country.
Henceforth the name "Bashan" is never once mentioned by
either sacred or classic writer; but the four provinces into
which it was then rent are often referred to, and these
provinces were not themselves new. Gaulanitis is manifest-
ly the territory of Golan, the ancient IIebrew city of refuge;
Auranitis is only the Greek form of the Hauran of Ezekiel
(xlviii. 16); Batanea, the name then given to the castern
mountain range, is but a corruption of Bashan; and Tra
J
16
BASHAN AND ITS GIANT CITIES.
chonitis, embracing that singularly wild and rocky district
on the north, is just a Greck translation of the old Argob,
"the stony." This last province is the only one mentioned
in the New Testament. It formed part of the tetrarchy of
Philip, son of the great Herod (Luke iii. 1). ´But though
Bashan is not mentioned by name, it was the scene of a
few of the most interesting events of New Testament his-
tory. It was down the western slopes of Bashan's high
table-land that the demons, expelled by Jesus from the poor
man, chased the herd of swine into the Sea of Galilee. It
was on the grassy slopes of Bashan's hills that the multi-
tudes were twice miraculously fed by the merciful Saviour.
And that "high mountain," to which He led Peter, and
James, and John, and on whose summit they beheld the
glories of the transfiguration, was that very Hermon which
forms the boundary of Bashan. And the sacred history of
this old kingdom does not end here. Paul travelled through
it on his way to Damascus; and, after his conversion, Ba-
shan, which then formed the principal part of the kingdom
of Arabia, was the first field of his labours as an apostle of
Jesus. "When it pleased God," he tells us, "who separat-
ed me from my mother's womb, and called ine by his grace,
to reveal his Son in me, that I might preach him among the
heathen; immediately I conferred not with flesh and blood:
neither went I up to Jerusalem to them which were apos-
tles before me; but I went into Arabia” (Gal. i. 15–17).
His mission to Arabia, or to Bashan, seems to have been
eminently successful; and that Church, which may be
called the first-fruits of his labours, made steady progress.
In the fourth century nearly the whole inhabitants were
Christian; heathen temples were converted into churches,
and new churches were built in every town and village.
At that period there were no fewer than thirty-three bishop-
rics in the single ecclesiastical province of Arabia. The
Christians are now nearly all gone; but their churches, as
we shall see, are there still, — two or three turned into
-
·
J
PATRIARCHAL MANNERS AND CUSTOMS.
17
mosques, but the vast majority of them standing desolate
in deserted cities. Noble structures some of them are, with
marble colonnades and stately porticos, showing us alike
the wealth and the taste of their founders, and now remain-
ing almost perfect, as if awaiting the influx of a new Christ-
ian population. There was something to me inexpressibly
mournful in passing from the silent street into the silent
church; and especially in reading, as I often read, Greek
inscriptions over the doors, telling how such an one, at such
a date, had consecrated this building, formerly a temple of
Jupiter, or Venus, or Astarte, as the case might be, to the
worship of the Triune God, and had called it by the name
of the blessed saint or martyr So-and-so. Now there are
no worshippers in those churches; and the people who for
twelve centuries have held supreme authority in the land,
have been the constant and ruthless persecutors of Christ-
ians and Christianity. But their power is on the wane;
their reign is well-nigh at an end; and the time is not far
distant when Christian influence, and power, and industry,
shall again repeople the deserted cities, and fill the vacant
churches, and cultivate the desolated fields of Palestine.
The foregoing notices will show my readers that Bashan
is, in many respects, among the most interesting of the
provinces of Palestine. It is comparatively unknown, be-
sides. Western Palestine is traversed every year; it forms
a necessary part of the Grand Tour, and it has been de-
scribed in scores of volumes. But the travellers who have
hitherto succeeded in exploring Bashan scarcely amount to
half-a-dozen; and the state of the country is so unsettled,
and many of the people who inhabit it are so hostile to
Europeans, and, in fact, to strangers in general, that there
seems to be but little prospect of an increase of tourists in
that region. This very isolation of Bashan added immense-
ly to the charm and instructiveness of my visit. Both land
and people remain thoroughly Oriental. Nowhere else is
patriarchal life so fully or so strikingly exemplified. The
18
BASHAN AND ITS GIANT CITIES.
social state of the country and the habits of the people are
just what they were in the days of Abraham or Job. The
raids of the eastern tribes are as frequent and as devastat-
ing now as they were then. The flocks of a whole village
are often swept away in a single incursion, and the fruits
of a whole harvest carried off in a single night. The arms
used are, with the exception of a few muskets, similar to
those with which Chedorlaomer conquered the Rephaim.
The implements of husbandry, too, are as rude and as sim-
ple as they were when Isaac cultivated the valley of Gerar.
And the hospitality is everywhere as profuse and as genu-
ine as that which Abraham exercised in his tents at Mamre.
I could scarcely get over the feeling, as I rode across the
plains of Bashan and climbed the wooded hills through the
oak forests, and saw the primitive ploughs and yokes of
oxen and goads, and heard the old Bible salutations given.
by every passer-by, and received the urgent invitations to
rest and eat at every village and hamlet, and witnessed the
killing of the kid or lamb, and the almost incredible de-
spatch with which it is cooked and served to the guests,-I
could scarcely get over the feeling, I say, that I had been
somehow spirited away back thousands of years, and set
down in the land of Nod, or by the patriarch's tents at
Beersheba. Common life in Bashan I found to be a con-
stant enacting of early Bible stories. Western Palestine
has been in a great measure spoiled by travellers. In the
towns frequented by tourists, and in their usual lines of
route, I always found a miserable parody of Western man-
ners, and not unfrequently of Western dress and language;
but away in this old kingdom one meets with nothing in
dress, language, or manners, save the stately and instruc-
tive simplicity of patriarchal times.
Another peculiarity of Bashan I cannot refrain from com-
municating to my readers. The ancient cities and even the
villages of Western Palestine have been almost annihilated;
with the exception of Jerusalem, IIebron, and two or three
ANCIENT HOUSES.
19
others, not one stone has been left upon another. In some
cases we can scarcely discover the exact spot where a noted
city stood, so complete has been the desolation. Even in
Jerusalem itself only a very few vestiges of the ancient
buildings remain: the Tower of David, portions of the wall
of the Temple area, and one or two other fragments,-just
enough to form the subject of dispute among antiquaries.
Zion is "ploughed like a field." I have seen the plough at
work on it, and with the hand that writes these lines I have
plucked ears of corn in the fields of Zion. I have pitched my
tent on the site of ancient Tyre, and searched, but searched
in vain, for a single trace of its ruins. Then, but not till then,
did I realize the full force and truth of the prophetic denun-
ciation upon it: "Thou shalt be sought for, yet shalt thou
never be found again” (Ezek. xxvi. 21). The very ruins of
Capernaum-that city which, in our Lord's day, was "exalted
unto heaven"—have been so completely obliterated, that
the question of its site never has been, and probably never
will be, definitely settled. And these are not solitary cases:
Jericho has disappeared; Bethel is "come to nought"
(Amos v. 5); Samaria is "as an heap of the field, as plant-
ings of a vineyard" (Micah i. 6). The state of Bashan is
totally different: it is literally crowded with towns and
large villages; and though the vast majority of them are
deserted, they are not ruined. I have more than once
entered a deserted city in the evening, taken possession of a
comfortable house, and spent the night in peace. Many of
the houses in the ancient cities of Bashan are perfect, as if
only finished yesterday. The walls are sound, the roofs
unbroken, the doors, and even the window-shutters in their
places. Let not my readers think that I am transcribing a
passage from the "Arabian Nights." I am relating sober
facts; I am simply telling what I have seen, and what I
purpose just now more fully to describe. "But how," you
ask me, "can we account for the preservation of ordinary
dwellings in a land of ruins? If one of our modern Eng-
20
BASHAN AND ITS GIANT CITIES.
lish cities were deserted for a millennium, there would
scarcely be a fragment of a wall standing." The reply is
easy enough. The houses of Bashan are not ordinary
houses. Their walls are from five to eight feet thick, built
of large squared blocks of basalt; the roofs are formed of
slabs of the same material, hewn like plauks, and reaching
from wall to wall; the very doors and window-shutters are
of stone, hung upon pivots projecting above and below.
Some of these ancient cities have from two to five hundred
houses still perfect, but not a man to dwell in them. On
one occasion, from the battlements of the Castle of Saleah,
I counted some thirty towns and villages, dotting the sur-
face of the vast plain, many of them almost as perfect as
when they were built, and yet for more than five centuries
there has not been a single inhabitant in one of them. It
may easily be imagined with what feelings I read on that
day, and on that spot, the remarkable words of Moses:
"The generation to come of your children that shall rise
up after you, and the stranger that shall come from a far
land, shall say when they see the plagues of this land, even
all nations shall say, Wherefore hath the Lord done this
unto this land? what meaneth the heat of this great
anger ?"
My readers are now prepared, I trust, to make a pleasant
and profitable excursion to the giant cities of Bashan. I
shall promise not to make too large a demand upon their
time and patience, and yet to give them a tolerably clear
and full view of one of the most interesting countries in the
world.
THE CARAVAN.
On a bright and balmy morning in February, a party of
seven cavaliers defiled from the East Gate of Damascus,
rode for half-an-hour among the orchards that skirt the old
city, and then, turning to the left, struck out, along a broad
beaten path through the open fields, in a south-easterly di-
rection. The leader was a wild-looking figure. His dress
OUR ARAB GUIDE.
21
was a red cotton tunic or shirt, fastened round the waist by
a broad leathern girdle. Over it was a loose jacket of
dressed sheepskin, the wool inside. His feet and legs were
bare. On his head was a flame-coloured handkerchief,
fastened above by a coronet of black camel's hair, which
left the ends and long fringe to flow over his shoulders.
He was mounted on an active, shaggy pony, with a pad for
a saddle, and a hair halter for a bridle. Before him, across
the back of his little steed, he carried a long rifle, his only
weapon. Immediately behind him, on powerful Arab
horses, were three men in Western costume: one of these
was the writer. Next came an Arab, who acted as drag-
oman or rather courier; and two servants on stout hacks
brought up the rear. On gaining the beaten track, our
guide struck into a sharp canter. The great city was soon
left far behind, and, on turning, we could see its tall white.
minarets shooting up from the sombre foliage, and thrown
into bold relief by the dark back-ground of Anti-Lebanon.
The plain spread out on each side, smooth as a lake, cov-
ered with the delicate green of the young grain. Here
and there were long belts and large clumps of dusky olives,
from the midst of which rose the gray towers of a mosque
or the white dome of a saint's tomb. On the south the
plain was shut in by a ridge of black, bare hills, appropri
ately named Jebel-el-Aswad, "the Black Mountains;" while
away on the west, in the distance, Hermon rose in all its
majesty, a pyramid of spotless snow. From whatever point.
one sees it, there are few landscapes in the world which,
for richness and soft enchanting beauty, can be compared
with the plain of Damascus.
After riding about seven miles, during which we passed
straggling groups of men--some on foot, some on horses and
donkeys, and some on camels, most of them dressed like our
guide, and all hurrying on in the same direction as our-
selves we reached the eastern extremity of the Black
Mountains, and found ourselves on the side of a narrow green
22
BASHAN AND ITS GIANT CITIES.
vale, through the centre of which flows the river Pharpar.
A bridge here spans the stream; and beyond it, in the rich
meadows, the Haurán Caravan was being marshalled. Up
to this point the road is safe, and may be travelled almost at
any time; but on crossing the Awaj, we enter the domains
of the Bedawîn, whose law is the sword, and whose right is
might. Our further progress was liable to be disputed at any
moment. The attacks of the Bedawîn, when made, are sud-
den and impetuous; and resistance, to be effectual, must be
prompt and decided. During the winter season, this eastern
route is in general pretty secure, as the Arab tribes have their
encampments far distant on the banks of the Euphrates, or in
the interior of the desert; but the war between the Druses
and the government, which had just been concluded, had
drawn these daring marauders from their customary haunts,
and they endured the rain and cold of the Syrian frontier in
the hope of plunder. All seemed fully aware of this, and ap
peared to feel, here as elsewhere, that the hand of the Ish-
maelite is against every man. Consequently, stragglers hur-
ried up and fell into the ranks; bales and packages on mules
and camels were re-arranged and more carefully adjusted;
muskets and pistols were examined, and cartridges got into
a state of readiness; armed men were placed in something like
order along the sides of the file of animals; and a few horse-
men were sent on in front, to scour the neighboring hills and
the skirts of the great plain beyond, so as to prevent surprise.
A number of Druses who here joined the caravan, and who
were easily distinguished by their snow-white turbans, and
bold, manly bearing, appeared to take the chief direction
in these warlike preparations, though, as the caravan was
mainly made up of Christians, one of themselves, called
Mûsa, was the nominal leader. It was a strange and excit
ing scene, and one would have thought that any attempt
to reduce such a refractory and heterogeneous multitude of
men and animals to anything like order would be absolute
ly useless. Some of the camels and donkeys breaking loose
STARTING OF THE CARAVAN.
23
scattered their loads over the plain, and spread confusion
all round them; others growled, and kicked, and brayed;
drivers shouted and gesticulated; men and boys ran through
the crowd, asking for missing brothers or companions; horse-
men galloped from group to group, entreating and threaten-
ing by turns. At length, however, the order was given to
march. It passed along from front to rear, and the next
moment every sound was hushed; the very beasts seemed to
comprehend its meaning, for they fell quietly into their
places, and the long files, now four and five abreast, began
to move over the grassy plain with a stillness which was
almost painful.
Leaving the fertile valley of the Pharpar, and crossing a
low, bleak ridge, we entered one of the dreariest regions I
had hitherto seen in Syria. A reach of rolling table-land
extended for several miles on each side-shut in on the
right by black hills, and on the left, by bare rugged banks.
Not a house, nor a tree, nor a green shrub, nor a living
creature, was within the range of vision. Loose black
stones and boulders of basalt were strewn thickly over the
whole surface, and here and there thrown into rude heaps;
but whether by the hand of man, or by some freak of nature,
seemed doubtful. For nearly two hours we wound our
weary way through this wilderness; now listening to the
stories of Mûsa, and now following him to the top of some
hillock, in the hope of getting a peep at a more inviting
landscape. At length we came to the brow of a short de-
scent leading into a green meadow, with the traces of an
old camp at one side round a little fountain, near which
were some tombs with rude headstones. We were told that
this is a favourite camping-ground of the Anezeh during the
spring. Immediately beyond the meadow a plain opened
before us, stretching on the east and west as far as the eye
could see, and southward reaching to the base of the Hau-
rân mountains. It is flat as a lake, covered with deep, rich,
black soil, without rock or stone, and, even at this early sea-
+
2
24
BASHAN AND ITS GIANT CITIES.
son, giving promise of luxuriant pasturage. Some conical
tells are seen at intervals, rising up from its smooth surface,
like rocky islets in the occan. This is the plain of Bashan,
and though now desolate and forsaken, it showed us how
rich were the resources of that old kingdom.
With increased speed-but still in the deepest silence-
the caravan swept onward over this noble plain. We could
scarcely distinguish any track, though Mûsa assured us we
were on the Sultâny, or "king's highway." It seemed to us
that his course was directed by a conical hill away on the
southern horizon, rather than by any trace of a road on the
plain itself. As we advanced, we began to notice a black
line extending across the plain in the distance in front.
Gradually it became more and more defined, and, ere day-
light waned, it seemed like a Cyclopean wall built in some
bygone age, and afterwards shattered by an earthquake.
Riding up to Mùsa, I asked what it was. "That," said he,
"is the Lejah." Lejah is the name now given to the an-
cient province of Trachonitis; and this bank of shattered
rocks turned out to be its northern border. The Lejah, as
we shall see hereafter, is a vast field of basalt, placed in the
midst of the fertile plain of Bashan. Its surface has an ele-
vation of some thirty feet above the plain, and its border is
everywhere as clearly defined by the broken cliffs as any
shore-line. In fact, it strongly reminded me of some parts
of the coast of Jersey. And this remarkable feature has not
been overlooked in the topography of the Bible. Lejah, my
readers will remember, corresponds to the ancient Argob.
Now, in every instance in which that province is mentioned
by the sacred historians, there is one descriptive word at-
tached to it—chebel; which our translators have unfortu-
nately rendered in one passage "region," and in another,
country" (Deut. iii. 4, 13, 14; 1 Kings iv. 13), but which
means a sharply defined border, as if measured off by a
rope" (chebel); and it thus describes, with singular accuracy
and minuteness, the rocky rampart which encircles the Lejah.
66
THE HALT OF THE CARAVAN.
25
THE DESERTED CITY.
The sun went down, and the short twilight was made
shorter by heavy clouds which drifted across the face of the
sky. A thick rain began to fall, which made the prospect of
a night march or a bivouac equally unpleasant. Still I rode
on through the darkness, striving to dispel gloomy forebod-
ings by the stirring memory of Bashan's ancient glory, and
the thought that I was now treading its soil, and on my way
to the great cities founded and inhabited four thousand
years ago by the giant Rephaim. Before the darkness set
in, Mûsa had pointed out to me the towers of three or four
of these cities rising above the rocky barrier of the Lejah.
How I strained my eyes in vain to pierce the deepening gloom!
Now I knew that some of them must be close at hand. The
sharp ring of my horse's feet on pavement startled me.
This was followed by painful stumbling over loose stones,
and the twisting of his limbs among jagged rocks. The sky
was black overhead; the ground black beneath; the rain
was drifting in my face, so that nothing could be seen. A
halt was called; and it was with no little pleasure I heard
the order given for the caravan to rest till the moon rose.
"Is there any spot," I asked of an Arab at my side, "where
we could get shelter from the rain?" "There is a house
ready for you," he answered. "A house! Is there a house
here ?" 'Hundreds of them; this is the town of Burâk.”
We were conducted up a rugged winding path, which
seemed, so far as we could make out in the dark and by the
motion of our horses, to be something like a ruinous stair-
case. At length the dark outline of high walls began to ap-
pear against the sky, and presently we entered a paved
street. Here we were told to dismount and give our horses
to the servants. An Arab struck a light, and, inviting ust
to follow, passed through a low, gloomy door, into a spacious
chamber.
I looked with no little interest round the apartment of
26
BASHAN AND ITS GIANT CITIES.
which we had taken such unceremonious possession; but the
light was so dim, and the walls, roof, and floor so black, that
I could make out nothing satisfactorily. Getting a torch.
from one of the servants I lighted it, and proceeded to examine
the mysterious mansion; for, though drenched with rain, and
wearied with a twelve hours' ride, I could not rest. I felt
an excitement such as I never before had experienced. I
could scarcely believe in the reality of what I saw, and what
I heard from my guides in reply to cager questions. The
house seemed to have undergone little change from the time.
its old master had left it; and yet the thick nitrous crust on
the floor showed that it had been deserted for long ages.
The wails were perfect, nearly five feet thick, built of large
blocks of hewn stones, without lime or cement of any kind.
The roof was formed of large slabs of the same black basalt,
lying as regularly, and jointed as closely as if the workmen
had only just completed them. They measured twelve feet
in length, eighteen inches in breadth, and six inches in thick-
ness. The ends rested on a plain stone cornice, projecting
about a foot from each side wall. The chamber was twenty
feet long, twelve wide, and ten high. The outer door was
a slab of stone, four and a half feet high, four wide, and
cight inches thick. It hung upon pivots formed of project-
ing parts of the slab, working in sockets in the lintel and
threshold; and though so massive, I was able to open and
shut it with ease. At one end of the room was a small win-
dow with a stone shutter. An inner door, also of stone, but
of finer workmanship, and not quite so heavy as the other,
admitted to a chamber of the same size and appearance.
From it a much larger door communicated with a third
chamber, to which there was a descent by a flight of stone
steps. This was a spacious hall, equal in width to the two
rooms, and about twenty-five feet long by twenty high. A
semicircular arch was thrown across it, supporting the stone
roof; and a gate so large that camels could pass in and out,
opened on the street. The gate was of stone, and in its
THE DESERTED CITY.
27
place; but some rubbish had accumulated on the threshold,
and it appeared to have been open for ages.
Here our
horses were comfortably installed. Such were the internal
arrangements of this strange old mansion. It had only one
story; and its simple, massive style of architecture gave ev-
idence of a very remote antiquity. On a large stone which
formed the lintel of the gateway, there was a Greek inscrip-
tion; but it was so high up, and my light so faint, that I was
unable to decipher it, though I could see that the letters
were of the oldest type. It is probably the same which was
copied by Burckhardt, and which bears a date apparently
equivalent to the year B.c. 306!
Owing to the darkness of the night and the shortness of
our stay, I was unable to ascertain from personal observa-
tion, either the extent of Burâk, or the general character of
its buildings; but the men who gathered round me, when I
returned to my chamber, had often visited it. They said
the houses were all like the one we occupied, only some
smaller, and a few larger, and that there were no great
buildings. Burâk stands on the north-east corner of the Le-
jah, and was thus one of the frontier towns of ancient Ar-
gob. It is built upon rocks, and encompassed by rocks so
wild and rugged as to render it a natural fortress.
After a few hours' rest, the order for march was again
given. We found our horses at the door, and mounting at
once we followed Musâ. The rain had ceased, the sky was
clear, and the moon shone brightly, half revealing the sav-
age features of the environs of Burâk. I can never forget
that scene. Huge masses of shapeless rock rose up here and
there among and around the houses, to the height of fifteen
and twenty fect-their summits jagged, and their sides all
shattered. Between them were pits and yawning fissures,
as many feet in depth; while the flat surfaces of naked rock
were thickly strewn with huge boulders of basalt. The nar-
row tortuous road by which Mûsa led us out was in places car-
ried over chasms, and in places cut through cliffs. An an-
·
28
BASIIAN AND ITS GIANT CITIES.
cient aqueduct ran alongside of it, which, in former days,
conveyed a supply of water from a neighbouring winter
stream to the tanks and reservoirs from which the town gets
its present name, Burâk ("the tanks"). A slow but fatigu
ing ride of an hour brought us out of this labyrinth of rocks
and over a torrent bed into a fine plain. We soon after
passed the caravan, which had started some time before us;
and, as there was no danger to be apprehended, we contin-
ued at a rapid pace southward. The dawn of morning
showed us the rugged features and rocky border of the Le-
jah close upon our right, thickly studded with old towns
and villages; while upon our left a fertile plain stretched
away to the horizon. And here we observed with surprise,
that there was not a trace of human habitation, except on
the tops of the little conical hills which rise up at long inter-
vals. This plain is the home of the Ishmaelite, who has
always dwelt "in the presence (literally, in the face) of his
brethren" (Gen. xvi. 12), and against whose bold incursions.
there never has been any effectual barrier except the muni-
tions of rocks and the heights of hills.
We rode on. The hills of Bashan were close in front;
their summits clothed with oak forests, and their sides
studded with old towns. As we ascended them, the rock-
fields of the Lejah were spread out on the right; and there,
too, the ancient cities were thickly planted. Not less than
thirty of the threescore cities of Argob were in view at one
time on that day; their black houses and ruins half concealed
by the black rocks amid which they are built, and their
massive towers rising up here and there like the "keeps" of
old Norman fortresses. How we longed to visit and ex-
plore them. But political reasons made it necessary we
should, in the first place, pay our respects to one of the
leading Druse chiefs. On them depended the success of our
future researches. Without their protection we could not
ride in safety a single mile through Haurân. I felt confi
dent that protection would be cheerfully granted; still I
SCENERY OF BASHAN.
thought it best not to draw the bridle until we reached the
town of Hiyât, from whence, after a short pause to drink
coffee with the Sheikh, who would not let us pass, we rode
to the residence of Assad Amer, at Hit, where we met with
a reception worthy of the hospitality of the old patriarchs.
II.
"Once more we look, and all is still as night,
All desolate! Groves, temples, palaces,
Swept from the sight: and nothing visible,
save here and there
An empty tomb, a fragment like a limb
Of some dismembered giant."
29
SCENERY OF BASHAN.
With the first dawn of the new morning, I went up to the
flat roof of Sheikh Assad's house. The house is in the high-
est part of the town, and commands a wide view of the
northern section of the mountain range and of the surround-
ing plain. The sky was cloudless, and of that deep dark
blue which one never sees in this land of clouds and haze.
The rain of the preceding day had cleared the atmosphere,
and rendered it transparent as crystal. The sun was not
yet up, but his beams shed a rich glow over the whole east-
ern sky, making it gleam like burnished gold, and throwing
out into bold relief a ridge of wood-clad peaks that here
shut in the view. From the base of the mountain on the
north, a smooth plain, already green with young grass, ex-
tended away beyond the range of vision, dotted here and
there with conical tells, on whose tops were the remains of
ancient fortresses and villages. But on the west lay the ob-
jects of chief interest; the widespread rock-fields of Argob,
the rich pasture-lands of Bashan encircling them, and run-
ning away in one unbroken expanse to the base of Hermon.
30
BASHAN AND ITS GIANT CITIES.
Long and intently did my eyes dwell on that magnificent
landscape. Now, the strange old cities rivetted my atten-
tion, rising up in gloomy grandeur from the sea of rocks.
Now the great square towers and castellated heights and
tells along the rugged border of Argob were minutely ex-
amined by the help of a powerful glass; and now the eye
wandered eagerly over the plain beyond, noting one, and
another, and another of those dark cities that stud ft so
thickly. On the western horizon rose Hermon, a spotless
pyramid of snow; and from it, northward, ran the serried,
snow-capped ridge of "Lebanon toward the sun-rising"
(Josh. xiii. 5). As I looked on that western barrier of Ba-
shan, the first sunbeams touched the crest of Hermon; and
as they touched it, its icy crown glistened like polished
steel, reminding me how strikingly descriptive was the
name given to that mountain by the Amorites - Shenir,
the "breastplate," or "shield" (Deut. iii. 9).
For an hour or more I sat rapt in the contemplation of the
wide and wondrous panorama. At least a thousand square
miles of Og's ancient kingdom were spread out before me.
There was the country whose "giant" (Rephaim, Gen.
xiv.) inhabitants the eastern kings smote before they de-
scended into the plains of Sodom. There were those “three
score great cities" of Argob, whose "walls, and gates, and
brazen bars were noted with surprise by Moses and the
Israelites, and whose Cyclopean architecture and massive
stone gates even now fill the western traveller with amaze-
ment, and give his simplest descriptions much of the charm
and strangeness of romance. So clear was the air that the
outline of the most distant objects was sharp and distinct.
Hermon itself, though forty miles away, did not seem more
than eight or ten, when the sun embossed its furrowed sides
with light and shade.
I was at length roused from a pleasing reverie by the
deep voice of Sheikh Assad giving a cordial and truly patri-
archal salutation.
""
THE BEDAWIN.
31
"What a glorious view you have from this commanding
spot!" I said, when the compliments were over.
"Yes, we can see the Bedawîn at a great distance, and
have time to prepare for them," was his characteristic re-
ply.
"What do the desert tribes, then, trouble you here; and
do they even venture to plunder the Druses ?”
"Not a spot of border land from Wady Musa to Aleppo
is safe from their raids, and Druses, Moslems, and Christ-
ians are alike to them. In fact, their hand is against all.
When the Anezeh come up in spring, their flocks cover
that plain like locusts, and were it not for our rifles they
would not leave us a hoof nor a blade of corn. To-day
their horsemen pillage a village here; to-morrow, another
in the Ghutah of Sham (Damascus); and the day following
they strip the Baghdad caravan. Oh, my lord! these sons of
Ishmael are fleet as gazelles, and fierce as leopards. Would
Allah only rid us of them and the Turks, Syria might
prosper."
The Sheikh described the Arabs to the life, just as they
were described by the spirit of prophecy nearly four thou
sand years ago. "He (Ishmael) shall be a wild man; his
hand against every man, and every man's hand against
him; and he shall dwell in the presence of all his brethren"
(Gen. xvi. 12). These "children of the cast" come up now
as they did in Gideon's days, when "they destroyed the in-
crease of the earth, and left no sustenance for Israel, neither
sheep, nor ox, nor ass. For they came up with their cat-
tle and their tents, and they came as grasshoppers for mul-
titude; both they and their camels were without number;
and they entered into the land to destroy it" (Judges vi.
4, 5). During the course of another tour through the west-
ern part of Bashan, I rode in one day for more than twenty
miles in a straight course through the flocks of an Arab
tribe.
On remarking to the Sheikh the great number of old
G
32
BASHAN AND ITS GIANT CITIES.
cities in view, he pointed out to me the largest and most
remarkable of them; and among these I heard with no little
interest, the name of Edrei, the ancient capital of Bashan,
and the residence of Og, the last of its giant kings. Others
there were too, such as Shuka, and Bathanyeh, and Mus-
mich, whose names, as we shall see, are not unknown in
history.
From a general survey of the country I turned to an ex-
amination of the town. Hit is in form rectangular, and
about a mile and a half in circumference. I traced most
of the old streets, though now in a great measure filled up
with fallen houses and heaps of rubbish, the accumulations.
of long centuries. The streets were narrow and irregular,
and thus widely different from those laid out in many other
cities in this land by Roman architects. A large portion
of the town is ruinous; but some of the very oldest houses
are still perfect. They are simple and massive in style,
containing only one story, and generally two or three large
rooms opening on an enclosed court. The walls are built
of large stones roughly hewn, though closely jointed, and
laid without cement. The roofs are formed of long slabs
placed horizontally from wall to wall; thus forming the flat
"house tops," where the people are now accustomed to sit
and pray, just as they were in New Testament times. In-
deed, the "house-top" is the favourite prayer-place of Mo-
hammedans in Syria (sce Acts x. 9; Matt. xxiv. 17; Isa.
xv. 3; Zeph. i. 5). The doors are stone, and I saw many
tastefully ornamented with panels and garlands of fruit
and flowers sculptured in relief. There is not a single new,
or even modern, house in Hît. The Druses have taken
possession and settled down without any attempt at alter-
ation or addition. Those now occupied are evidently of
the most remote antiquity, and not more than half of the
habitable dwellings are inhabited. I saw the remains of
several Greek or Roman temples, and a considerable num-
ber of Greek inscriptions on the old houses, and on loose
•
AQUEDUCTS.
33
stones. The inscriptions have no historic value, being
chiefly votive and memorial tablets: two of them have
dates corresponding to A.D. 120, and A.D. 208. Nothing is
known of the history of Hit; we cannot even tell its an-
cient name; but its position, the character of its houses and
of its old massive ramparts, seem to warrant the conclusion
that it was one of those "three score great cities" which
Jair captured in Argob (Deut. iii. 4, 14).
The news of our arrival had already reached Sheikh
Fares, the elder brother of our host, and one of the most
powerful chiefs in Haurân. While we sat at breakfast a
messenger arrived with an urgent request that we should
visit him and spend the night at his house in Shuhba. We
gladly consented; and as that town is only four miles south
of Hît, we resolved to employ the day in exploring the
northern section of the mountain range. Our horses were
soon at the door. Sheikh Assad supplied an active, intel-
ligent, and well-mounted guide, and his own nephew, a
noble-looking youth of one-and-twenty, volunteered his
services as escort. Mounting at once, amid the respectful
salâms of a crowd of white-turbaned Druses, we rode off
northward in the track of an old Roman road. Finely-cul-
tivated fields skirted our path for some distance, already
green with young wheat, and giving promise of luxuriance
such as is seldom seen in Palestine. The day was bright
and cool, the ground firm and smooth, our horses fresh, and
our own spirits high. Our new companions, too, were
eager to display the mettle of their steeds, and their unri-
valled skill in horsemanship. So, loosening the rein, we
dashed across the gentle slopes, and only drew bridle on
reaching Bathanyeh, about four miles from Hit. Along our
route for a mile and more, we observed the opening of a
subterranean aqueduct, intended in former days to supply
the city with water. Such aqueducts are common on the
eastern border of Syria and Palestine, especially in Haurân
and the plain of Damascus. They appear to have been con
34
BASHAN AND ITS GIANT CITIES.
structed as follows:-A shaft was sunk to the depth of from
ten to twenty feet, at a spot where it was supposed water
might be found; then a tunnel was excavated on the level
of the bottom of the shaft, and in the direction of the town
to be supplied. At a distance of about a hundred yards
another shaft was sunk, connecting the tunnel with the sur-
face; and so the work was carried on until it was brought
close to the city, where a great reservoir was made. Some
of these aqueducts are nearly twenty miles in length; and
even though no living spring should exist along their whole
course, they soon collect in the rainy season sufficient sur-
face water to supply the largest reservoirs. Springs are
rare in Bashan. It is a thirsty land; but cisterns of enor-
mous dimensions—some open, others covered—are seen in
every city and village. It was doubtless by some such
"conduit" as this that Hezekiah took water into Jerusalem
from the upper spring of Gihon (2 Kings xx. 20).
ANCIENT CITIES.
Scrambling through, or rather over, a ruinous gateway,
we entered the city of Bathanych. A wide street lay be-
fore us, the pavement perfect, the houses on each side
standing, streets and lanes branching off to the right and
left. There was something inexpressibly mournful in riding
along that silent street, and looking in through half-open
doors to one after another of those desolate houses, with the
rank grass and weeds in their courts, and the brambles
growing in festoons over the doorways, and branches of
trees shooting through the gaping rents in the old walls.
The ring of our horses' feet on the pavement awakened the
echoes of the city, and startled many a strange tenant.
Owls flapped their wings round the gray towers; daws
shrieked as they flew away from the house-tops; foxes ran
out and in among shattered dwellings, and two jackals
rushed from an open door, and scampered off along the
street before us. The graphic language of Isaiah, uttered
CITY OF BATHANYEH.
A
35
regarding another city, but vividly descriptive of desola-
tion in any place, came up at once to my mind and to my
lips: "Wild beasts of the desert shall lie there; and their
houses shall be full of doleful creatures; and owls shall
dwell there, and satyrs shall dance there" (Isa. xiii, 21).
Bathanych stands on the northern declivity of the mount-
ains of Bashan, and commands a view of the boundless
plain towards the lakes of Damascus. About a mile and a
half to the north-west I saw two large villages close to-
gether. Two miles further, on the top of a high tell, were
the ruins of a town, which, my guides said, are both exten-
sive and beautiful. Three other towns were visible in the
plain, and two on the slopes eastward. How we wished to
visit these! but time would not permit. From this, as from
every other point where I reached the limits of my pre-
scribed tour, I turned aside with regret; because away be-
yond, the eye rested on enticing ruins, and unexplored
towns and villages.
Bathanych is not quite so large as IIit, but the buildings
are of a superior character and in much better preserva-
tion. One of the houses in which I rested for a time might
almost be termed a palace. A spacious gateway, with
massive folding-doors of stone, opened from the street into
a large court. On the left was a square tower some forty
feet in height. Round the court, and opening into it, were
the apartments, all in perfect preservation; and yet the
place does not seem to have been inhabited for centuries.
Greek inscriptions on the principal buildings prove that
they existed at the commencement of our era; and in the.
whole town I did not see a solitary trace of Mohammedan
occupation, so that it has probably been deserted for at
least a thousand years. The name at once suggests its
identity with Batanis, one of the thirty-four ecclesiastical
cities of Arabia, whose bishops were in the fifth century
suffragans of the primate of Bostra. Batanis was the ca-
pital of the Greek province of Batanæa, a part of the te-
4
36
BASHAN AND ITS GIANT CITIES.
trarchy of Philip, mentioned by Josephus, but included by
Luke (iii. 1) in the "region of Trachonitis." The region
round it is still called "the Land of Batanea;" and the
name is interesting as a modern representative of the
Scriptural Bashan.
Turning away from this interesting place, we rode along
the mountain side eastward to Shuka, four miles distant.
This is also a very old town, and must at one time have
contained at least 20,000 inhabitants, though now it has
scarcely twenty families. Ptolemy, the Greek geographer,
calls it Saccaea. It was evidently rebuilt by the Romans,
as only a very few of its antique massive houses remain,
and the shattered ruins of temples are seen on every side.
One of these temples was long used as a church, and the
ruins of another church also exist, which, an inscription
tells us, was dedicated by Bishop Tiberinos to St. George
in A.D. 369. Around Shuka are some remarkable tombs,
square towers, about twenty feet on each side, and from
thirty to forty high, divided into stories. Tablets over the
doors record the names of the dead who once lay there, and
the dates of their death. They are of the first and second
centuries of our era. They have been all rifled, so that we
cannot tell how the bodies were deposited, though proba-
bly the arrangements were similar to those in the tombs
of Palmyra. From the ruins of Shuka three other towns
were in sight among the hills on the east.
Remounting, we rode for ten miles through a rich agri-
cultural district to Shuhba. We passed only one village,
but we saw several towns on the wooded sides of the
mountain to the left, and numerous others down on the
plain to the right. Crossing a rugged ravine, and ascend-
ing a steep bank, we reached the walls of Shuhba. They
are completely ruined, so much so, that the only way into
the city is over them, beside a beautiful Roman gateway,
now blocked up with rubbish. Having entered, we pro-
ceeded along a well-paved street-the most perfect speci-
ROMAN CITY OF SHUHBA.
37
men of Roman pavement I had yet seen-to the residence
of the chief. In the large area in front of his mansion we
found a crowd of eager people, and the first to hold out the
hand of welcome was our kind host of the previous night,
Sheikh Assad. He introduced us to his brother Fares, and
we were then ushered into an apartment where we found
comfort, smiling faces, and a hearty welcome.
Shuhba is almost entirely a Roman city-the ramparts
are Roman, the streets have the old Roman pavement,
Roman temples appear in every quarter, a Roman theatre
remains nearly perfect, a Roman aqueduct brought water
from the distant mountains, inscriptions of the Roman age,
though in Greek, are found on every public building. A
few of the ancient massive houses, with their stone doors
and stone roofs, yet exist, but they are in a great measure
concealed or built over with the later and more graceful
structures of Greek and Roman origin. Though this city
was nearly three miles in circuit, and abounded in splendid
buildings, its ancient name is lost, and its ancient history
unknown. Its modern name is derived from a princely
Mohammedan family which settled here in the seventh
century. The Emir Beshir Shehab, the last of the_native
rulers of Lebanon, was a member of the family, and so also
was the Emir Saad-cd-Din, who was murdered in the late
massacre at Hasbeiya on the side of Hermon.
Beside Shuhba is a little cup-shaped hill which caught
my eye the moment I entered the city. On ascending I
found it to be the crater of an extinct volcano, deeply cov-
ered with ashes, cinders, and scoria-one of the centres,
doubtless, of that terrific convulsion which in some remote
age heaved up the mountains of Bashan, and spread out the
molten lava which cooled into the rock fields of Argob.
From the summit I had a near and distinct view of the
south-eastern section of Argob. Its features are even
wilder and drearier than those of the northern. The rocks
are higher, the glens deeper and more tortuous. It looks,
38
BASHAN AND ITS GIANT CITIES.
in fact, like the ruins of a country, and yet towns and vil-
lages are thickly studded over that wilderness of rocks.
The mountains which rise behind Shuhba on the east are
terraced half-way up, and their tops are clothed with oak
forests. The vine and the fig flourished here luxuriantly
in the days of Bashan's glory, winter streams then irrigated
and enriched the slopes, and filled the great cisterns in every
city; but the Lord said in his wrath, "I will make waste
mountains and hills, and dry up all their herbs; and I will
make the rivers islands, and I will dry up the pools" (Isa.
xlii. 15), and now I saw that the words of the Lord were
literally and fearfully true.
Sheikh Fares and his brother made all requisite arrange-
ments for our future tour through Bashan. They told us
that so long as we travelled in the Druse country we should
be perfectly safe; no hand, no tongue, would be lifted
against us; a welcome would meet us in every village, and
a cordial wish for our welfare follow us on every path. We
knew this, for we knew that policy as well as the sacred laws
of Oriental hospitality, would restrain the Druses to aid and
protect us to the utmost of their power. They warned us,
however, that some parts of our proposed journey would be
attended with considerable risk. They told us plainly that
the Mohammedans could not be trusted, and that if we at-
tempted to penetrate the Lejah (Argob), all the power of
the Druses might not be sufficient to save us from the fury
of excited fanatics. We attributed these warnings to the
best motives, but we thought them exaggerated. To our
cost we afterwards found that they were only too much
needed. Sheikh Fares gave us one of the most intelligent
and active of his men as guide and companion, he also sup-
plied horses for our servants and baggage, and a Druse es-
cort. Thus equipped, we bade farewell to our kind and
generous host, and set out on our journey southward. For
more than an hour we followed the course of a Roman road
along the western declivity of the mountain range, passing
DRUSE WOMEN WAILING FOR THE DEAD.
39
several old villages on the right and left. At one of these
villages, picturesquely situated in a secluded glen, we saw
a long procession of Druse women near a clump of newly
made graves. They had a strange unearthly look. The
silver horns which they wear upright on their heads, were
nearly two feet long, over these were thrown white veils,
enveloping the whole person, and reaching to the ground,
thus giving them a stature apparently far exceeding that of
mortals. As they marched with stately steps round the
tombs, they sung a wild chant that now echoed through the
whole glen, and now sunk into the mournful cadence of a
death-wail. I asked the meaning of this singular and strik-
ing scene, and was told that eleven of the bravest men in
the village had fallen in the late war, these were their
graves, and now the principal women of Shuhba had come
to comfort and mourn with the wives of the slain; just as,
in the time of our Lord, many of the Jews came from Jeru-
salem "to comfort Martha and Mary concerning their
brother Lazarus" (John xi. 18-31).
Descending a rugged bank into a rich plain, a quarter of
an hour's gallop brought us to Suleim, a small but ancient
town, containing the remains of a beautiful temple, and
some other imposing buildings. A few Druses, who find
ample accommodation in the old houses, gathered round us,
and pressed us to accept their hospitality. We were com-
pelled to decline, and after examining a group of remarkable
subterranean cisterns, we mounted again and turned east-
ward up a picturesque valley to Kunawât. The scenery be-
came richer and grander as we ascended. The highest
peaks of the mountains of Bashan were before us, wooded to
their summits. On each side were terraced slopes, broken
here and there by a dark cliff or rugged brake, and sprink-
led with oaks; in the bottom of the dell below, a tiny stream,
the first we had seen in Bashan, leaped joyously from rock.
to rock, while luxuriant evergreens embraced each other
over its murmuring waters. From the top of every rising
40
BASHAN AND ITS GIANT CITIES.
ground we looked out over jungle and grove to gray ruins,
which here and there reared themselves proudly above.
dense masses of foliage. Diving into the dell by a path
that would try the nerves of a mountain goat, we crossed
the streamlet and wound up a rocky bank, among giant oaks
and thick underwood, to an old building which crowns a
cliff impending over the glen. As we rode up we could ob-
tain a glimpse of its gray walls here and there through dark
openings, but on reaching the broad terrace in front of it,
and especially on entering its spacious court, we were struck
as much with its extent as with the beauty of its architecture.
The doorway is encircled by a broad border of the fruit and
foliage of the vine, entwined with roses and lilies, sculptured
in bold relief, and with equal accuracy of design and delicacy
of execution. The court was surrounded by cloisters sup-
ported by Ionic columns, but nearly all gone now. On the
north side is a projection containing a building at one pe-
riod used as a church, but probably originally intended for
a temple. The ruins of another building, the shrine or
sanctuary of the whole, are strewn over the centre of the
quadrangle. The graceful pillars, and sculptured pediment,
and cornice with its garlands of flowers, lie in shapeless.
heaps beneath the shade of oak trees, and almost concealed
by thorns and thistles. Yes, the curse is visible there, not
so painfully visible perhaps as in Western Palestine, where
only a few stones or heaps of rubbish mark the site of
great cities, yet still visible in crumbling wall and prostrate
column, and in those very brambles that weave a beauteous
mantle round the fallen monuments of man's genius and
power. "Thorns shall come up in her palaces, nettles and
brambles in the fortresses thereof."-They are here.
And other evidences of the curse were there too.
As we
approached the ruin not a living creature was visible. The
air was still, and the silence of death appeared to reign over
glen and mountain. A solitary fox leaped from his den by
the great gateway as our feet crossed the threshold, and
1
ADVENTURE WITH BEDAWIN.
41
took refuge in a neighbouring thicket, but this seemed to be
the only tenant alike of temple and forest. So it seemed, and
so we thought; yet, before we were fifteen minutes among
the ruins, three or four wild-looking heads were observed
peering over a cairn of stones, and the sunbeams glanced
from the barrels of their levelled muskets. We went on
with our examinations, and the wild heads and glittering
barrels went on increasing. Mahmood, our Druse guide,
fortunately saw them, and stepping out from the shade of
the portico, where we had left him with the horses, he
hinted that it would be well for us to keep near him, and
complete our researches as speedily as possible. We soon
mounted, and as we defiled through the forest a score of
fierce Bedawîn, armed with gun and pistol, leaped from
their hiding-places, and lined our path. We were startled,
and began to think that our tour was about to come to a
speedy and unpleasant termination; but Mahmood rode on
in silence, not deigning to turn his head, or direct a single
look to these daring outlaws. We followed in close file, and
as I brought up the rear, I thought it well to give them the
customary salutation, Ullah mâkum, “God be with you."
Not a man of them returned it; and plainly, as if the words
had been written on their scowling faces, I saw that they
were cursing inwardly the stern necessity that kept their
hands off us. These we afterwards learned are the chief
inhabitants of the mountains of Bashan-reckless, lawless,
thieving vagabonds, who live by plunder, and glory in their
success as freebooters. The Druses keep them in check, and
they know well that a terrible vengeance would be taken on
them if they should dare to interfere with any one enjoying
Druse protection. How applicable to this section of Pales-
tine, and to many another, are the words of Isaiah,-"Your
country is desolate, your cities are burned with fire; your
land, strangers devour it in your presence, and it is deso-
late, as overthrown by strangers" (i. 7).
1
42
BASHAN AND ITS GIANT CITIES.
KENATH.
A few minutes' ride brought us to the brow of a hill com-
manding a view of Kunawât. On the left was a deep dark
ravine, and on the sloping ground along its western bank.
lie the ruins of the ancient city. The wall, still in many
places almost perfect, follows the top of the cliffs for nearly
a mile, and then sweeps round in a zigzag course, enclosing
a space about half a mile wide. The general aspect of the
city is very striking-temples, palaces, churches, theatres,
and massive buildings whose original use we cannot tell,
are grouped together in picturesque confusion; while be-
yond the walls, in the glen, on the summits and sides of
wooded peaks, away in the midst of oak forests, are clus-
ters of columns and massive towers, and lofty tombs. The
leading streets are wide and regular, and the roads radiat-
ing from the city gates are unusually numerous and spa-
cious.
While the Israelites were engaged in the conquest of the
country east of the Jordan, Moses tells us that "Nobah went
and took Kenath, and the villages thereof, and called it
Nobah, after his own name (Num. xxxii. 42). Kenath
was now before us. The name was changed into Canatha
by the Greeks; and the Arabs have made it Kunawât.
During the Roman rule it was one of the principal cities east
of the Jordan; and at a very early period it had a large
Christian population, and became the seat of a bishopric.
It appears to have been almost wholly rebuilt about the
commencement of our era, and is mentioned by most of
those Greek and Roman writers who treat of the geography
or history of Syria. At the Saracenic conquest Kenath fell
into the hands of the Mohammedans, and then its doom was
sealed. There are no traces of any lengthened Mohamme-
dan occupation, for there is not a single mosque in the
whole town. The heathen temples were all converted into
churches, and two or three new churches were built; but
""
#
THE RUINS OF KENATH.
43
none of these buildings were ever used as mosques, as such
buildings were in most of the other great cities of Syria.
We spent the afternoon and some hours of the next day
in exploring Kenath. Many of the ruins are beautiful and
interesting. The highest part of the site was the aristo-
cratic quarter. Here is a noble palace, no less than three
temples, and a hippodrome once profusely adorned with
statues. In no other city of Palestine did I see so many
statues as there are here. Unfortunately they are all muti-
lated; but fragments of them-heads, legs, arms, torsos,
with equestrian figures, lions, leopards, and dogs-meet one
on every side. A colossal head of Ashteroth, sadly broken,
lies before a little temple, of which probably it was once the
chief idol. The crescent moon which gave the goddess the
name Carnaim ("two-horned"), is on her brow.
I was
much interested in this fragment, because it is a visible.
illustration of an incidental allusion to this ancient goddess
in the very earliest historic reference to Bashan. We read
in Gen. xiv. 5, that the kings of the East, on their way to
Sodom, "smote the Rephaims in Ashteroth-Karnaim."
May not this be the very city? We found on examination
that the whole area in front of the palace has long ranges of
lofty arched cisterns beneath it, something like the temple
court at Jerusalem. These seemed large enough to supply
the wants of the city during the summer. They were filled
by means of an aqueduct excavated in the bank of the ra-
vine, and connected probably with some spring in the moun-
tains. The tombs of Kenath are similar to those of Pal-
myra-high square towers divided into stories, each story
containing a single chamber, with recesses along the sides
for bodies. About a quarter of a mile west of the city is a
beautiful peripteral temple of the Corinthian order, built on
an artificial platform. Many of the columns have fallen,
and the walls are much shattered; but enough remains to
make this one of the most picturesque ruins in the whole
country.
44
BASHAN AND ITS GIANT CITIES.
Early in the morning we set out to examine the ruins in
the glen, and to scale a high cliff on its opposite bank, where
we had noticed a singular round tower and some heavy
fragments of walls. The glen appears to have been an
ciently laid out as a park or pleasure ground. We found
terraced walks, and little fountains now dry, and pedestals
for statues, a miniature temple, and a rustic opera, whose
benches are hewn in the side of the cliff; a Greek inscrip-
tion in large characters round the front of the stage, tells us
that it was erected by a certain Marcus Lusias, at his own
expense, and given to his fellow-citizens. From the opera
a winding stair-case, hewn in the rock, leads up to the round
tower on the summit of the cliff. We ascended, and were
well repaid alike for our early start and toil. The tower it-
self has little interest; it is thirty yards in circuit, and now
about twenty feet high; the masonry is colossal and of
great antiquity. Beside it are the remains of a castle or
palace, built of bevelled stones of enormous size. The doors
are all of stone, and some of them are ornamented with
panels and fretted mouldings, and wreaths of fruit and
flowers sculptured in high relief. In one door I observed a
place for a massive lock or bar; perhaps one of those
brazen bars" to which allusion is made by the sacred writ-
ers (1 Kings iv. 13). But it was the glorious view which
these ruins command that mainly charmed us. As I sat
down on a great stone on the brow of the ravine, my eye
wandered over one of the most beautiful panoramas I ever
beheld. From many a spot amid the lofty peaks of Leba-
non I had looked on wilder and grander scenery. Standing
on the towering summit of the castle at Palmyra, ruins more
extensive and buildings far more magnificent lay at my feet.
From the Cyclopean walls of the Temple of the Sun at Baal-
bec I saw prouder monuments of man's genius, and more
exquisite memorials of his taste and skill. But never before
had I looked on a scene which nature, and art, and destruc-
tion had so combined to adorn. It was not the wild grand-
1
I
SHEPHERDS LEADING THEIR FLOCKS.
45
eur of Lebanon, with beetling cliff and snow-capped peak;
it was not the flat and featureless Baalbec, with its Cyclo-
pean walls and unrivalled columns; it was not the blasted
desolation of Palmyra, where white ruins are thickly strewn
over a white plain. Here were hill and dale, wooded slopes
and wild secluded glens, frowning cliffs and battlemented.
heights, moss-grown ruins and groups of tapering columns
springing up from the dense foliage of the oaks of Bashan.
Hitherto I had been struck with the nakedness of Syrian
ruins. They are half-buried in dust, or they are strewn over
mounds of rubbish, or they lie prostrate on the bare gravelly
soil; and, though the shafts are graceful, the capitals chaste,
the fretwork of frieze and cornice rich, yet, as pictures, they
contrast poorly with the ivy-mantled abbeys of England,
and the nature-clothed castles of the Rhine. Amid the hills
of Bashan, however, the scene is changed. The fresh fo-
liage hides defects, and enhances the beauty of stately
portico and massive wall, while luxuriant creepers twine
round the pillars, and wreathe the volutes of the capitals
with garlands.
SHEPHERDS LEADING THEIR FLOCKS.
As we sat and looked, almost spell-bound, the silent hill-
sides around us were in a moment filled with life and sound.
The shepherds led their flocks forth from the gates of the
city. They were in full view, and we watched them and
listened to them with no little interest. Thousands of sheep
and goats were there, grouped in dense, confused masses.
The shepherds stood together until all came out. Then
they separated, each shepherd taking a different path, and
uttering as he advanced a shrill peculiar call. The sheep
heard them. At first the masses swayed and moved, as if
shaken by some internal convulsion; then points struck out
in the direction taken by the shepherds; these became long-
er and longer until the confused masses were resolved into
long, living streams, flowing after their leaders. Such a
·
46
BASHAN AND ITS GIANT CITIES.
sight was not new to me, still it had lost none of its interest.
It was perhaps one of the most vivid illustrations which
human eyes could witness of that beautiful discourse of our
Lord recorded by John-" And the sheep hear the shop-
herd's voice: and he calleth his own sheep by name, and
leadeth them out, and when he putteth forth his own sheep,
he goeth before them, and the sheep follow him; for they
know his voice. And a stranger will they not follow: for
they know not the voice of strangers" (x. 3-5).
The shepherds themselves had none of that peaceful and
placid aspect which is generally associated with pastoral
life and habits. They looked more like warriors marching
to the battle-field-a long gun slung from the shoulder, a
dagger and heavy pistols in the belt, a light battle-axe or
iron-headed club in the hand. Such were their equipments;
and their fierce flashing eyes and scowling countenances
showed but too plainly that they were prepared to use
their weapons at any moment. They were all Arabs-
not the true sons of the desert, but a mongrel race living in
the mountains, and acting as shepherds to the Druses while
feeding their own flocks. Their costume is different from that
of the Druses, and almost the same as that of the desert
Arabs-a coarse shirt of blue calico bound round the waist
by a leathern girdle, a loose robe of goats' hair, and a hand-
kerchief thrown over the head and fastened by a fillet of
camels' hair-such is their whole costume, and it is filthy
besides, and generally in rags.
THE DRUSES.
From Kunawât we saw two large deserted villages higher
up the mountains, and a large deserted town below on the
borders of the plain. These we had not time to visit. The
hospitable Druses repeatedly urged us to spend another day
with them; and we felt a strong inclination to linger in this
old city, for there was much to interest us, not in the ruins
merely, but likewise in the modern inhabitants. When
•
THE DRUSES.
47
squatting in the evening in the large reception room of the
sheikh's house we observed with some surprise that though
it was often crowded with Druses, old and young, not a
man of them tasted coffee or tobacco except Mahmood.
They all belonged to the order of Ukala, or “initiated ;" and
they are Nazirites in the widest sense. Kunawât, in fact, is
almost a holy city for the Druses; their great religious chief
resides here, and this place is consequently the centre of power
and intrigue. They are a remarkable people. Their relig-
ion is a mystery; their manners are simple and patriarchal;
their union and courage are proverbial; and though small
in number they form the most powerful party in Syria.
Whenever danger threatens, or whenever they find it ex-
pedient to resist the demands or exactions of the Porte,
they congregate in the Haurân, and no force has ever been
found sufficient to dislodge or subdue them. Here they de-
fied Ibrahim Pasha, and destroyed the flower of the Egyp-
tian army; here they have once and again defeated the
Turkish troops, and driven them back with disgrace to the
very walls of Damascus. Physically they are the finest
race in Western Asia-tall, stalwart, hardy mountaineers.
Accustomed from childhood to vigorous exercise, and trained
in athletic sports and the use of arms, they form a body of
brave and daring "irregulars" such as the world could
scarcely match. But the grand secret of their power is
their union. They act together as one man. Brotherly
union in peace and war, in prosperity and adversity, is the
chief article of their religious creed. As regards religion
they are divided into two classes, the Initiated and the Ig-
norant. With the former the rites, ceremonies, and doc-
trines remain a profound secret. The holy books are pre-
served and read by them alone. They assemble in chapels
every Thursday evening, refusing admission to all others.
What they do then and there is unknown; but there is rea-
son to believe that these meetings are quite as much of a
political as a religious character.
3
48
BASHAN AND ITS GIANT CITIES.
The Druse sheikhs form a hereditary nobility, and pre-
serve with great tenacity all the pride and state of their
order. They receive and entertain travellers with profuse
hospitality, and no compensation in money can be offered
to them. To strangers, under ordinary circumstances, they
are obliging, communicative, and faithful. In time of
peace
they are industrious and courteous; but in war they are
noted alike for daring courage and unsparing ferocity.
When among this strange and primitive people in Bashan,
I felt at once that I was out of the beaten track of tourists,
where one can pitch his tent, picket his horses, cook his
provisions, and march again, caring for nobody, and nobody
caring for him. Here all is different. We are among a
people of patriarchal manners and genuine patriarchal hos-
pitality. We were looked on and treated as welcome guests.
We could not pass town or village without being entreated
to accept hospitality. "Will not my lord descend while
his servants prepare a little food?" is the urgent language
of every village sheikh. The coffee is always on the hearth;
a kid or lamb-representative of the old "fatted calf”—is
at hand, and can be "got ready" with all the despatch of
ancient days. Food for servants, "provender" for horses,
accommodation for all, are given as matters of course.
In
travelling through Bashan one fancies himself carried back
to the days when the patriarchs sat in their tent-doors,
ready to welcome every visitor and hail every passer-by.
III.
"And Bashan and Carmel shake off their fruits."
This text was constantly in my mind while I wandered
through Bashan. In riding down from the ruins of Kenath,
among the mountains, to the ruins of Suweideh at their
base, it struck me that the beautiful words in which Cow-
FULFILMENT OF PROPHECY.
49
per describes modern Sicily, are strikingly descriptive of
modern Palestine.
"Alas for Sicily! rude fragments now
Lie scattered where the shapely column stood.
Her palaces are dust. In all her streets
The voice of singing, and the sprightly chord
Are silent. Revelry, and dance, and show
Suffer a syncope and solemn pause;
While God performs upon the trembling stage
Of his own works his dreadful part alone."
We might begin, "Alas for Palestine !" and go on through
the whole passage; for Palestine's palaces are dust, her
stately columns fallen, her streets silent, her fields desolate,
while God alone performs his dreadful part, fulfilling to the
very letter the prophetic curses pronounced upon the land
long, long centuries ago.
WONDERFUL FULFILMENT OF PROPHECY.
We rode along the line of the Roman road, at least as
closely as branches of the great old oaks, and jungles of
thorns and bushes, would permit; for "the highways lie
waste" (Isa. xxxiii. 8). Every opening to the right and left
revealed ruins ;- -now a tomb in a quiet nook; now a temple
in a lonely forest glade; now a shapeless and nameless heap
of stones and fallen columns; and now, through a long
green vista, the shattered walls and towers of an ancient
city. The country is filled with ruins. In every direction
to which the eye turns, in every spot on which it rests, ruins
are visible-so truly, so wonderfully have the prophecies.
been fulfilled: "I will destroy your high places, and bring
your sanctuaries unto desolation" (Lev. xxvi. 30).
palaces shall be forsaken" (Isa. xxxii. 14). "I will make
your cities waste. The land shall be utterly spoiled" (Isa.
xxiv. 3). Many other ruins, doubtless, lie concealed among
the forests, buried beneath giant oaks, or shrouded by lux-
uriant brambles. Judging by the "thorns and thistles "
which hem in every path, and half conceal every ruin, one
"The
50
BASHAN AND ITS GIANT CITIES.
would suppose that Bashan had received a double portion
of the curse.
The mountains of Bashan, though not generally very
steep, are rugged and rocky; yet everywhere on their sides.
I saw the remains of old terraces-along every slope, up
every bank, from the bottom of the deepest glen, where the
oleander bends over the tiny streamlet, to the highest peak
on which the clouds of heaven sleep, cradled on winter
snows. These tell of former toil and industry; and so do
the heaps of loose stones that have been collected off the
soil, and piled up in the corners of the little fields. In the
days of Bashan's glory, fig-trees, and olives, and pomegran-
ates, were ranged along those terraces; and vines hung
down in rich festoons over their broken walls.
But now
Bashan has shaken off its fruits. "For a nation is come
up upon my land, strong, and without number. He hath
laid my vine waste, and barked my fig-tree; he hath made
it clean bare, and cast it away. The field is wasted, the
land mourneth. The new wine is dried up, the oil lan-
guisheth. The vine is dried up, the fig-tree languisheth ;
the pomegranate-tree, the palm-tree also, and the apple-tree;
even all the trees of the field are withered; because joy is
withered away from the sons of men (Joel i. 6-12).
""
The scenery is still rich. It is rich in the foliage of the
evergreen oak-the "oak of Bashan ;" rich in numbers of
evergreen shrubs; rich in green pastures. It is picturesque
too, and occasionally even grand; for the glens are deep and
winding, and the outlines of the intervening ridges varied
with many a dark cliff and wooded bank. The whole
mountain range is of volcanic origin, and the peaks shoot
up, conical or cup-shaped, forming long serried lines. One
thing struck me as peculiar. The rocks are black, the soil
is black, the buildings are all black. It might be thought
that the landscape would thus have a gloomy aspect; and
it would have, were it not for the fresh green grass of the
glades and meadows, and the brilliant foliage of the oak
PROPHECY CHANGED TO HISTORY.
51
forests, which often glitter beneath the blaze of sunshine
like forests of prisms.
I confess it was with feelings of awe I looked from time to
⚫time out over those desolate, but still beautiful slopes, to
that more desolate plain. I knew what caused the desola-
tion. The silence, too, awed me yet more, for it was pro-
found. The voice of nature itself was hushed, and not a
leaf in the forest rustled. There is always something cheer-
ful, something reviving to the flagging spirit, in the unceas-
ing murmur of a great city, now rising and now falling on
the breeze, as one approaches it or passes by; and in the
continuous hum of a rural scene, where the call of the herd,
and the whistle of the ploughman, and the roll of the wag-
gon, and the bleatings of the flock, and the lowing of the
kine, melt into one of nature's choruses. Here cities stud-
ded the whole country, but the stillness of death reigned in
them; there was no ploughman in the field, no shepherd on
the hill-side, no flock on the pasture, no waggon, no way-
farer on the road. Yet there was a time when the land
teemed with an industrious, a bustling, and a joyous popu-
lation. At that time prophets wrote: "Your highways
shall be desolate" (Lev. xxvi. 22). "The wayfaring man
ceaseth. The earth mourneth and languisheth” (Isa.
xxxiii. 8). "The land shall be utterly emptied and utterly
spoiled; for the Lord hath spoken this word. Therefore
hath the curse devoured the land. Therefore the inhabit-
ants of the land are consumed, and few men left. Every
house is shut up. The mirth of the land is gone. In the
city is left desolation, and the gate is smitten with de-
struction” (Isa. xxiv. 3-12). Many of the people of those
days, doubtless, thought the prophets were but gloomy
dreamers. Just as many in our own day regard their writ-
ings as gorgeous fancy pictures of Eastern poets; but with
my own eyes I saw that time has changed every prediction
into a historic fact. I saw now, and I saw at every step
through Bashan, that the visions of the prophets were not
52
BASHAN AND ITS GIANT CITIES.
1
delusions; that they were not even, as some modern critics
suppose, highly wrought figures, intended perhaps to fore-
shadow in faint outline a few leading facts of the country's
future story. I saw that they were, one and all, graphic
and detailed descriptions of real events, which the Divine
Spirit opened up to the prophet's eye through the long
vista of ages.
The language is, doubtless, beautiful, the
style is poetic, and gorgeous Eastern imagery is often
employed to give sublimity to the visions of the seer, and
to the words of the Lord; but this does not take away one
iota from their truth, nor does it detract in the slightest
degree from their graphic power. Were the same holy
men inspired now by the same Divine Spirit to describe
the actual state of Palestine, they could not possibly select
language more appropriate or more graphic than that found
in their own predictions written thousands of years ago.
This is no vague statement made at random, or penned for
effect. God forbid I should ever pen a single line rashly or
thoughtlessly on such a topic. It is the result of years of
study and years of travel. It is the result of a calm and
thorough comparison of each prophecy of Scripture regard-
ing Palestine's history and doom with its fulfilment, upon
the spot. I had no preconceived theory of prophetic in-
terpretation to defend. My mind was not biassed by a
false faith in literality on the one side, nor by a fatal scep-
ticism regarding prophetic reality on the other. Oppor-
tunities were afforded me of examining evidence, of test-
ing witnesses, of seeing with my own eyes the truth or
the falsehood of Bible predictions. I embraced these op-
portunities, as God gave them, and to the utmost of my
power and the best of my ability. I examined deliberately,
cautiously, and, I believe, conscientiously. My examina-
tions extended over all Palestine, and over most other Bible
lands; and now I thank God that, with the fullest and
deepest conviction-conviction that all the ingenuity of
modern criticism, and all the plausibility of modern scien-
DESTRUCTION OF TREES.
53
tific scepticism can never overthrow, could never shake-I
can take up and re-echo the grand, the cheering statement
of our blessed Lord, and proclaim my belief before the
world, that "Till heaven and earth pass, one jot or one
tittle shall in no wise pass from the Law, till all be ful-
filled."
I observed around Kenath, and especially in the thickest
parts of the forest on the way to Suweideh, that many of
the largest and finest oak trees were burned almost through
near the ground, and that a vast number of huge trunks
were lying black and charred among the stones and brush-
wood. I wondered at what appeared to be a piece of wan-
ton and toilsome destruction, and I asked Mahmood if he
could explain it.
"The Bedawîn do it," he replied. "They make large
quantities of charcoal for the Damascus market, as well as
for home use; and that they may get more easily at the
branches, which are the only parts of the tree used, they
kindle a fire round the roots of the largest oaks, burn them
deeply, and then the first blast of wind blows them over,
and the boughs are chopped off with little axes."
"But," I said, "in this way they destroy vast quantities
of splendid timber."
66
True; but they do not care. All they want is a present
supply, and they try to get it in the easiest way possible."
66
"They will soon make your mountains as bare as Jebel
esh-Sheikh, and where will you go for firewood and char-
coal then? You are fools to permit such needless waste
and destruction."
“O my lord ?” said Mahmood—and there was a degree
of solemnity and pathos both in his tone and in his words-
“O my lord! it is you Franks alone who have wisdom to
look to the future, and power to provide for it. We! what
can we do in this unhappy country? We are all wander-
ers-here to-day, away to-morrow. Should we attempt to
preserve these oaks, or to plant vineyards and olives, or to
54
BASHAN AND ITS GIANT CITIES.
spend labour and money on fields or houses, we would only
be working out our own ruin. The Bedawîn would be at-
tracted in clouds round the tempting fruit; and the Turks
would come, drive us out with their cannon, and seize our
whole property. No, no! We can have no permanent in-
terest in the ground. We can only hold it as we have got
it, by the sword; and the poorer it looks, the less will our
enemies covet it.'
""
It was a sad picture, and, unfortunately, a true one. By
such mad acts, and by still more wanton destruction in
times of war, and of party and family struggles, fruit-trees
and forests have been almost annihilated in Palestine. And
would it not seem as if the old prophets had been able to
look down through the mists of long centuries, and to see
the progress and the effects of this very mode of ruin and
desolation, clearly as I saw it in Bashan? Isaiah thus
wrote: The defenced city shall be desolate, and the habita-
tion-forsaken, and left like a wilderness: there shall the calf
feed, and there shall he lie down, and consume the branches
thereof. When the boughs thereof are withered they shall
be broken off; the women come and set them on fire; for
it is a people of no understanding " (Isa. xxvii. 10, 11).
Descending from Kenath, I saw, about a mile to the right,
the deserted town of Atyl. Burckhardt and one or two
others visited it, but I was compelled from want of time to
pass it by. It contains some fine buildings, among which
are two beautiful temples nearly perfect. One of them was
built in the fourteenth year of the Emperor Antonine (A.D.
150), as a Greek inscription tells us. Like Kenath, this
city was in a great measure rebuilt during the Roman age,
and consequently there are not many of the very ancient
massive houses now remaining. Further down on the plain
I saw Rimeh and Welgha, two deserted towns. Every
view we got in Bashan was an ocular demonstration of the
literal fulfilment of the curse pronounced on the land by
Moses, more than three thousand years ago: "If ye will
66
*
RUINS OF SUWEIDEH.
not hearken unto me, and will not do all these command-
ments.. I will scatter you among the heathen ;_and
your land shall be desolate, and your cities waste Lev.
xxvi. 14, 33).
THE RUINS OF SUWEIDEN.
55
39
Emerging from the oak forests we found ourselves on a
low bare ridge which juts out from the mountains some dis-
tance into the plain. It is divided down the centre by a
deep rocky ravine, through which a winter torrent flows.
The portion of this ridge south of the ravine is covered with
the ruins of Suweideh. We were riding up to them when
my attention was attracted by a singular monument stand-
ing alone on a commanding site, a few hundred yards north
of the city. It is a square tower, about thirty feet high.
The sides are ornamented with Doric semi-columns support-
ing a plain cornice, and between them, on panels, are
shields, helmets, and trophies of arms sculptured in relief.
A legend, inscribed in Greek and Palmyrene, states that
“Odainatus, son of Annelos, built this monument to
Chamrate, his wife." Few and simple are the words.
The story of Chamrate is unknown. What were her pri-
vate virtues, or public services, we cannot tell. Strange
that this monument should stand as the tribute of a hus-
band's admiration and love, when the histories of husband,
wife, and native city have passed away for long centuries!
It is worthy of note that Odainatus was the name of the
celebrated husband of the still more celebrated Zenobia.
The Palmyrene inscription on the monument would seem to
indicate that its founder was a native of the desert city.
Perhaps the great Odainatus himself, during his warlike
expedition into Syria, may have thus celebrated the vir-
tues of a former wife.
Crossing the ravine by a Roman bridge, we rode up to
Suweideh, and under the guidance of the sheikh's son, a
fine manly boy of some fourteen years, splendidly dressed
56
BASHAN AND ITS GIANT CITIES.
in a scarlet robe, and armed with silver-hilted sword and
dagger, we proceeded to examine in detail the wide-spread
ruins We visited a Corinthian peristyle; a Roman gate-
way at the end of a straight street, nearly a mile in length,
and paved throughout; the ruins of a temple of the age of
Trajan; the remains of a very large church, within whose
crumbling walls is the modern Christian burying-ground; a
mosque, the roof of which was once supported on marble
columns, doubtless rifled from an old church, or a still older
temple. Then we inspected the ruins of a fountain, of an
opera, and of a large theatre; and we saw two immense
reservoirs, anciently supplied by aqueducts which brought
water from the neighbouring mountains.
Verily the destroyer has been long at work in this old
city! Here are ruins heaped upon the top of ruins; temples
transformed into churches; churches again transformed into
mosques, and mosques now dreary and desolate. Inscriptions
were here, side by side, recording each transformation, and
showing how the same building was dedicated first to Jove,
then to St. George, and finally to Mohammed. We walked.
on after our little guide, winding among vast heaps of ruins-
ruins, nothing but ruins, and desolation, and rent walls, and
fallen columns. The modern dwellings are just the lower
stories of the ancient houses, which have been cleared out
and occupied; and the whole site has become so deeply
covered with fallen structures, that the people seem, for
the most part, to be residing in caves.
Thirty or forty boys, with a fair sprinkling of men, fol-
lowed us, shouting and dancing in high glee at the strange
figures of the Franks, the first, probably, that most of them.
had seen. We should have been seriously incommoded by
their attentions, had it not been for the threats of our manly
little guide, accompanied now and then by a volley of stones
at the boys who ventured too near. As we passed the
houses, too, and the cavern-like court-yards, portly women
and coy girls peeped at us with one eye over the corners of
ANCIENT PROSPERITY.
57
their long white veils, and laughingly pointed out to each
other some wondrous oddity about our dress. Our hats-
or kettles, as they persisted in calling them-attracted most
attention. In fact, we created among the quiet people of
Suweideh quite as great a sensation as a party of Arabs
with their bronzed faces, flame-coloured turbans, and flow-
ing robes would do in Cheapside or in the High Street of
Edinburgh.
*
No city in Bashan-not even Bozrah, its Roman capital-
surpasses Suweideh in the extent of its ruins; and yet,
strange to say, its ancient name is unknown, and there is no
mention of it in history previous to the Crusades. It seems
to have suffered more from time and from the chances of
war than any other city in the whole country. Inscriptions
found on its monuments show that it was a flourishing city
long before the conquest of Bashan by the Romans in A.D.
105, and that it carried on an extensive trade with Egypt and
other countries down to the middle of the fourth century.
William of Tyre, the historián of the Crusades, says of the
region round the city: "It is rich in the choicest products
of nature,-wine, corn, and oil; the climate is salubrious
and the air pure." So late, therefore, as the twelfth century
the country was prosperous and the city populous.
We
can see the evidence of this still. The hill-sides are every-
where terraced, and plain and mountain alike bear the
marks of former careful cultivation. The terraces are ad-
mirably fitted for the growth of the vine, the fig, and the
olive; and the rich plain even now bears crops of grain
whose luxuriance is proverbial. Nowhere in Bashan, no-
where in all Syria, did I see such convincing evidences of
the surpassing richness and vast resources of the soil, as
around Suweideh. One would suppose that Moses had his
eye upon it when he penned these words-words equally
beautiful and true: "The Lord thy God bringeth thee into
a good land, a land of brooks of water, of fountains and
depths that spring out of the valleys and hills; a land of
58
BASHAN AND ITS GIANT CITIES.
wheat, and barley, and vines, and fig trees, and pomegran
ates; a land of oil olive, and honey; a land wherein thou
shalt eat bread without scarceness, thou shalt not lack any-
thing in it" (Deut. viii. 7-9).
And one would suppose, too, looking at the Bible and
looking at the land-comparing prophetic description with
authentic history and present reality-that the prophets
must surely have read the long and sad history of Palestine
as I read it, and that they must surely have seen the pres-
ent utter ruin and terrible desolation of this part of it as I
saw it, and that they must surely have heard from the lips.
of the people the story of their oppression and their dangers
as I heard it, before they could possibly have written such
graphic words as these: "I will make your cities waste,
and bring your sanctuaries unto desolation. I will bring
the land into desolation; and your enemies which dwell
therein shall be astonished at it (Lev. xxvi. 31, 32).
“The generation to come of your children that shall rise
up after you, and the stranger that shall come from a far
land, shall say, when they see the plagues of that land, and
the sicknesses which the Lord hath laid upon it, Wherefore
hath the Lord done thus unto this land? what meaneth the
heat of this great anger?" (Deut. xxix. 22, 24).
""
These are only a few, a very few, of multitudes of similar
predictions. And, let it be observed, the predictions are not
made in mere general terms, capable of a wide rendering and
a somewhat vague reference. They are special, graphic,
and detailed; and their fulfilment is evident as it is com-
plete. The fields are waste, the roads deserted, the cities
abandoned, the houses without inhabitants, the sanctuaries
desecrated, the vineyards, orchards, and groves destroyed.
And the land is desolated by the "violence" and the folly
"of all them that dwelt therein,"-of the Turks, its nominal
owners, and of the Arabs, its periodical "spoilers," who
come up "upon all high places through the wilderness."
"Every one that passeth by it is astonished" at its deserted
HOSPITALITY OF A DRUSE CHIEF..
59
cities and waste fields; and "the stranger that comes from
a far country," the thoughtful student of history, the
thoughtful observer, the thoughtful reader of his Bible,-
cannot refrain from exclaiming, as he rides through Bashan,
Wherefore hath the Lord done this unto this land?”
The noble Druse chief of Suweideh, Sheikh Waked el-
Hamdân, was absent on our arrival, but in the evening he
returned, and entertained us with a hospitality that would
have done honor to the patriarch Job, who is represented,
by a local tradition, as having been the first prince of Su-
weideh. When the evening banquet was over, the whole
elders of the town crowded into the large reception room of
Sheikh Wâked, and squatted in concentric circles round the
blazing fire. We occupied the seat of honour, on a raised
dais, beside the sheikh. Rings of white turbans, the distin-
guishing head-dress of the Druses, appeared round and
round us, here and there broken by the crimson kefiyeh of
a Bedawy, or the black kerchief of a Christian. An Egyp-
tian sat by the fire preparing and distributing coffee, while
an Abyssinian slave behind him pounded the fragrant berries
in a huge oak mortar, beating time with the pestle, which
bore some resemblance, in form and size, to an Indian war-
club. Each guest, on drinking, rose to his knee, touched
forehead and lips with his right hand, and bowed to the
sheikh; then, on sitting down again, he made another similar.
salâm, intended for the rest of the company, and those near
him returned it, with a muttered prayer that the refreshment
might do him good. It was an interesting scene, and was
probably not unlike the receptions of guests in the mansion
of Job and in the tents of Abraham.
We talked of politics, of war, and of poetry; and most of
the company took part in the conversation with a respect-
ful propriety and a good sense that surprised me.
The po-
etry of the Arabs has some striking peculiarities. Their
poets often describe the virtues and achievements of distin-
guished men in short stanzas, containing two or four mea-
60
BASHAN AND ITS GIANT CITIES.
sures; and the beauty of the rhythm and boldness of the
imagery are sometimes of a high order. There is a species
of composition which they often try, and in which many are
adepts. It is difficult for those who are ignorant of the pe-
culiar structure of the Arabic language to understand its na-
ture. A word is taken, and, by changing its form, a series of
distinct acts is described, each act being expressed by a differ-
ent inflexion of the root. One word will thus occur six, eight,
or ten times in a stanza, with the addition of a prefix or suffix,
or the insertion of an intermediate letter, or an alteration in
a vowel point; and each change conveys a new and definite
meaning. The warlike achievements of a favorite leader
are not unfrequently graphically described in this manner
by skilful and varied inflexions of his own name. The He-
brew scholar will find something analogous to this in Ja-
cob's play upon the word Gilead, in Genesis xxxi. 46-48;
but the best examples of the kind in Scripture are given in
Hosea, chapters i. and ii., on the word Jezreel.
The morning we left Suweideh dawned gloomy and
threatening. A heavy thunder-storm had passed over the
place during the night. Never before in Syria had I seen
rain heavier or lightning more vivid. For an hour or more
the flashes seemed to form one continuous stream, lighting
up the ruins of the city, and the glens and rocks of the
neighbouring mountains with an intense though lurid blaze.
In the morning, dark, lowering clouds still swept along the
surface of the ground, and enveloped the whole mountains.
The air was cold, and the smart showers which fell at inter-
vals made it feel still colder; but as the wind was high, and
veering round to the north, we knew the day would be fine;
for the Scripture statement still holds good in Scripture
lands,-"Fair weather cometh out of the north" (Job
xxxvii. 22).
A few minutes' ride down the rocky slope of the ridge on
which Suweideh stands brought us into the plain of Bashan,
properly so called, I had heard much of its richness. I
((
THE HIGHWAYS ARE DESOLATE."
61
"
had heard of the wonderful productiveness of that deep,
black, loamy soil, of the luxuriance of its grass, and of its
teeming crops of grain; but up to the moment I first set
foot on it, I thought-indeed I was fully persuaded—that a
large amount of exaggeration must run through all those
glowing descriptions. Now I saw that there had been no
exaggeration, and that no part of Palestine could be com-
pared in fertility to the plain of Bashan. No wonder the
pastoral tribes of Reuben, Gad, and Manasseh made choice
of this noble country, preferring its wooded hills and grassy
plains to the comparatively bleak and bare range west of
the Jordan, visible from the heights of Moab. The plain
extended in one unbroken expanse, flat as the surface of a
lake, for fifty miles, to the base of Hermon. Little hills—
some conical, some cup-shaped-rise at intervals like isl
ands, and over their surface, and sometimes round their
bases, are scattered fragments of porous lava, intermixed
with basalt of a firmer texture; but the rest of the soil is
entirely free from stones. On or beside these tells many of
the ancient towns stand; and their black walls, houses, and
towers, shattered by time and the horrors of war, often look
in the distance like natural cliffs.
The Roman road which anciently connected Damascus
and Bostra, passing close to some of the chief cities of Ba-
shan, lay a few hundred yards to the right of our path. Its
line can still be traced,-indeed the old pavement is in many
places quite perfect, as much so as any part of the Appian
way; and yet, in a ride of some twenty miles this day along
that route, we did not meet, we did not see, a single human
being. The "way-faring man" has "ceased" here, and
"the highways are desolate." Before reaching the town of
Ary, about eight miles from Suweideh, we passed two vil-
lages, and we saw four others a little way up the mountain-
side, on the left,—all of which contain a few families of
Druses; while away on the plain, to the right, no less than
five towns were in view in one moment, entirely deserted.
62
BASHAN AND ITS GIANT CITIES.
The words of Jeremiah are surely fulfilled: "I beheld, and,
lo, there was no man. I beheld, and, lo, the fruitful
place was a wilderness, and all the cities thereof were
broken down at the presence of the Lord, and by his fierce
anger" (iv. 25, 26).
The town of Ary stands on a rocky tell. It is about a
mile in circuit; but there are no buildings of any import-
ance; nor are there any traces of wealth or architectural
beauty. It appears to have been a plain country town,
which became the seat of a bishopric about the fourth cen-
tury, as we learn from the old ecclesiastical records.
We had ascended the hill-side, and were quietly occupied
in examining the ruins of what seemed to have been a
church, when a party of the inhabitants came up, headed by
their sheikh, and invited us to accept of their hospitality.
They would take no excuse. It would be a disgrace to
their village if they would permit us to pass; it would be
an insult to their chief if we should attempt it. They en-
treated as Abraham would have done at his tent-door, or
Lot at the gate of Sodom. We entered the sheikh's house;
and while coffee was being prepared, the whole household—
in fact a great part of the town-got into a state of commo-
tion. A woman came into the apartment with a large cop-
per vessel in her hand, took “a measure" of flour out of
a huge earthen jar in the corner, poured on water, and com-
menced the process of "kneading unleavened cakes." A
moment afterwards we heard a confused noise of cackling
and screaming; then a flock of hens flew in terror past the
open door, followed by a troop of women and boys in full
chase. We saw they had resolved to make us a feast."
The flocks were at a distance, and it would take hours to
obtain a lamb or a kid,-fowls must therefore serve as a
substitute. We were fully aware of the despatch of Arab
cooks, and that in this respect they were not surpassed even
by the patriarchal; but our time was too precious to be
wasted in mere-ceremony, however interesting. Firmly,
66
MAGNIFICENT PANORAMA.
63
but respectfully, we assured our worthy host that we must.
proceed at once to Bozrah. To the evident regret of the
stately sheikh, and the unbounded astonishment of crowds
of his people, who gathered round us, and who could not
understand how it was possible for any polite or respecta-
ble person to decline proffered hospitality, we mounted our
horses and rode off.
Our route lay near the base of the mountains of Bashan,
which rose up in dark frowning masses on our left, most of
their conical peaks wooded to the summit. Kuleib, the
highest of the whole range, was in full view, its top covered.
with snow. Low spurs here shot far out into the plain,
having between them rich vales covered with luxuriant
pastures. Through the midst of each vale, between high
alluvial banks, now flowed a tiny winter stream. Passing
the villages of Mujeimir and Wetr, we gained the crest of a
ridge commanding a noble view over the plain southward.
We drew bridle for a few minutes, to examine more mi-
nutely this magnificent panorama. On the west, south, and
south-east, the plain was unbounded. Every section of it
to which we turned our eyes was thickly dotted with large
towns and villages; yet, with the exception of a few spots.
near us, there was no cultivation, and we did not see a
single tree or bush on that vast expanse. Mahmood pointed
out the more important cities. Due southward, some five
miles distant, a broad black belt extended far across the
green plain; in the midst of it rose the massive towers and
battlements of a great castle; while other towers and taper-
ing minarets shot up here and there. That was Bozrah,
the ancient stronghold of Bashan, the capital of the Roman
province, and the first city in Syria captured by the Sara-
cens. We saw Jemurrin, Keires, Burd, Ghusam, and a host
of others on the right and left-all deserted. Low in a val-
ley, on the sout-east, lay the wide-spread ruins and ancient.
colossal houses of Kerioth, one of the old cities of the plain
of Moab (Jer. xlviii. 24); while away beyond it, on the hor-
64
I
BASHAN AND ITS GIANT CITIES.
izon, rose a graceful conical hill, crowned with the castle of
Salcah, which Joshua mentions as the eastern limit of
Bashan, and of the kingdom of the giant Og (Josh. xiii.
11, 12).
This southern section of Bashan is richer in historic and
sacred associations than the northern. I looked at it now
spread out before me with feelings such as I cannot de-
scribe. Those large deserted cities, that noble but desolate
plain, the whole history of the country for four thousand
years, from the Rephaim down to the Osmanlis, is written
there. The massive dwellings show the simple style and pon-
derous workmanship of Giant architects. Jewish masonry
and names; Greek inscriptions and temples; Roman roads;
Christian churches; Saracenic mosques; Turkish desola-
tions;-all, all are there; and all alike are illustrations of
the accuracy and confirmations of the truth of the BIBLE.
IV.
BOZRAH.
"And judgment is come . . . . . upon Bozrah."-JER. xlviii. 24.
I spent three days at Bozrah. There is much to be seen
there,—much of Scriptural, and still more of historical and
antiquarian interest; and I tried to see it all. Bozrah was a
strong city, as its name implies-Bozrah, "fortress,"-and
a magnificent city; and numerous vestiges of its ancient
strength and magnificence remain to this day. Its ruins
are nearly five miles in circuit; its walls are lofty and mas-
sive; and its castle is one of the largest and strongest for-
tresses in Syria. Among the ruins I saw two theatres, six
temples, and ten or twelve churches and mosques; besides
palaces, baths, fountains, aqueducts, triumphal arches, and
other structures almost without number. The old Bozrites
must have been men of great taste and enterprise as well as
BEDAWIN ROBBERS.
65
wealth. Some of the buildings I saw there would grace
the proudest capital of modern Europe.
It is a work of no little toil to explore Bozrah. The
streets are mostly covered, and in some places completely
blocked up, with fallen buildings and heaps of rubbish.
Over these I had to climb, risking my limbs among loose
stones. The principal structures, too, are so much encum-
bered with broken columns and the piled-up ruins of roofs
and pediments, that one has great difficulty in getting at
them, and discovering their points of interest or beauty. In
trying to copy a Greek inscription over the door of a church,
I clambered to the top of a wall. My weight caused it to
topple over, and it fell with a terrible crash. It was only
by a sudden and hazardous leap I escaped, and barely es-
caped, being buried beneath it. And we were hourly ex-
posed to danger of another and still more pressing kind.
Bozrah had once a population of a hundred thousand souls
and more; when I was there its whole inhabitants comprised
just twenty families! These lived huddled together in the
lower stories of some very ancient houses near the castle.
The rest of the city is completely desolate. The fountains
near the city, and the rich pastures which encircle them, at-
tract wandering Bedawîn,-outcasts from the larger tribes,
and notorious thieves and brigands. These come up from
the desert with a few goats, sheep, and donkeys, and per-
haps a horse; and they lurk, gipsy-like, about the fountains.
and among the ruins of the large outlying towns of Bashan,
watching every opportunity to plunder an unguarded cara-
van or strip (Luke x. 30) an unwary traveller, or steal a
stray camel. The whole environs of Bozrah are infested
with them, owing to the extent of the ruins and the num-
bers of wells and springs in and around them. Our arrival,
numbers, and equipments had been carefully noted; and
armed men lay in wait, as we soon discovered, at various
places, in the hope of entrapping and plundering some strag-
gler. Once, indeed, a bold attempt was made by their com-
66
BASHAN AND ITS GIANT CITIES.
$
bined forces to carry off our whole party. We had fortu-
nately taken the precaution on our arrival to engage the
brother of the sheikh as guide and guard during our stay;
and to this arrangement, joined to the fear of the Druse
escort, we owed our safety. So true has time made the
words of Jeremiah: "The spoilers are come upon all high
places through the wilderness....no flesh shall have peace"
(Jer. xii. 12). The words of Ezekiel, too, are strikingly
applicable to the present state of Bozrah: "Thus saith the
Lord God of the land of Israel; They shall eat their
bread with carefulness, and drink their water with aston-
ishment, that their land may be desolate from all that is
therein, because of the violence of all them that dwell there-
in. And the cities that are inhabited shall be laid waste,
and the land shall be desolate" (Ezek. xii. 19, 20).
The sheikh of Bozrah told me that his flocks would not
be safe even in his own court-yard at night, and that armed
sentinels had to patrol continually round their little fields
at harvest-time. "If it were not for the castle," he said,
"which has high walls, and a strong iron gate, we should
be forced to leave Busrah altogether. We could not stay
here a week. The Bedawin swarm round the ruins. They
steal everything they can lay hold of,-goat, sheep, cow,
horse, or camel; and before we can get on their track they
are far away in the desert."
Two or three incidents came under my own notice which
proved the truth of the sheikh's sad statement.
One day
when examining the ruins of a large mosque, the head of a
Bedawy appeared over an adjoining wall, looking at us.
The sheikh, who was by my side, cried out, on sceing him,
“Dog, you stole my sheep!" and seizing a stone he hurled it
at him with such force and precision as must have brained
him had he not ducked behind the wall. The sheikh and
his companions gave chase, but the fellow escaped. One
cannot but compare such scenes, scenes of ordinary life, of
everyday occurrence in Bashan, with the language of pro-
}
67
phecy: "I will give it (the land of Israel) into the hands of
strangers for a prey, and to the wicked of the earth for a
spoil;....robbers shall enter into it and defile it..... The
land is full of bloody crimes, and the city is full of vio-
lence" (Ezek. vii. 2, 21-23).
THE RUINS OF BOZRAH.
}
Bozrah was one of the strongest cities of Bashan; it was,
indeed, the most celebrated fortress east of the Jordan, dur-
ing the Roman rule in Syria. Some parts of its wall are
still almost perfect, a massive rampart of solid masonry,
fifteen feet thick and nearly thirty high, with great square
towers at intervals. The walled city was almost a rectan-
gle, about a mile and a quarter long by a mile broad; and
outside this were large straggling suburbs. A straight
street intersects the city lengthwise, and has a beautiful
gate at each end; and other straight streets run across it.
Roman Bozrah (or Bostra) was a beautiful city, with long
straight avenues and spacious thoroughfares; but the Sara-
cens built their miserable little shops and quaint irregular
houses along the sides of the streets, out and in, here and
there, as fancy or funds directed; and they thus converted
the stately Roman capital, as they did Damascus and An-
tioch, into a labyrinth of narrow, crooked, gloomy lanes.
One sees the splendid Roman palace, and gorgeous Greek
temple, and shapeless Arab dukkán, side by side, alike in
ruins, just as if the words of Isaiah had been written with
special reference to this city of Moab: "He shall bring down
their pride together with the spoil of their hands. And
the fortress of the high fort of thy walls shall He bring
down, lay low, and bring to the ground, even to the dust"
(Isa. xxv. 11, 12).
It might perhaps be as trying to my reader's patience as
it was to my limbs, were I to retrace with him all my
wanderings among the ruins of Bozrah; relating every Httle
incident and adventure; and describing the wonders of art
and architecture, and the curiosities of votive tablet, and
dedicatory inscription on altar, tomb, church, and temple,
68
BASHAN AND ITS GIANT CITIES.
which I examined and deciphered during these three days.
Still I think many will wish to hear a few particulars about
an old Bible city, and a city of so much historical impor-
tance in the latter days of Bashan's glory. To me and to
my companions it was intensely interesting to note the
changes that old city has undergone. They are shown in
the strata of its ruins just as geological periods are shown in
the strata of the earth's crust. Some of them are recorded,
too, on monumental tablets, containing the legends of other
centuries. In one spot, deep down beneath the accumulated
remains of more recent buildings, I saw the simple, massive,
primitive dwellings of the aborigines, with their stone doors
and stone roofs. These were built and inhabited by the
gigantic Emim and Rephaim long before the Chaldean
shepherd migrated from Ur to Canaan (Gen. xiv. 5). High
above them rose the classic portico of a Roman temple,
shattered and tottering, but still grand in its ruins. Pass-
ing between the columns, I saw over its beautifully sculp-
tured doorway a Greek inscription, telling how, in the
fourth century, the temple became a church, and was dedi-
cated to St. John. On entering the building, the record of
still another change appeared on the cracked plaster of the
walls. Upon it was traced in huge Arabic characters the
well-known motto of Islamism: “There is no God but God,
and Mohammed is the prophet of God."
One of the first buildings I visited was the castle, and on
my way to it I passed a triumphal arch, erected, as a Latin
inscription tells us, in honour of Julius, prefect of the first
Parthian Philippine legion. It was most likely built during
the reign of the emperor Philip, who was a native of Boz-
rah. The castle stands on the south side of the city, with-
out the walls; and forming a separate fortress, was fitted
at once to defend and command the town. It is of great
size and strength, and the outer walls, towers, gate, and
moat are nearly perfect; but the interior is ruinous. On
the basement are immense vaulted tanks, stores, and gal-
THE RUINS OF BOZRAII.
69
leries; and over them were chambers sufficient to accommo-
date a small army. In the very centre of the structure,
supported on massive piers and arches, are the remains of
a theatre. This splendid monument of the luxury and
magnificence of former days was so designed that the spec-
tators commanded a view of the city and the whole plain
beyond it to the base of Hermon. The building is a semi-
circle, 270 feet in diameter, and open above, like all Roman
theatres. It was no doubt intended for the amusement of
the Roman garrison, when Bostra was the capital of a prov-
ince and the headquarters of a legion.*
The keep is a huge square tower, rising high above the
battlements, and overlooking the plains of Bashan and
Moab. From it I saw that Bozrah was in ancient times
connected by a series of great highways with the leading
cities and districts in Bashan and Arabia. They diverge
from the city in straight lines; and my eye followed one.
after another till it disappeared in the far distance. One
ran westward to the town of Ghusam, and then to Edrei;
another northward to Suweideh and Damascus; another
north-west, up among the mountains of Bashan; another to
Kerioth; and another eastward, straight as an arrow, to
the castle of Salcah, which crowned a conical hill on the
horizon. Towns and villages appeared in every direction,
thickly dotting the vast plain; a few of those to the north
are inhabited, but all those southward have been deserted
for centuries. I examined them long and carefully with my
telescope, and their walls and houses appeared to be in even
better preservation than those I had already visited. This
has since been found to be the case, for my friend Mr. Cyril
*This opinion has been questioned by M. Rey, an accomplished French savant, who
in the year 1858 retraced my footsteps through Bashan, and reviewed my "Five Years in
Damascus" as he went along. I had the pleasure of meeting M. Rey on several occa-
sions, and was impressed alike with his gentlemanly deportment and accomplished
scholarship; but being an intimate friend of M. De Saulcy, whose pretended discoveries
in and around Damascus I had criticized perhaps a little too severely, I am not surprised
that he should make an occasional attempt at retaliation.
70
BASHAN AND ITS GIANT CITIES.
Graham visited them, penetrating this wild and dangerous
country as far as Um el Jemâl, the Beth-gamul of Scripture,
which I saw from Bozrah, and to which I called his special
attention. Beth-gamul is unquestionably one of the most re-
markable places east of the Jordan. It is as large as Bozrah.
It is surrounded by high walls, and contains many massive
houses built of huge blocks of basalt; their roofs and doors,
and even the gates of the city, being formed of the same
material. Though deserted for many centuries, the houses,
streets, walls, and gates are in as perfect preservation as if
the city had been inhabited until within the last few years.
It is curious to note the change that has taken place in the
name. What the Hebrews called "The house of the
camel,” the Arabs now call "The mother of the camel.”
I cannot tell how deeply I was impressed when looking
out over that noble plain, rivalling in richness of soil the
best of England's counties, thickly studded with cities,
towns, and villages, intersected with roads, having one of
the finest climates in the world; and yet utterly deserted,
literally "without man, without inhabitant, and without
beast" (Isa. xxxiii. 10). I cannot tell with what mingled
feelings of sorrow and of joy, of mourning and of thanks-
giving, of fear and of faith, I reflected on the history of that
land; and taking out my Bible compared its existing state,
as seen with my own eyes, with the numerous predictions
regarding it written by the Hebrew prophets. In their
day it was populous and prosperous; the fields waved with
corn; the hill-sides were covered with flocks and herds; the
highways were thronged with wayfarers; the cities resound-
ed with the continuous din of a busy population. And yet
they wrote as if they had seen the land as I saw it from the
ramparts of Bozrah. The Spirit of the omniscient God
alone could have guided the hand that penned such pre-
dictions as these: "Then said I, Lord, how long? And he
answered, Until the cities be wasted without inhabitant,
and the houses without man, and the land be utterly deso-
CHURCH AND MOSQUE AT BOZRAH.
71
late, and the Lord hath removed men far away, and there
be a great forsaking in the midst of the land" (Isa. vi. 11,
12). "The destroyer of the Gentiles is on his way; he is
gone forth from his place to make thy land desolate; and
thy cities shall be laid waste without an inhabitant" (Jer.
iv. 7).
In former times a garrison was maintained in the castle
of Bozrah by the Pasha of Damascus, for the purpose of
defending the southern sections of Bashan from the periodi-
cal incursions of the Bedawîn. It has been withdrawn for
many years. The "
The "Destroyer of the Gentiles" can now
come up unrestrained, "the spoilers" can now come upon
all high places through the wilderness," the sword now
"devours from the one end of the land even to the other
end of the land” (Jer. xii. 12); the cities are "without in-
habitant," the houses are "without man," the land is “ut-
terly desolate," judgment has come upon it all far and
near; in a word, THE WHOLE OF BASHAN AND MOAB IS ONE
66
GREAT FULFILLED PROPHECY.
We were conducted by our intelligent guide to a large
church, apparently the ancient cathedral of Bozrah. It is
built in the form of a Greek cross, and on the walls of the
chancel are some remains of rude frescoes, representing
saints and angels. Over the door is an inscription stating
that the church was founded "by Julianus, archbishop of
Bostra, in the year A.D. 513, in honour of the blessed mar-
tyrs Sergius, Bacchus, and Leontius." Our guide called
the building “the church of the monk Bohira;" and a very
old tradition represents this monk as playing an important
part in the early history of Mohammedanism. It is said he
was a native of this city, and that, being expelled from his
convent, he joined the Arabian prophet, and aided in writ-
ing the Koran, supplying all those stories from the Bible,
the Talmud, and the spurious Gospels, which make up so
large a part of that remarkable book.
Not far from the church is the principal mosque, built, it
4
72
BASHAN AND ITS GIANT CITIES.
is said, by the Khalif Omar. The roof was supported on
colonnades, like the early basilicas; and seventeen of the
columns are monoliths of white marble, of great beauty.
Two of them have inscriptions showing that they formerly
belonged to some church, but probably they were originally
intended to ornament a Greek temple.
We extended our walk one day to the suburbs on the
north and west, where there are remains of some large and
splendid buildings. We then proceeded to the west gate,
at the end of the main street. The ancient pavement of the
street, and of the road which runs across the plain to Ghu-
sam, is quite perfect, not a stone out of place. The gate
has a single but spacious Roman arch, ornamented with
pilasters and niches. Outside is a guard-house of the
same style and period. Sitting down on the broken wall
of this little building, I gazed long on the ruins of the city,
and on the vast deserted plain. My companions had taken
shelter from a shower in a vacant niche; and now there
was not a human being, there was not a sign of life, within
the range of vision. The open gate revealed heaps of rub-
bish and piles of stones, and shattered walls. In the dis-
tance a solitary column stood here and there, and the trium-
phal arch which rose over all around it, appeared as if
built to celebrate the triumph of DESOLATION. The deso-
lation of the plain without was as complete as that of the
city within. Never before had I seen such a picture of ut-
ter, terrible desolation, except at Palmyra; and even there
it was not so remarkable. That "city of the desert"
might rise and flourish for a season, while the tide of com-
merce was rolling past it, and while it stood a solitary oasis
on the desert highway uniting the eastern and western
worlds; but on the opening up of some other channel of
communication, it might naturally decline and fall. Boz-
rah is altogether different. It was situated in the midst of
a fertile plain, in the centre of a populous province. It had
abundant resources, fountains of water, an impregnable

FILMER C
MOSOULE
TOE
OMAR
น
Msando
1
73
fortress. Why should Bozrah become desolate ? Who
would have ventured to predict its ruin? It surely was no
city to grow up in a day and fade in a night! It surely
did not depend for prosperity on the changeable channel
of commerce! Something above and beyond mere natural
causes and influences must have operated here. We can
only understand its strange history when we read it in the
light of prophecy. Then we can see the impress of a
mightier than human hand. We can see that the curse of
an angry God for the sin of a rebellious people has fallen
upon Bozrah, “and upon all the cities of the land of Moab
far and near" (Jer. xlviii. 24).
Two Bozrahs are mentioned in the Bible. One was in
Edom, and is referred to in the well-known passage, "Who
is this that cometh from Edom, with dyed garments from
Bozrah?" (Isa. lxiii. 1). Upon this ancient city judgments.
are pronounced in connection with Edom and Teman, whose
inhabitants dwelt "in the clefts of the rocks," and the
"heights of the hills," and made their houses "like the
nests of the eagles" (Jer. xlix. 7-22). When pronouncing
judgment upon Moab, the same prophet says, "Judgment
is come upon the plain country," and he names the cities
which stood in the plain, and among them are Beth-gamul,
Kerioth, and Bozrah (Jer. xlviii. 21-24). Evidently these
predictions cannot refer to the same place. Another fact
still more conclusively establishes the point. After com-
pleting the sentence of Moab, including one Bozrah, the
Spirit of God adds, "Yet will I bring again the captivity
of Moab in the latter days" (Jer. xlviii. 47); whereas in
Edom's doom we have these terrible words, "For I have
sworn by myself, saith the Lord, that Bozrah shall become
a desolation, a reproach, a waste, and a curse; and all the
cities thereof shall be perpetual wastes" (Jer. xlix. 13).*
HISTORY OF BOZRAH.
*Modern research in this, as in many other cases, has confirmed the accuracy of Bibli-
cal topography. The Bozrah of Edom has been identified with the village of Buseireh,
among the mountains north of Petra; and here, in the plain, we have the Bozrah of
1
74
BASHAN AND ITS GIANT CITIES.
The plain of Moab embraced a large part of the plateau
east of the Dead Sea and the Jordan. A short time before
the exodus the Amorites conquered the northern part of
that plain; and from them it was taken by the tribes of
Reuben and Gad. It is doubtful whether the Moabites
were ever completely expelled. They probably retired for
a time to the desert, and when Israel's power declined, re-
turned to their old possessions. The predictions of Jere-
miah refer to cities once held by the Israelites, yet in his
days belonging to Moab; hence he includes Bozrah in the
land of Moab. Subsequently, Bozrah became the capital
of a large Roman province; then the metropolitan city of
Eastern Palestine, when its primate had thirty-three hish-
ops under him; then it was captured by the Mohamme-
dans, and gradually fell to ruin. Now we can see that the
prophet's words are fulfilled, "Judgment has come upon
Bozrah."
DESERTED CITIES.
We had not gone more than four miles from Bozrah when
an alarm was raised. The people of Bozrah had told us,
and we had known ourselves, that though the country on
our proposed route is thickly studded with towns and vil-
lages, yet not a single human being dwells in them. When
approaching the village of Burd we saw figures moving
about. At first we thought some shepherds had taken re-
fuge there with their flocks; but it very soon became appar-
ent that the figures were not shepherds. Considerable num-
bers collected on the flat house-tops, and we could see horses
led out and held beneath the walls. They evidently saw
us, and were preparing for an attack. We held a council
C
Moab. I was somewhat surprised recently to find that the writer of the article Bozrah,
in "Fairbairn's Dictionary of the Bible," charges me with holding the opinion of Kitto
and others, that Bozrah of Edom, Bozrah of Moab, and modern Busrah, are identical. I
never held such an opinion. I have always affirmed, that Bozrah of Edom and Bozrah of
Moab were distinct cities; and had the writer of the article mentioned turned to my
"Five Years in Damascus," vol. ii. p. 160, or to my "Handbook," or to the article BOZRAH
in the last edition of "Kitto's Cyclopedia," he would have seen this.
f
DESERTED CITIES.
75
of war, and resolved unanimously to go forward, and if at-
tacked to meet the enemy boldly. Mahmood, after exam-
ining his gun and pistols, and loosening his sword in its
scabbard, galloped off to reconnoitre. A horseman came
out to meet him. I confess it was rather an anxious mo-
ment, but it did not last long. A few words were spoken,
and Mahmood came back with the welcome intelligence
that a little colony of Druses had migrated to the village
two days previously. They were as much alarmed at us as
we were at them. So it is always now in this unfortunate
land, where the Ishmaelite roams free-"His hand against
every man and every man's hand against him." Every
stranger is looked upon as an enemy until he is proved to
be a friend. The time and events so graphically depicted
by Jeremiah have come: “O inhabitant of Aroer, stand
by the way and espy: ask him that fleeth, and her that es-
capeth, and say, What is done?" (Jer xlviii. 19.)
We rode on along the Roman road, stopping occasionally
to examine with our glasses the deserted towns away to the
right and left, and once or twice galloping to those near the
road, so as to inspect their strange massive houses, standing
complete, but tenantless. Often and often did our eyes
sweep the open plain, and scan suspicious ruins, and peer
into valleys, in the fear or hope of discovering roving
Ishmaelites. We were almost disappointed that none ap-
peared.
Soon after leaving Burd, we entered a rocky district; and
here, among the rocks, we found some fields where a few
Druses were ploughing, each man having his gun slung
over his shoulders, and pistols in his belt. This is surely
cultivation under difficulties. From this place until we
reached Salcah, we did not see a living creature, except a
flock of partridges and a herd of gazelles. The desert of
Arabia is not more desolate than this rich and once popu-
lous plain of Moab.
76
BASHAN AND ITS GIANT CITIES.
I
SALCAH.
Joshua tells us that the kingdom of Og the giant included
“all Bashan unto Salcah" (Josh. xiii. 11, 12); and the Is-
raelites took and occupied the whole region from Mount
Hermon "unto Salcah." Salcah, the eastern frontier city of
Bashan, was now before me; its great old castle perched on
the top of a conical hill, overlooking a boundless plain, and
the city itself spread along its sloping sides, and reaching
oui into the valley below. I felt glad and thankful that I
was privileged to reach the utmost eastern border of Pales-
tine. I had previously explored its northern border away
on the plain of Hamath and on the heights of Lebanon, and
its western border from Tripoli to Joppa; and since that
time I have traversed the southern border from Gaza east-
ward.
Salcah is one of the most remarkable cities in Palestine.
It has been long deserted; and yet, as nearly as I could es-
timate, five hundred of its houses are still standing, and
from three to four hundred families might settle in it at any
moment without laying a stone, or expending an hour's la-
bour on repairs. The circumference of the town and castle
together is about three miles. Besides the castle, a number
of square towers, like the belfries of churches, and a few
mosques, appear to be the only public buildings.
On approaching Saleah, we rode through an old ceme-
tery, and then, passing the ruins of an ancient gate, entered
the streets of the deserted city. The open doors, the empty
houses, the rank grass and weeds, the long straggling bram-
bles in the door-ways and windows, formed a strange, im-
pressive picture which can never leave my memory. Street
after street we traversed, the tread of our horses awakening
mournful echoes, and startling the foxes from their dens in
the palaces of Salcah. Reaching an open paved area, in
front of the principal mosque, we committed our horses to
the keeping of Mahmood, who tied them up, unstrung his
CASTLE OF SALCAH.
77
gun, and sat down to act the part of sentry, while we ex-
plored the city.
The castle occupies the summit of a steep conical hill,
which rises to the height of some three hundred feet, and is
the southern point of the mountain range of Bashan. Round
the base of the hill is a deep moat, and another still deeper
encircles the walls of the fortress. The building is a patch-
work of various periods and nations. The foundations are
Jewish, if not earlier; Roman rustic masonry appears above
them; and over all is lighter Saracenic work, with beauti-
fully interlaced inscriptions. The exterior walls are not
much defaced, but the interior is one confused mass of
ruins.
The view from the top is wide and wonderfully interest-
ing. It embraces the whole southern slopes of the moun-
tains, which, though rocky, are covered from bottom to top
with artificial terraces, and fields divided by stone fences.
From their base the plain of Bashan stretches out on the
west to Hermon; the plain of Moab on the south, to the
horizon; and the plain of Arabia on the east, beyond the
range of vision. For more than an hour I sat gazing on
that vast panorama. Wherever I turned my eyes towns
and villages were seen. Bozrah was there on its plain,
twelve miles distant. The towers of Beth-Gamul were
faintly visible far away on the horizon. In the vale imme-
diately to the south of Salcah are several deserted towns,
whose names I could not ascertain. Three miles off, in the
same direction, is a hill called Abd el-Maaz, with a large
deserted town on its eastern side. To the south-east an an-
cient road runs straight across the plain as far as the eye
can see. About six miles along it, on the top of a hill, is
the deserted town of Maleh. On the section of the plain
between south and east I counted fourteen towns, all of
them, so far as I could see with my telescope, habitable like
Salcah, but entirely deserted! From this one spot I saw
upwards of thirty deserted towns! Well might I exclaim
78
BASHAN AND ITS GIANT CITIES.
with the prophet, as I sat on the ruins of this great fortress,
and looked over that mournful scene of utter desolation,
"Moab is spoiled, and gone up out of her cities. . . . . Moab
is confounded; for it is broken down: howl and cry ; tell
ye it in Arnon that Moab is spoiled, and judgment is come
upon the plain country..... Upon Kiriathaim, and upon
Beth-gamul, and upon Beth-meon, and upon Kerioth,
upon Bozrah, and upon all the cities of the land of Moab,
far and near" (Jer. xlviii. 15–24).
'
Another feature of the landscape impressed me still more
deeply. Not only is the country-plain and hill-side alike-
chequered with fenced fields, but groves of fig-trees are here
and there seen, and terraced vineyards still clothe the sides
of some of the hills. These are neglected and wild, but not
fruitless. Mahmood told us that they produce great quan-
tities of figs and grapes, which are rifled year after year by
the Bedawîn in their periodical raids. How literal and how
true have the words of Jeremiah become! “O vine of
Sibmah, I will weep for thee with the weeping of Jazer:
.... the spoiler is fallen upon thy summer fruits, and
upon thy vintage. And joy and gladness is taken from
the plentiful field, and from the land of Moab; and 1
have caused wine to fail from the wine-presses; none
shall tread with shouting" (Jer. xlviii. 32, 33). Nowhere
on earth is there such a melancholy example of tyranny, ra-
pacity, and misrule, as here. Fields, pastures, vineyards,
houses, villages, cities-all alike deserted and waste. Even
the few inhabitants that have hid themselves among the
rocky fastnesses and mountain defiles drag out a miserable
existence, oppressed by robbers of the desert on the one
hand, and robbers of the government on the other. It
would seem as if the people of Moab had heard the injunc-
tion of Jeremiah: "O ye that dwell in Moab, leave the
cities and dwell in the rock, and be like the dove that mak-
eth her nest in the side of the hole's mouth." And even
thus they cannot escape, for "He that fleeth shall fall into
DESCRIPTION OF BETH-GAMUL.
79
the pit; and he that getteth up out of the pit shall be taken
in the snare: for I will bring upon it, even upon Moab, the
year of their visitation, saith the Lord" (Jer. xlviii. 28, 44).
V.
"Judgment is come upon all the cities of the land of Moab, far and near."
Salcah is situated on the south-eastern corner of Bashan.
Standing on the lofty battlements of its castle, Moab and
Arabia lay before me-the former on the right, the latter
on the left, each a boundless plain reaching from the city
walls to the horizon. Behind me rose in terraced slopes the
mountains of Bashan, and over their southern declivities
the eye took in a wide expanse of its plain. Everywhere on
that vast panorama,-on plain and mountain side, in Bashan,
Moab, and Arabia, far as the eye could see and the telescope
command,—were towns and villages thickly scattered; and
all deserted, though not ruined. Many people might have
thought, and a few still believe, that there was a large
amount of Eastern exaggeration in the language of Moses
when describing the conquest of this country three thousand
three-
years ago: "We took all his cities at that time, . .
score cities, all the region of Argob, the kingdom of Og in
Bashan. All these cities were fenced with high walls, gates,
and bars; beside unwalled towns a great many" (Deut. iii.
4, 5). No man who has traversed Bashan, or who has climb-
ed the hill of Salcah, will ever again venture to bring such a
charge against the sacred historian. The walled cities, with
their ponderous gates of stone, are there now as they were
when the Israelites invaded the land. The great numbers
of unwalled towns are there too, standing testimonies to
the truth and accuracy of Moses, and monumental protests
against the poetical interpretations of modern rationalists.
There are the roads once thronged by the teeming popula-
tion; there are the fields they enclosed and cultivated;
80
BASHAN AND ITS GIANT CITIES.
there are the terraces they built up; there are the vine-
yards and orchards they planted; all alike desolate, not po-
etically or ideally, but literally "without man, and without
inhabitant, and without beast."
Q.
My friend Mr. Cyril Graham, who followed so far in my
track, and who was the first of European travellers to pene-
trate those plains beyond, which I have been trying to de-
scribe, bears his testimony to the literal fulfilment of proph-
ecy. Some of his descriptions of what he saw are exceed-
ingly interesting and graphic; and one is only sorry that they
are so very brief. Of Beth-gamul he says: "On reaching this
city, I left my Arabs at one particular spot, and wandered
about quite alone in the old streets of the town, entered one
by one the old houses, went up stairs, visited the rooms,
and, in short, made a careful examination of the whole
place; but so perfect was every street, every house, every
room, that I almost fancied I was in a dream, wandering
alone in this city of the dead, seeing all perfect, yet not
hearing a sound. I don't wish to moralize too much, but
one cannot help reflecting on a people once so great and so
powerful, who, living in these houses of stone within their
walled cities, must have thought themselves invincible; who
had their palaces and their sculptures, and who, no doubt,
claimed to be the great nation, as all Eastern nations have
done; and that this people should have so passed away, that
for so many centuries the country they inhabited has been
reckoned as a desert, until some traveller from a distant
land, curious to explore these regions, finds these old towns
standing alone, and telling of a race long gone by, whose
history is unknown, and whose very name is matter of dis-
pute. Yet this very state of things is predicted by Jere-
miah. Concerning this very country he says these very
words,- For the cities thereof shall be desolate, without
any to dwell therein' (Jer. xlviii. 9); and the people (Moab)
'shall be destroyed from being a people' (ver. 42). Here
I think there can be no ambiguity. Visit these ancient cit-
FULFILMENT OF PROPHECY.
81
ies, and turn to that ancient Book-no further comment is
necessary.'
""
No less than eleven of the old cities which I saw from
Salcah, lying between Bozrah and Beth-gamul, were visited
by Mr. Graham. Their ramparts, their houses, their streets,
their gates and doors, are nearly all perfect; and yet they
are “desolate without man." This enterprising and daring
traveller also made a long journey into the hitherto unex-
plored country east of the mountains of Bashan. There he
found ancient cities, and roads, and vast numbers of inscrip-
tions in unknown characters, but not a single inhabitant.
The towns and villages east of the mountain range are all,
without exception, deserted; the soil is uncultivated, and
"the highways lie waste." In the whole of those vast
plains, north and south, east and west, DESOLATION reigns
supreme. The cities, the highways, the vineyards, the
fields, are all alike silent as the grave, except during the pe-
riodical migrations of the Bedawîn, whose flocks, herds, and
people eat, trample down, and waste all before them. The
long predicted doom of Moab is now fulfilled: “The spoiler
shall come upon every city, and no city shall escape: the
valley also shall perish, and the plain shall be destroyed,
as the Lord hath spoken. Give wings unto Moab, that
it may flee and get away; for the cities thereof shall
be desolate, without any to dwell therein.".... But why
should I transcribe more? Why should I continue to com-
pare the predictions of the Bible with the state of the
country? The harmony is complete. No traveller can pos-
sibly fail to see it; and no conscientious man can fail to
acknowledge it. The best, the fullest, the most instructive
commentary I ever saw on the forty-eighth chapter of Jer-´
emiah, was that inscribed by the finger of God on the pan-
orama spread out around me as I stood on the battlements
of the castle of Salcah.
It was a sad and solemn scene, a scene of utter and
terrible desolation,-the result of sin and folly; and yet I
;
82
BASHAN AND ITS GIANT CITIES.
turned away from it with much reluctance. I would gladly
have seen more of those old cities, and penetrated farther
into that uninhabited plain. A tempting field lay there for
the ecclesiastical antiquarian and the student of sacred his-
tory; but the time was not suitable for such a journey, and
other duties summoned me away.*
Remounting our horses we rode along the silent streets.
and passed out of the deserted gates into the desolate
country. After winding down the steep hill-side amid.
mounds of rubbish we halted in the centre of an ancient
cemetery to take a last look of Salcah. The castle rose high
over us on the crest of its conical hill, while the towers,
walls, and terraced houses of the city extended in a serried
line down the southern declivity to the plain, where they
met the old gardens and vineyards. Everything seemed so
complete, so habitable, so life-like, that once and again I
looked and examined as the question rose in my mind,
"Can this city be totally deserted?" Yes, it was so;-
"without man, and without beast.'
""
"Slumber is there, but not of rest:
Here her forlorn and weary nest
The famish'd hawk has found.
The wild dog howls at fall of night,
The serpent's rustling coils affright
The traveller on his round."
KERIOTH.
We turned westward to Kerioth, and soon fell into the
line of the ancient road, its pavement in many places per-
fect, though here and there torn up and swept away by
mountain torrents. On our right, about two miles distant,
'lay Ayun, a deserted city as large as Salcah. Kuweiris,
Ain, Muneiderah, and many others were visible,-some in
•
*Another traveller has of late traversed part of Bashan, and penetrated the desert east-
ward. I refer to Dr. J. G. Wetzstein, whom I had the pleasure of knowing as Prussian
consul in Damascus. His little work, Reisebericht über Hauran und die Trachonen,
Berlin, 1860, is interesting and instructive. It contains the fullest account hitherto pub-
lished of that remarkable region, the Safa.
•
STONE GATES AND DOORS.
83
quiet green vales, some perched like fortresses on the sides
and summits of rugged hills. The country through which
our route lay was very rocky; but though now desolate, the
signs of former industry are there. The loose stones have
been gathered into great heaps, and little fields formed;
and terraces can be traced along every hill-side from bot-
tom to top.
In two hours we reached Kureiyeh, and received a cor-
dial welcome from its warlike Druse chief, Ismail el-Atrash.
The town is situated in a wide valley at the south-western
base of the mountains of Bashan. The ruins are of great
extent, covering a space at least as large as Salcah. The
houses which remain have the same general appearance as
those in other towns. No large public building now exists
entire; but there are traces of many; and in the streets and
lanes are numerous fragments of columns and other vestiges
of ancient grandeur. I copied several Greek inscriptions
bearing dates of the first and second centuries in our era.
Among the cities in the plain of Moab upon which judg-
ment is pronounced by Jeremiah, KERIOTH occurs in con-
nection with Beth-gamul and Bozrah; and here, on the
side of the plain, only five miles distant from Bozrah,
stands Kureiyeh, manifestly an Arabic form of the He-
brew Kerioth. Kerioth was reckoned one of the strong-
holds of the plain of Moab (Jer. xlviii. 41). Standing in
the midst of wide-spread rock-fields, the passes through
which could be easily defended; and encircled by massive
ramparts, the remains of which are still there, I saw, and
every traveller can see, how applicable is Jeremiah's re-
ference, and how strong this city must once have been. I
could not but remark, too, while wandering through the
streets and lanes, that the private houses bear the marks of
the most remote antiquity. The few towers and fragments
of temples, which inscriptions show to have been erected in
the first centuries of the Christian era, are modern in com-
parison with the colossal walls and massive stone doors of
·
84
BASHAN AND ITS GIANT CITIES.
↑
the private houses. The simplicity of their style, their low
roofs, the ponderous blocks of roughly hewn stone with
which they are built, the great thickness of the walls, and
the heavy slabs which form the ceilings,-all point to a
period far earlier than the Roman age, and probably even
antecedent to the conquest of the country by the Israelites.
Moses makes special mention of the strong cities of Bashan,
and speaks of their high walls and gates. He tells us, too,
in the same connection, that Bashan was called the land of
the giants (or Rephaim, Deut. iii. 13); leaving us to con-
clude that the cities were built by giants. Now the houses
of Kerioth and other towns in Bashan appear to be just such
dwellings as a race of giants would build. The walls, the
roofs, but especially the ponderous gates, doors, and bars,
are in every way characteristic of a period when architec-
ture was in its infancy, when giants were masons, and when
strength and security were the grand requisites. I meas-
ured a door in Kerioth: it was nine feet high, four and a
half feet wide, and ten inches thick,—one solid slab of stone.
I saw the folding gates of another town in the mountains
still larger and heavier. Time produces little effect on such
buildings as these. The heavy stone slabs of the roofs rest-
ing on the massive walls make the structure as firm as if
built of solid masonry; and the black basalt used is almost
as hard as iron. There can scarcely be a doubt, therefore,
that these are the very cities erected and inhabited by the
Rephaim, the aboriginal occupants of Bashan; and the
language of Ritter appears to be true: "These buildings
remain as eternal witnesses of the conquest of Bashan by
Jehovah."
-
We have thus at Kerioth and its sister cities some of the
most ancient houses of which the world can boast; and in
looking at them and wandering among them, and passing
night after night in them, my mind was led away back to
the time, now nearly four thousand years ago, when the
kings of the East warred with the Rephaim in Ashteroth-
LUFT
Jaooda
STONE DOOR.
U
INTERIOR SHOWING STONE ROOF.
THE HOUSES OF THE REPHAIM.
1.
85
Karnaim, and with the Emim in the plain of Kiriathaim
(Gen. xiv. 5). Some of the houses in which I slept were
most probably standing at the period of that invasion.
How strange to occupy houses of which giants were the
architects, and a race of giants the original owners! The
temples and tombs of Upper Egypt are of great interest,
as the works of one of the most enlightened nations of an-
tiquity; the palaces of Nineveh are still more interesting, as
the memorials of a great city which lay buried for two
thousand years; but the massive houses of Kerioth scarcely
yield in interest to either. They are antiquities of another
kind. In size they cannot vie with the temples of Karnac;
in splendour they do not approach the palaces of Khorsa-
bad; yet they are the memorials of a race of giant warriors
that has been extinct for more than three thousand years,
and of which Og, king of Bashan, was one of the last re-
presentatives; and they are, I believe, the only specimens
in the world of the ordinary private dwellings of remote
antiquity. The monuments designed by the genius and
reared by the wealth of imperial Rome are fast mouldering
to ruin in this land; temples, palaces, tombs, fortresses, are
all shattered, or prostrate in the dust; but the simple, mas-
sive houses of the Rephaim are in many cases perfect as if
only completed yesterday.
It is worthy of note here, as tending to prove the truth
of my statements, and to illustrate the words of the sacred
writers, that the towns of Bashan were considered ancient
even in the days of the Roman historian Ammianus Mar-
cellinus, who says regarding this country: "Fortresses and
strong castles have been erected by the ancient inhabitants
among the retired mountains and forests. Here in the
midst of numerous towns, are some great cities, such as
Bostra and Gerasa, encompassed by massive walls." Mr.
Graham, the only other traveller since Burckhardt, who
traversed eastern Bashan, entirely agrees with me in my
conclusions. "When we find," he writes,
66 one after an-
86
BASHAN AND ITS GIANT CITIES.
other, great stone cities, walled and unwalled, with stone
gates, and so crowded together that it becomes almost a
matter of wonder how all the people could have lived in so
small a place; when we see houses built of such huge and
massive stones that no force which can be brought against
them in that country could ever batter them down; when
we find rooms in these houses so large and lofty that many
of them would be considered fine rooms in a palace in Eu-
rope; and, lastly, when we find some of these towns bearing
the very names which cities in that very country bore before
the Israelites came out of Egypt, I think we cannot help feel-
ing the strongest conviction that we have before us the cities
of the Rephain of which we read in the Book of Deuter-
onomy."
Kerioth is a frontier town. It is on the confines of the
uninhabited plain, where the fierce Ishmaelite roams at
will, "his hand against every man." The Druses of Ke-
rioth are all armed, and they always carry their arms.
With their goats on the hill-side, with their yokes of oxen
in the field, with their asses or camels on the road, at all
hours, in all places, their rifles are slung, their swords by
their side, and their pistols in their belts. Their daring'
chief, too, goes forth on his expeditions equipped in a hel-
met of steel and a coat of linked mail. In this respect also
the words of prophecy are fulfilled: "Moab hath been at
ease from his youth. . . . Therefore, behold, the days come,
saith the Lord, that I will send unto him wanderers, that
shall cause him to wander, and shall empty his vessels,
and break his bottles" (Jer. xlviii. 12). What could be
more graphic than this? The wandering Bedawîn are now
the scourge of Moab; they cause the few inhabitants that
remain in it to settle down amid the fastnesses of the rocks
and mountains, and often to wander from city to city, in
the vain hope of finding rest and security.
THE MOUNTAINS AND OAKS OF BASHAN.
87
THE MOUNTAINS AND OAKS OF BASIAN.
Leaving Kerioth I turned my back on Moab's desolate
plain, and began to climb the Mountains of Bashan. Bleak
and rocky at the base, they soon assume bolder outlines
and exhibit grander features. Ravines cut deeply into
their sides; bare cliffs shoot out from tangled jungles of
dwarf ilex, woven together with brambles and creeping
plants; pointed cones of basalt, strewn here and there with
cinders and ashes, tower up until a wreath of snow is wound
round their heads; straggling trees of the great old oaks of
Bashan dot thinly the lower declivities; higher up little.
groves of them appear, and higher still, around the loftiest
peaks, are dense forests. Our road was a goat-track, which
wound along the side of a brawling mountain torrent, now
scaling a dizzy crag high over it, and now diving down
again till the spray of its miniature cascades dashed over
our horses. For nearly two hours we rode up that wild
and picturesque mountain side. We passed several small
villages perched like fortresses on projecting cliffs, and we
saw other larger ones in the distance; they are all deserted;
and during those two hours we did not meet, nor see, nor
hear a human being. We saw partridges among the rocks,
and eagles sweeping in graceful circles round the mountain
tops, and two or three foxes and one hyena, startled from
their lairs by the sound of our horses' feet; but we saw no
man, no herd, no flock. The time of judgment predicted
by Isaiah has surely come to this part of the land of Israel:
"Behold, the Lord maketh the land empty, and maketh it
waste, and turneth it upside down, and scattereth abroad
the inhabitants thereof. The land shall be utterly emp-
tied, and utterly spoiled; for the Lord hath spoken this
word" (Isa. xxiv. 1, 3).
On one of the southern peaks of the mountain range, some
two thousand feet above the vale of Kerioth, stands the
town of Hebrân. Its shattered walls and houses looked
88
BASHAN AND ITS GIANT CITIES.
exceedingly picturesque, as we wound up a deep ravine,
shooting out far overhead from among the tufted foliage of
the evergreen oak. Our little cavalcade was seen approach-
ing, and ere we reached the brow of the hill the whole
population had come out to meet and welcome us. The
sheikh, a noble-looking young Druse, had already sent a
man to bring a kid from the nearest flock to make a feast
for us, and we saw him bounding away through an opening
in the forest. He returned in half an hour with the kid on
his shoulder. We assured the hospitable sheikh that it
was impossible for us to remain. Our servants were al-
ready far away over the plain, and we had a long journey
before us. He would listen to no excuse. The feast must
be prepared. "My lord could not pass by his servant's
house without honouring him by eating a morsel of bread,
and partaking of the kid which is being made ready. The
sun is high; the day is long; rest for a time under my roof;
eat and drink, and then pass on in peace." There was so
much of the true spirit of patriarchal hospitality here, so
much that recalled to mind scenes in the life of Abraham
(Gen. xviii. 2), and Manoah (Judges xiii. 15), and other
Scripture celebrities, that we found it hard to refuse. Time
pressed, however, and we were reluctantly compelled to
leave before the kid was served.
In the town of Hebrân are many objects of interest. The
ruins of a beautiful temple, built in A.D. 155, and of several
other public edifices, are strewn over the summit and rugged
sides of the hill. But the simple, massive, primeval houses
were to us objects of greater attraction. Many of them are
perfect, and in them the modern inhabitants find ample and
comfortable accommodation. The stone doors appeared even
more massive than those of Kerioth; and we found the
walls of the houses in some instances more than seven feet
thick. Hebrân must have been one of the most ancient
cities of Bashan. The view from it is magnificent. The
whole country, from Kerioth to Bozrah, and from Bozrah
i
TESTIMONY TO THE ACCURACY OF SCRIPTURE. 89
to Salcah, was spread out before me like an embossed map;
while away beyond, east, south, and west, the panorama
stretched to the horizon. Two miles below me, on a pro-
jecting ridge, lay the deserted town of Afìneh, thought by
some to be the ancient Ashteroth-Karnaim; about three
miles eastward the grey towers of Sehweh, a large town
and castle, rose up from the midst of a dense oak forest.
About the same distance northward is Kufr, another town
whose walls still stand, and its stone gates, about ten feet
high, remain in their places. Yet the town is deserted.
Truly one might repeat, in every part of Bashan, the re-
markable words of Isaiah: “In the city is left desolation;
and the gate is smitten with destruction” (Isa. xxiv. 12).
We observed in wandering through Hebrân, as we had
done previously at Kerioth and other cities, that the large
buildings,-temples, palaces, churches, and mosques,—are
now universally used as folds for sheep and cattle.
We
saw hundreds of animals in the palaces of Kerioth, and the
large buildings of Hebrân were so filled with their dung
that we could scarcely walk through them. This also was
foreseen and foretold by the Hebrew prophets: "The
defenced city shall be desolate, and left like a wilderness;
there shall the calf feed, and there shall he lie down.
The palaces shall be forsaken, the forts and towers
shall be for dens for ever, a joy of wild asses, a pasture of
flocks" (Isa. xxvii. 10; xxxii. 14). And of Moab Isaiah
says: "The cities of Aroer are forsaken; they shall be for
flocks, which shall lie down, and none shall make them
afraid" (Isa. xvii. 2).
From Hebrân we rode along the mountain side in a
north-westerly direction, crossing a Roman road which for-
merly connected the capital, Bozrah, with Kufr, Kanterah,
and other large towns among the mountains.
It is now
"desolate," like all the highways of Bashan, and in places
completely covered over with the branches of oak trees and
straggling brambles. In an hour we passed a group of
•
90
BASHAN AND ITS GIANT CITIES.
large villages, occupied by a few families of Druses. Here,
too, we found that the largest houses are now used as stables
for camels and folds for sheep. Continuing to descend the
terraced but desolate hill-sides, crossing several streamlets.
flowing through picturesque glens, and leaving a number of
deserted villages to the right and left, we at length reached
Suweideh, which we had previously visited on our way to
Bozrah.
I had now crossed over the southern section of the ridge,
and had completed my short tour among the mountains of
Bashan. It was not without feelings of regret that, after a
visit so brief, I was about to turn away from this interest-
ing region, most probably for ever. I felt glad, however,
that I had been privileged to visit, even for so brief a pe-
riod, a country renowned in early history, and sacred as one
of the first provinces bestowed by God on his ancient peo-
ple. The freshness and picturesque beauty of the scenery,
the extent and grandeur of the ruins, the hearty and re-
peated welcomes of the people, the truly patriarchal hospi-
tality with which I was everywhere entertained, but, above
all, the convincing, overwhelming testimony afforded at
every step to the minute accuracy of Scripture history, and
the literal fulfilment of prophecy, filled my mind with such
feelings of joy and of thankfulness as I had never before
experienced. I had often read of Bashan,-how the Lord
had delivered into the hands of the tribe of Manasseh, Og,
its giant king, and all his people. I had observed the state-
ment that a single province of his kingdom, Argob, con-
tained threescore great cities, fenced with high walls, gates,
and bars, besides unwalled towns a great many. I had
examined my map, and had found that the whole of Ba-
shan is not larger than an ordinary English county. I con-
fess I was astonished; and though my faith in the Divine
Record was not shaken, yet I felt that some strange statis-
tical mystery hung over the passage, which required to be
cleared up. That one city, nurtured by the commerce of a
1
·
TESTIMONY TO THE ACCURACY OF SCRIPTURE.
91
mighty empire, might grow till her people could be num-
bered by millions, I could well believe; that two or even
three great commercial cities might spring up in favoured
localities, almost side by side, I could believe too. But
that sixty walled cities, besides unwalled towns a great
many, should exist in a small province, at such a remote
age, far from the sea, with no rivers and little commerce, ap-
peared to be inexplicable. Inexplicable, mysterious though
it appeared, it was true. On the spot, with my own eyes,
I had now verified it. A list of more than one hundred
ruined cities and villages, situated in these mountains
alone, I had in my hands; and on the spot I had tested it,
and found it accurate, though not complete. More than
thirty of these I had myself visited or passed close by.
Many others I had seen in the distance. The extent of
some of them I measured, and have already stated. Of
their high antiquity I could not, after inspecting them, en-
tertain a doubt; and I have explained why. Here, then,
we have a venerable Record, more than three thousand
years old, containing incidental descriptions, statements,
and statistics, which few men would be inclined to receive
on trust, which not a few are now attempting to throw
aside as "glaring absurdities," and "gross exaggerations,"
and yet which close and thorough examination proves to
be accurate in the most minute details. Here, again, are
prophecies of ruin and utter desolation, pronounced and
recorded when this country was in the height of its pros-
perity, when its vast plains waved with corn, when its
hill-sides were 'clothed with vineyards, when its cities and
villages resounded with the busy hum of a teeming popu-
lation; and now, after my survey of Bashan, if I were asked
to describe the present state of plains, mountains, towns,
and villages, I could not possibly select language more ap-
propriate, more accurate, or more graphic, than the lan-
guage of these very prophecies. My unalterable conviction
is, that the eye of the Omniscient God alone could have
92
BASHAN AND ITS GIANT CITIES.
foreseen a doom so terrible as that which has fallen on
Moab and Bashan.
ARGOB.
From Suweideh I rode north-west across the noble plain
of Bashan, passing in succession the villages of Welgha,
Rimeh, Mezraah, and Sijn, and seeing many others away on
the right and left. Most of them contain a few families of
Druses; but not one-tenth of the habitable houses in them
are inhabited. These houses are in every respect similar
to those in the mountains. I was now approaching the re-
markable province of Lejah, the ancient Argob, properly
so called. A four hours' ride brought me to Nejrân, whose
massive black walls and heavy square towers rise up lonely
and desolate from the midst of a wilderness of rocks. The
town has still a comparatively large population; that is,
there are probably a hundred families settled in the old
houses, which cover a space, more than two miles in cir-
cumference. It contains a number of public buildings, the
largest of which is a church, dedicated, as a Greek inscrip-
tion informs us, in the year a.d. 564.
Nejrân stands just within the southern border of the
Lejah. Around the city, and far as I could see westward
and northward, was one vast wilderness of rocks;-here
piled up in shapeless, jagged masses; there spread out in
flat, rugged fields, intersected by yawning fissures and
chasms. The Bible name of the province, Argob,* “the
Stony," is strikingly descriptive of its physical features. I
made a vigorous effort to penetrate to the interior of the
Lejah, in order to visit those strange old cities which I saw
in the distance from the towers of Nejrân, and of which I
had heard so much; but no one would undertake to guide me,
* Argob appears to have been the home of the warlike tribe of Geshurites. Absalom's
mother was Maacah, daughter of Talmai, king of Geshur (2 Sam. iii. 8); and when he
slew his brother Amnon he fled, "and went to Geshur, and was there three years"
(xiil. 88). Probably much of Absalom's wild and wayward spirit may be attributed to
maternal training, and to the promptings of his relatives the Geshurites.
THE LEJAH.
93
and the Druses absolutely refused to be responsible for my
safety should I make the attempt. The Lejah, in fact, is
the sanctuary, the great natural stronghold of the people.
When fleeing from the Bedawîn, and when in rebellion
.against the government, they find themselves perfectly safe
in its rocky recesses. They are consequently jealous of all
strangers, and they will not under any ordinary circumstan-
ces, guide travellers through its intricate and secret passes.
Argob, Trachonitis, or Lejah,-for by each name has it
been successively called, has been an asylum for all male-
factors and refugees ever since the time when Absalom fled
to it after the murder of his brother.
Being prevented from passing through the centre of the
Lejah, we turned westward to Edrei, hoping to be more
fortunate in obtaining guides there. The path along which
we were led was intricate, difficult, and in places even dan-
gerous. We had often to scramble over smooth ledges of
basalt, where our horses could scarcely keep their feet; and
these were separated by deep fissures and chasms, here and
there half filled with muddy water. A stranger would
have sought in vain for the road, if road it can be called.
In half an hour we reached the plain; and then continued to
ride along the side of the Lejah, whose boundary resembles
the rugged line of broken cliffs which gird a great part of
the eastern coast of England. The Hebrew name given to
it in the Bible is most appropriate, and shows how observ-
ant the sacred writers were. The word is Chebel, signify-
ing literally “a rope," but which describes with singular
accuracy the remarkably defined boundary line which en-
circles the whole province like a rocky shore.
We passed in succession the deserted towns of Kirâtah,
Taârah, and Duweireh, all built within the Lejah; and we
saw many others on the plain to the left, and among the
rocks on the right. We entered the town of Busr el-Har-
îry, but were received with such scowling looks and savage
threats and curses by its Moslem inhabitants, that we were
94
BASHAN AND ITS GIANT CITIES.
glad to effect our escape. We now felt that on leaving the
Druse territory we had left hospitality and welcome behind,
and that henceforth outbursts of Moslem fanaticism awaited
us everywhere.
EDREI.
Soon after leaving Busr, the towers of Edrei came in
sight, extending along the summit of a projecting ledge of
rocks in front, and running some distance into the interior
of the Lejah on the right. Crossing a deep ravine, and as-
cending the rugged ridge of rocks by a winding path like
a goat-track, we came suddenly on the ruins of this ancient
city. The situation is most remarkable :—without a single
spring of living water; without river or stream; without
access, except over rocks and through defiles all but im-
passable; without tree or garden. In selecting the site,
everything seems to have been sacrificed to security and
strength. Shortly after my arrival I went up to the ter-
raced roof of a house, to obtain a general view of the ruins.
Their aspect was far from inviting; it was wild and savage
in the extreme. The huge masses of shattered masonry
could scarcely be distinguished from the rocks that encir-
cle them; and all, ruins and rocks alike, are black, as if
scathed by lightning. I saw several square towers, and
remains of temples, churches, and mosques. The private
houses are low, massive, gloomy, and manifestly of the
highest antiquity. The inhabitants are chiefly Moslems;
but as there is a little Christian community, we selected
the house of their sheikh as our temporary residence.
Under the guidance of our host, we went out in the
afternoon to inspect the principal buildings of the city. A
crowd of fanatical Moslems gathered round, and followed
us wherever we went, trying every means to annoy and in-
sult us. We paid no attention to them, and hoped thus
to escape worse treatment. Unfortunately our hopes were
vain. I was suddenly struck down by a blow of a club
EDREI.
95
while copying an inscription. The crowd then rushed upon
us in a body with stones, clubs, swords, and knives.
I was
separated from my companions, pursued by some fifty or
sixty savages, all thirsting for my blood. After some hard
struggles, which I cannot look back to even yet without
a shudder, I succeeded in reaching our temporary home.
Here I found my companions, like myself, severely wound-
ed, and almost faint from loss of blood. Our Druse guard
defended the house till midnight, and then, thanks to a
merciful Providence, we made our escape from Edrei.
Edrei was the capital city of the giant Og. On the plain
beside it he marshalled his forces to oppose the advancing
host of the Israelites. He fell, his army was totally routed,
and Edrei was taken by the conquerors (Num. xxi. 33;
Deut. iii. 1-4). Probably it did not remain long in the
hands of the Israelites, for we hear no more of it in the
Bible. The monuments now found in it show that it was
one of the most important cities of Bashan in the time of
the Romans. After the Saracenic conquest, it gradually
dwindled down from a metropolitan city to a poor village;
and now, though the ruins are some three miles in circuit,
it does not contain more than five hundred inhabitants.
How applicable are the words of Ezekiel both to the phys-
ical and to the social state of Edrei!" Thus saith the
Lord,... Behold, I, even I, will bring a sword upon you,
and I will destroy your high places. . . . . In all your dwell-
ing-places the cities shall be laid waste, and the high places.
shall be desolate" (Ezek. vi. 3, 6). "I will bring the worst
of the heathen, and they shall possess their houses. . . . . Say
unto the people of the land, Thus saith the Lord God, .
They shall eat their bread with carefulness, and drink their
water with astonishment, . . . . because of the violence of all
them that dwell therein. Every one that passeth thereby
shall be astonished" (Ezek. vii. 24; xii. 19, &c.)
In darkness and silence we rode out of Edrei. For more
than an hour we were led through rugged and intricate
5
96
BASHAN AND ITS GIANT CITIES.
paths among the rocks, scarcely venturing to hope that we
should ever reach the plain in safety. We did reach it,
however, and with grateful hearts we rode on, guided by
the stars. Before long we were again entangled in the
rocky mazes of this wild region, and resolved, after several
vain attempts to get out, to wait for daylight. The night
wind was cold, bitterly cold; my wounds were stiff and
painful; and there was no shelter from the blast save that
of the shattered rocks. The spot, too, was neither safe nor
pleasant for a bivouac. The mournful howl of the jackal,
the sharp ringing bark of the wolf, and the savage growl of
the hyena, were heard all round us. Gradually they came
nearer and closer. Our poor horses quivered in every limb.
We were forced to keep marching round them; for we saw
by the bright starlight and the flashing eyes, that the
rocks on every side were tenanted with enemies almost as
dangerous and bloodthirsty as the men of Edrei. There I
knew for the first time what it was to spend a night with
the wild beasts; and there I had, too, a practical and pain-
ful illustration of Isaiah's remarkable prediction, "The wild
beasts of the desert shall also meet with the wild beasts of the
island, and the satyr shall cry to his fellow," &c. (Isa.
xxxiv. 14.)
Day-light came at last-not with the slow, stealing step
of the West, but with the swiftness and beauty of Eastern
climes. Mounting our jaded horses, we rode on between
huge black stones and crags of naked rock. Climbing to
the top of a little hill, we got a wide view over the Lejah.
I could only compare it to the ruins of a Cyclopean city
prostrate and desolate. There was not one pleasing fea-
ture. The very trees that grow amid the rocks have a
blasted look. Yet, strange as it may seem, this forbidding
region is thickly studded with ancient towns and villages,
long ago deserted. Passing through the Lejah to the
town of Khubab, we rode on northward along its border,
leaving the towns of Hazkin, Eib, Musmieh, and others, on
DESOLATION.
97
our right. They are all deserted, and there is not a single
inhabited spot east of Khubab. The rich and beautiful
plain on the north of the Lejah is now desolate as the
Lejah itself, and in a ride of ten miles we did not see a
human being. We pursued our route to Deir Ali, and
thence over the Pharpar, at Kesweh, to Damascus.
Thus ended my tour through eastern Bashan, and my
explorations of its giant cities.
Baeke
THE JORDAN AND THE DEAD SEA.
海
​JAVFR
"O my God,.
C
The Jordan and the Dead Sex.
•
I will remember thee from the land of Jordan, and of the Hermonites,
from the hill Mizar."-Ps. xlii. 6.
F
HERE is no river in the world like the Jordan;-
none so wonderful in its historic memories, none
so hallowed in its sacred associations, and none so
remarkable in its physical geography. It is THE
RIVER of the Holy Land. It has been more or less inti-
mately connected with all the great events of Scripture his-
tory from the patriarchs to the apostles. Its banks have
been the scene of the most stupendous miracles of judg-
ment, power, and love, ever the earth witnessed. When
the fire of heaven had burnt up Sodom's guilty cities and
polluted plain, the waters of the Jordan rolled over them
and buried them for ever from the face of man. Thrice
was the swollen torrent of that river stayed, and its chan-
nel divided to let God's people and prophets pass over “dry
shod." Once, at the bidding of the man of God, the iron
axe rose buoyant from its channel, and floated on its sur-
face. Once its waters gave forth healing virtue, as if to
prove to the proud Syrian chief the fallacy of his sneer-
ing exclamation,-" Are not Abana and Pharpar rivers of
Damascus better than all the waters of Israel ?" Greater
still were those miracles of our Lord which the evangelists
have grouped thickly on and around the central lake of the
Jordan. There did the storm-tossed billows hear and obey
the voice of their Creator; there did the incarnate God
walk upon the face of the deep; there, obedient to His will,
102
THE JORDAN AND THE DEAD SEA.
the fishes filled the disciples' nets; along those shores the
lame walked, the deaf heard, the blind saw, the sick were
healed, lepers were cleansed, the dead were raised to life
again. But the most glorious event the Jordan ever wit-
nessed was Christ's baptism; for when he was baptized,
"the heavens were opened unto him, and he saw the Spirit
of God descending like a dove, and lighting upon him ;" and
when the Divine Son was perfectly equipped for his great
work of redeeming love-when just about to set out on his
glorious mission-the voice of the Divine Father pierces
the vault of heaven, and proclaims to the astonished and
joyful disciples on Jordan's banks the divine approval of
both work and worker,-"This is my beloved Son, in whom
I am well pleased." Surely, then, we may say that every
spot along this stream is "holy ground," and that the name
Jordan is not only emblazoned on the page of history, but
enshrined in the Christian's heart.
It would almost seem as if nature or nature's God had
from the first prepared this river to be the scene of wond-
rous events, by giving to its physical geography some
wondrous characteristics. Its principal fountain, bursting
from the base of Hermon, is, like the mouths of other rivers,
on the level of the ocean.* It descends rapidly through its
whole course, and at length empties into the Dead Sea,
whose surface has a depression of no less than 1312 feet.
The whole valley of the Jordan is thus a huge rent or fis-
sure in the earth's crust. Though it is not much over a
hundred miles in length, at its southern end, along the
shores of that mysterious lake, we have the climate and
products of the tropics, while at its northern end on the
brow of Hermon, we have a region of perpetual snow.
*Some geographers give the fountain of Dan an elevation of 600, others 500, others 800
feet; but these seem to be erroneous, as I have shown in the article JORDAN, in "Kitto's
Cyclopædia," last edition.
THE FOUNTAINS.
103
THE FOUNTAINS.
It was on a bright and cloudless summer day I first
visited the fountains of the Jordan. On the preceding
night I slept on a snow wreath, on the very peak of Her-
mon. Beside me, in a hallowed rock, the fire of Baal had
often burnt in bygone ages, and around me were the great
stones of Baal's altar and the shattered ruins of a later tem-
ple. There I was enabled to prove for the first time how
accurate was the name given to this mount by the sacred
writers, Baal-Hermon (Judg. iii. 3; 1 Chron. v. 23). A no-
ble spot that was for the worship of the great fire-god. His
priests could see the sun rising from the eastern desert long
before his beams lighted up the plains below, and they
could see him sinking slowly in the western sea long after
he had set to the shores of Phoenicia; and then at night, on
that commanding peak, they could kindle a flame whose
light would flash far and wide over Syria and Palestine.
Wishing to realize something of the grandeur of those old
Baal-fires, we gathered a great quantity of the dry prickly
shrubs that cover the mountain sides, piled them up on
the rock where the fire used to burn, and applied a match.
The air was perfectly still, and the flame seemed to shoot
up into the very heavens, while Hermon's icy crown gleamed
and glittered in the ruddy light.
The descent from the top of Hermon to the fountains of
the Jordan was as if one had travelled in a single day from
Greenland to the equator. The heat was most oppressive
when, emerging from a wild mountain glen, we entered the
marshy plain of Merom. Away in front our guide pointed
out a little isolated tell, apparently in the centre of the
great plain,-"That," said he, "is Tell el-kady." We were
soon beside it, and tying up my horse beneath the shade of
a noble oak-a straggler from the forests of Bashan-I set
out to explore.
104
THE JORDAN AND THE DEAD SEA.
A
DAN.
The tell is cup-shaped, like an extinct crater, which it
perhaps may be, for the stones of the surrounding plain are
volcanic. From its western base bursts forth one of the
largest fountains in Syria, its waters forming a miniature
lake, and then rushing off across the plain southward a
deep rapid river. Within the tell, beneath the branches of
the great oak, is a smaller fountain, whose stream breaks
through the circling rim, and foaming down the side, joins
its sister. This is the principal source of the Jordan.
But the tell, has it no name in history, no story or legend
to attract the notice of the passing pilgrim or the Bible
student? It had once a historic name, which is not yet
quite gone; and its story is a long and a sad one. I wan-
dered over it wherever it was possible to go. I found a
few heaps of rubbish and old building stones, a few re-
mains of massive foundations, a few fragments of columns
almost buried in the soil, vast thickets of thorns, briars, and
gigantic thistles, some impenetrable jungles of cane and
thorn bushes, but nothing else; and yet this is the site of
the great border city of Dan. Upon this hill Jeroboam
built a temple, and set up in its shrine one of his golden
calves, thus polluting that "Holy Land" which the Lord
gave in covenant promise to the seed of Abraham. There-
fore has the curse come upon Dan. Though one of the
noblest sites in Palestine, though encompassed by a plain
of unrivalled fertility, it and its plain are now alike desolate.
The prophetic curse is fulfilled to the letter,-"In all your
dwelling places the cities shall be laid waste, and the high
places shall be desolate; that your altars may be laid waste
and made desolate, and your idols may be broken and cease,
and your works may be abolished" (Ezek. vi. 6).
It is interesting to note how the old name clings to the
spot still, though in an Arabic translation. Tell el-kady sig-
nifies "the hill of the judge," and the Hebrew word Dan
means "judge" (Gen. xlix. 16).
CÆSAREA PHILIPPI.
CÆSAREA PHILIPPI.
105
·
Half an hour across the plain, through pleasant forest
glades, bordered with myrtle, acacia, and oleander, and an-
other half hour up a rugged mountain side, beneath the
shade of Bashan's stately oaks, brought me to the site of
the old Greek city of Panium, which Herod the Great re-
built, and renamed Cæsarea-Philippi. This is one of the
very few really beautiful spots in Palestine. Behind rises
Hermon, steep, rugged, and grand, one of its lower peaks
crowned by the frowning battlements of a Phoenician cas-
tle. In front stretches out the broad plain of Merom, like
a vast meadow, and away beyond it is the mountain range
of Lebanon. The city stood upon a natural terrace, which
is interspersed with groves of oaks and olives and shrub-
beries of hawthorn, myrtle, and acacia, and is all alive with
streams of water and miniature cascades, fretting here and
there against prostrate column and ruined wall. It is, in
fact, as Dean Stanley has happily named it, a Syrian Tivoli.
Behind the ruins rises a cliff of ruddy limestone. At its
base is a dark cave, now nearly filled with the ruins of a
temple. From the cave, from the ruins, from every chink
and cranny in the soil and rocks around, waters gush forth,
which soon collect into a torrent, dash in sheets of foam
down a rocky bed, and at length plunge over a precipice.
into a deep dark ravine. This is the other great fountain
of the Jordan.
It is "holy ground," for Jesus was here. Beside the
fountain he uttered those memorable words, "Thou art
Peter, and upon this rock I will build my church" (Matt.
xvi. 18-20; xvii. 1-13). May not the sight of the great
cliff overhead have suggested the peculiar form of the ex-
pression? And we read that six days afterwards Christ
took three of his disciples, and led them "up into an high
mountain, and was transfigured before them." Standing
there amid the ruins of Cæsarea, one does not need to
T
106
THE JORDAN AND THE DEAD SEA.
ask where the Mount of Transfiguration is. IIermon, the
grandest and the most beautiful of all the mountains of
Palestine, has established its claim to the title of "holy
mount."
THE WATERS OF MEROM,
The streams from Dan and Cæsarea unite with several
others and flow into a little lake, which is called in Scrip-
ture the "waters of Merom." On the north and east it is
shut in by impenetrable marshes, but on the south-west is
a considerable expanse of higher plain and rolling downs,
above which, on the mountain side, are the ruins of the
great city of IIazor. Here Jabin, the head of the northern
Canaanitish tribes, assembled all his forces and numerous
allies, and drew up his war chariots and cavalry, for a final
attempt to drive back the Israelites. But God fought for
Israel. The attack was sudden, and the route complete.
When I stood on the mountain-brow, near the ruins of that
royal city, and looked down on the battle-field hemmed in
by the river, the lake, the marshes, and the mountains, I
saw how the panic-stricken Canaanites, with their horses
and chariots, would be hurled together in confused and
helpless masses on the marshy plain and in the narrow ra-
vines, and would become an easy prey to the victorious Is-
raelites, who "smote them until they left them none re-
maining, . . . . and houghed their horses, and burned their
chariots with fires" (Josh. xi). This victory virtually com-
pleted the conquest of Palestine.
A few miles below the lake the Jordan is spanned by the
"Bridge of Jacob's Daughters," a name for which it is
not easy to account. So far the Jordan glides lazily along
through a grassy vale, between reedy banks, on which the
buffalo and the wild swine find a fitting home; but at the
bridge the vale becomes a wild ravine, and the sluggish
stream a foaming torrent. Along its banks I rode, guided
by an Arab chief, now following the windings of the chan-
SEA OF GALILEE.
107
nel, now crossing a high projecting bluff. The mad river
never rests until, breaking from its rocky barriers, it enters
the rich plain of Bethsaida,-that Bethsaida near which
Jesus fed the five thousand with five loaves (Luke ix. 10).
After a passing visit to the desolate site, I continued my
journey, and found my tent pitched at the mouth of the
Jordan.
THE SEA OF GALILEE.
It was a lovely spot. I sat there in my tent-door, and
looked long and eagerly over one of the most interesting
panoramas in the world. There was nothing to disturb
me,—no din of human life, no jarring sound of human toil
.or struggle. The silence was profound. Even nature
seemed to have fallen asleep. The river glided noiselessly
past, and the sea was spread out before me like a polished
mirror, reflecting from its glassy bosom the gorgeous tints
of the evening sky; and both sea and river were fringed
with a bright border of oleander flowers. East of the lake,
the side of Bashan's lofty plateau rose as a mountain chain;
and at its northern end my eye rested on the very scene of
that miracle of mercy, where thousands were fed; and at
its southern end, on that of the miracle of judgment, where
"the whole herd of swine ran violently down a stcep place,
and perished in the waters." Away on the west the shat-
tered ramparts of Tiberias seemed to rise out of the bosom
of the lake, and behind them a dark mountain, in whose
caverned cliffs repose the ashes of many a learned rabbin,
while over all appeared the graceful rounded top of Tabor.
Farther to the right, on the white strand, I saw the huts of
Magdala, with the coast of Gennesaret extending from it
northward to Capernaum,-Christ's own city. Far on into
the night I sat by the silent shore of Galilee, gazing, now
on the dark outlines of hill and mountain, now on the cres-
cent moon, as she rose in her splendour, and now on the
bright stars, as they hung trembling in the deep dark vault
of heaven.
108
THE JORDAN AND THE DEAD SEA.
"All things were calm, and fair, and passive. Earth
Looked as if lulled upon an angel's lap
Into a breathless dewy sleep; so still,
That I could only say of things, they be!
The lakelet now, no longer vexed with gusts,
Replaced upon her breast the pictured moon,
Pearled round with stars."
CHORAZIN, BETHSAIDA, AND CAPERNA UM.
Before the morning sun o'ertopped the hills of Bashan I
was in the saddle. A ride of three miles westward along
the shore brought me to the ruins of a large town. It was
encompassed by such a dense jungle of thorns, thistles, and
rank weeds, that I had to employ some shepherds to open
a passage for me. Clambering to the top of a shattered.
wall I was able to overlook the whole site. What a scene
of desolation was that! Not a house, not a wall, not a
solitary pillar remains standing. Broken columns, hewn
stones, sculptured slabs of marble, and great shapeless
heaps of rubbish, Iralf concealed by thorns and briars, alone
serve to mark the site of a great and rich city. The Ara-
bian does not pitch his tent there, the shepherd does not
feed his flock there, not a sound fell upon my ear as I
stood amid those ruins save the gentle murmur of each wave
as it broke upon the pebbly beach, and the mournful sigh-
ing of the summer breeze through sun-scorched branches;
yet that is the place where CHORAZIN once stood! Chora-
zin heard but rejected the words of mercy from the lips of
its Lord, and he pronounced its doom,-"Woe unto thee,
Chorazin!" (Matt. xi. 21).
After riding some three miles farther along the lake I
reached a little retired bay, with a pebbly strand,-just
such a place as fishermen would delight to draw up their
boats and spread out their nets upon. Here were numerous
fountains, several old tanks and aqueducts, great heaps of
rubbish, and fields of ruin. Two Arab tents were pitched
a little way up on the hill side, but I saw no other trace
there of human habitation or human life; and yet that
CAPERNAUM.
109
is the site of Bethsaida,-the city of Andrew and Peter,
James and John (John i. 44; Matt. iv. 8; Luke v. 10).
Upon this strand Jesus called his first disciples. Like
Chorazin, this city heard and rejected his words, and like
Chorazin, it has been left desolate. "Woe unto thee, Beth-
saida!"
A few minutes more and I reached the brow of a bluff pro-
montory, which dips into the bosom of the lake. Before
At my
me now opened up the fertile plain of Gennesaret.
feet, beneath the western brow of the cliff, a little fountain
burst from a rocky basin. A fig-tree spreads its branches
over it, and gives it a name,-Ain-et-Tin, "the fountain of
the fig." Beside it are some massive foundations, scarcely
distinguishable amid the rank weeds, and away beyond it,
almost covered with thickets of thorns, briars, and gigantic
thistles, I saw large heaps of ruins and rubbish. These are
all that now mark the site of Capernaum. Christ's words.
are fulfilled to the letter,-"And thou, Capernaum, which
art exalted unto heaven, shall be brought down to hell"
(Matt. xi. 23).
On that day I climbed a peak which commands the lake,
and the Jordan valley up to the waters of Merom. The
principal scene of Christ's public labours lay around me—a
region some thirty miles long by ten wide. When He had
his home at Capernaum, the whole country was teeming
with life, and bustle, and industry. No less than ten large
cities, with numerous villages, studded the shores of the
lake, and the plains and the hill-sides around. The water
was all speckled with the dark boats and white sails of
Galilee's fishermen. Eager multitudes followed the foot-
steps of Jesus, through the city streets, over the flower-
strewn fields, along the pebbly beach. What a woeful
change has passed over the land since that time! The
Angel of destruction has been there. From that command-
ing height, through the clear Syrian atmosphere, I was
able to distinguish, by the aid of my glass, every spot in
7
110
THE JORDAN AND THE DEAD SEA.
that wide region, celebrated in sacred history, or hallowed
by sacred association. My eye swept the lake from north
to south, from east to west; not a single sail, not a solitary
boat was there. My eye swept the great Jordan valley,
the little plains, the glens, the mountain sides from base to
summit—not a city, not a village, not a house, not a sign of
settled habitation was there, except the few huts of Mag-
dala, and the shattered houses of Tiberias. A mournful and
solitary silence reigned triumphant. Desolation keeps un-
broken Sabbath in Galilee now. Nature has lavished on
the country some of her choicest gifts;—a rich soil, a ge-
nial climate; but the curse of heaven has come upon it be-
cause of the sin of man. I saw how wondrously time has
changed a prophetic sentence into a graphic reality. "I
will make your cities waste, saith the Lord; I will bring
the land into desolation. I will scatter you among the hea-
then. Upon the land shall come up thorns and briars; yea,
upon all the houses of joy in the joyous city. So that
the generation to come of your children that shall rise up
after you, and the stranger that shall come from a far land,
shall say, when they see the plagues of that land, Wherefore
hath the Lord done thus unto this land? What meaneth
the heat of this great anger?" (Lev. xxvi.; Deut. xxix.;
Isa. xxxii.)
THE LOWER JORDAN.
Between the Lake of Galilee and the Dead Sea lies a long
deep valley, varying from five to ten miles in breadth, and
shut in by the parallel mountain ranges of Samaria and
Gilead. Down the centre of this valley, in the bed of a
deep ravine, winds the river Jordan. It has two distinct
lines of banks. The first or lower banks confine the stream,
are comparatively low, generally alluvial, and thickly
fringed with foliage. The second, or upper banks are at
some distance from the channel-occasionally nearly half a
mile apart, and in places they rise to a height of one hund-
SCENE OF CHRIST'S BAPTISM.
111
red and fifty feet. The appearance of the river itself is ex-
ceedingly varied. Now it sweeps gracefully round a green
meadow, softly kissing with its rippling waves the blushing
flowers of the oleander as they bend over it ;-now it clasps
a wooded islet in its shining arms;-now fretted by project-
ing cliffs, and opposed by rocky ledges, it dashes madly
forward in sheets of foam.
One bridge alone spans the river, on the road which
joins the ancient cities of Bethshean and Gadara. But the
ruins of many others are visible, and the fords are numer-
ous. Of the latter, one of the most remarkable is Succoth,
where Jacob crossed with his flocks and herds (Gen. xxxiii.
17), and where the fleeing hosts of Zebah and Zalmunna
suffered so terribly from the Israelites (Judges vii. 24, sq.;
viii. 4-10). The plain around Succoth is abundantly wat-
ered by fountains and streamlets from the mountains. The
soil is exceedingly rich. Dr. Robinson says of it, "The
grass intermingled with tall daisies and wild oats, reached
to our horses' backs, while the thistles sometimes over-
topped the riders' heads." Jacob showed his usual worldly
wisdom, when he encamped at this favoured spot, and
"made booths (Succoth) for his cattle."
But the most interesting spot on the Jordan is unques-
tionably that now called the "pilgrims' bathing-place," op-
posite Jericho. Here the channel is deep, the current rapid,
and yet, on three different occasions, the river was stayed
by a miracle, and the channel left dry, to let God's people.
pass over.
And an interest still higher and holier clings to
it. It is the scene of Christ's baptism. Sitting here one
day on the river's bank, beneath the shade of a great wil-
low tree, I read in succession the Bible narratives of the
passage of the Israelites under Joshua, of the translation of
Elijah, and of the baptism of Jesus; and then looking up on
those grey bluffs that bound the narrow ravine, I involun-
tarily exclaimed, "Oh, that my eyes had seen those glorious
events of which you were the witnesses! Oh, that the
112
THE JORDAN AND THE DEAD SEA.
eye of sense had witnessed what the eye of faith now con-
templates!--The marshalled hosts of Israel; the ark on
which rested the Shekinah glory; then the fiery Chariot
bearing God's prophet to heaven; and last of all, the
Dove,' the Heavenly Dove, coming down and abiding upon
the Saviour."
(
It was in the month of April I visited this "holy place"
on the Jordan. It was already the time of harvest, for
the people of Jericho were reaping their little fields up on
the plain. And we are told that "Jordan overfloweth all
his banks all the time of harvest" (Joshua iii. 15; 1 Chron.
xii. 15). The fact is still true, though Palestine is changed.
The heavy rains of early spring falling on the northern
mountains, and the winter snow melting on the sides of
Hermon, send a thousand tributaries to the sacred river.
It rises to the top of the lower banks, and when I was
there, the ruddy, swollen waters had flowed over and cov-
ered portions of the verdant meadows on each side.
Mounting my horse, I followed the tortuous river to its
mouth, and saw it empty its waters into that sea of death.
One would almost think they flow in reluctantly, for the
current becomes slower and slower, and the channel wider
and wider, till at length water touches water, and the Jor-
dan is lost. Such is this sacred river, without a parallel,
historical or physical, in the whole world. A complete
river beneath the level of the ocean, disappearing in a
lake which has no outlet, and which could have none. In
whatever way we regard it, the Jordan stands alone.
THE DEAD SEA.
The Dead Sea fills up the southern end of the Jordan val-
ley. It is about fifty miles in length from north to south,
by ten in breadth. The mountain chains which shut in the
valley become here steeper, wilder, and bleaker. In some
places they rise in lofty precipices of naked rock from the
bosom of the waters; in others they retire, forming wild
SCENERY OF THE DEAD SEA.
113
nooks and yawning ravines, fitting homes for the wild goats
which still inhabit them. The scenery of the lake is bare
and desolate, but grand. The water is clear and spark-
ling, deep and beautiful azure when the sky is cloudless,
but reflecting vividly every changing hue of the firmament.
In summer, when the heat is intense, a thin, whitish quiver-
ing vapour hangs over the surface of the water, and gives
a strange dreamy indistinctness to the mountains. At the
northern and southern ends, the flat plains are parched, and
barren, in part covered with fine sand, and in part with a
white nitrous coating like hoar frost. Brackish and sulphur
springs occur at intervals around the whole borders of the
lake. Some of them are warm, and send up clouds of
steam. At one or two places along the western shore, and
also at the southern end of the lake are slimy pools and
marshes, whose exhalations of sulphuretted-hydrogen taint
the atmosphere for miles. Strewn along the northern shore,
especially near the mouth of the Jordan, lie large quanti-
ties of drift wood, brought down by the swollen river, and
it is everywhere encrusted with salt crystals. The great
depression, the fierce rays of an unclouded sun, the white
mountain chains on each side, and the white soil below re-
flecting the sun's rays, give the whole basin of the Dead
Sea a temperature like that of a furnace. Never did I
suffer so much from intense suffocating heat as during the
days I spent on the shores of the lake.
Yet still it cannot be called a "sea of death," in that
sense in which travellers in former ages were wont to re-
present it. It has been stated that no vegetation could
exist along its shores, and that no bird could fly over it;
that, in fact, its poisonous exhalations are fatal alike to ani-
mal and vegetable life. This is altogether untrue. At
every little fountain along the shores, the vegetation has a
tropical luxuriance. I have seen the oleander dipping its
gorgeous flowers into the lake; and I have seen the willow
and the tamarisk, and numerous other shrubs flourishing
114
THE JORDAN AND THE DEAD SEA.
where their stems were at certain seasons immersed in the
waters. The cane-brakes on the shore abound with wild
fowl; and occasionally flocks of ducks may be seen swim-
ming far out on the sea. The water, however, is intolera-
bly salt and bitter, and no fish could live in it. Yet it is
not altogether destitute of living creatures, a few inferior
organizations having been found in it by recent naturalists.
Its specific gravity is so great that the human body will
not sink in it. I have tried it myself, and can, therefore,
testify to the truth of the fact. This is easily accounted
for. The weight of water increases in proportion to the
quantity of salt it contains in solution. Ordinary sea water
has about four per cent. of salt, whilst that of the Dead Sea
contains more than twenty-six per cent.
The Dead Sea is thus a physical wonder, and, strange to
say, it is also a historical wonder. It would appear that
in ancient times, it was much smaller than it is at present,
leaving room for a large and fertile plain on which the
cities of Sodom, Gomorrah, Admah, and Zeboim once
stood (compare Gen. xiii. 10-12). The cities were burned
by fire from heaven, and the whole plain, or, as it was
called, "the vale of Siddim" (xiv. 8), was covered with
water (xiv. 3). Recent explorations of the sea and of the
surrounding region tend, I believe, to throw some light on
one of the most remarkable events of physical geography
and of Biblical history. The northern section of the lake,
from the mouth of the Jordan to the promontory of Lisân,
is immensely deep, varying from forty to two hundred and
eighteen fathoms. But the whole southern section is shal-
low, only a few feet of water covering an extensive flat,
in which bitumen pits, and bituminous limestone abound.
The latter appears to have been the plain of Sodom, for we
learn from Gen. xix. 27, 28, that the plain was visible from
a hill-top near Hebron, which would not be true of any part
of the Jordan valley north of En-gedi. The Bible further
informs us that "the vale of Siddim was full of slime pits,"
1
DESTRUCTION OF SODOM.
115
that is, pits or wells of bitumen (xiv. 10). Now we know
that bitumen burns like oil, and bituminous limestone is
also inflammable. May not the houses of Sodom and the
other cities have been built of the latter, and, like the tower
of Babel, cemented with the former? And if so, when once
ignited by fire from heaven, they would burn rapidly and
fiercely,-nay, the whole plain filled with its bitumen pits,
and strewn with inflammable stones, would burn like a
coal-field. How strikingly does this seem to illustrate the
words of Scripture,-" And Abraham gat up early in the
morning (from his tent at Mamre) to the place where he
stood before the Lord (compare xviii. 16, 22), And he looked
toward Sodom and Gomorrah and toward all the land of
the plain, and behold, and lo, the smoke of the country went
up as the smoke of a furnace" (Gen. xix. 27,
28).
Cly
اقل من ساع لوله
وي
JERUSALEM AND ITS ENVIRONS.
2222
کاری
Jerusalem.
"Beautiful for situation, the joy of the whole earth, is Mount Zion, on the sides of the
north, the city of the great King."-Ps. xlviii. 2.
T is not strange that my first night on the Mount
of Olives was sleepless. Though the preceding
night had been spent in the saddle, and the pre-
ceding day in fatiguing travel, yet the vision of
Jerusalem, which I had that day seen for the first time, re-
mained so vivid before my mind's eye, that it banished all
thought of sleep and all sense of fatigue. For hours I lay
absorbed in the stirring memories of the distant past, which
holy scenes had called up and invested with the charm of
reality. Mount Zion,-Moriah, crowned of yore with the
halo of the Shekinah glory,-Gethsemane, bedewed with
the tears, and stained by the bloody-sweat of the Son of
man,―Olivet, where Jesus so often taught and prayed,—
they were all there, each with its wondrous story written as
if in letters of light. Longing for the morning, I once and
again rose from my bed and threw open the lattice. The
stars hung out like diamond lamps from the black vault
of heaven, shining with a sparkling lustre unknown in our
hazy west, and revealing in dim outline the walls and tow-
ers of the Holy City sleeping peacefully away below.
I was specially favoured during my first visit to Jeru-
salem. An old friend had rented a little tower high up on
6
120
JERUSALEM AND ITS ENVIRONS.
the western side of Olivet, commanding a noble view of the
Holy City and the surrounding country from Bethlehem to
Mizpeh. It was one of those square turrets which in re-
cent, as in ancient times, proprietors sometimes built in
their vineyards as residences for keepers and temporary
store-houses for fruit (Isa. v. 2; Matt. xxi. 33). Here I
took up my quarters, and from the open window or the ter-
raced roof, at all hours, day and night, I gazed on that
wondrous landscape. During the soft, ruddy morning
twilight,—at the full blaze of noon-day,—in the dead still-
ness of night, when the moon shed her silver rays on the
white walls and roofs of the city, my eyes were upon it,—
never wearying, never satisfied, but ever detecting some
new beauty in tint or form, some fresh spot of sacred inter-
est or historic renown. While I live I can never forget
that view of
JERUSALEM FROM THE MOUNT OF OLIVES.
Morning dawned; and with my kind host, to whom every
spot in and around Jerusalem was familiar, I ascended to
the terraced roof. Behind Olivet, on the east, the sky was
all aglow with red light, which shot slanting across the
hill-tops and projecting cliffs, and upon the walls and prom-
inent buildings of the city, throwing them up in bold re-
lief from the deeply shaded glens. No time could have
been more opportune, no spot better fitted for seeing and
studying the general topography of the Holy City. The
whole site was before us, distinct and full, like a vast and
beautiful embossed picture. At our feet, along the base of
Olivet, was the Kidron, a deep and narrow glen, coming
down from an undulating plateau on the right, and disap-
pearing round the shoulder of the hill on the left; its banks
terraced, and dotted here and there with little groves and
single olive trees. Directly opposite us was Mount Moriah,
its bare sides rising precipitously from the bottom of the
Kidron to a height of some two hundred feet. On its sum-
THE SITE OF THE TEMPLE.
121
mit is a rectangular platform, about thirty acres in extent,
and taking up fully one-half of the eastern side of the city.
It is encompassed and supported by a massive wall, in some
places nearly eighty feet high, and looking even higher
where it impends over the ravine. This platform consti-
tutes by far the most striking feature of the city. It is
unique. There is nothing like it in the world. Its history,
too, is wonderful. It has been " a holy place" for more
than thirty centuries. Its Cyclopean walls were founded
by Solomon. Upon it stood the Temple, in whose shrine
the Glory of the Lord so often appeared, and in whose
courts the Son of God so often taught. It is still to the
Muslem el-Haram esh-Sherif, "the noble sanctuary," and,
next to Mecca, the most venerated sanctuary in the world.
The platform itself-simple, massive, and grand-is a
striking object; but the buildings it contains greatly con-
tribute to its beauty. In its centre, on a raised area of
white marble, stands one of the most splendid mosques in
the world, octagonal in form, encrusted with encaustic tiles.
of gorgeous colours, and surmounted by a graceful dome.
From its area the ground slopes away to the encircling
ramparts in gentle undulations of green turf, diversified
with marble arcades, gilded cupolas, fountains and prayer-
niches; and interspersed with venerable cypresses, olives,
and palms. At the southern end is a large group of stately
buildings, including the Mosque el-Aksa, once the Church
of the Virgin; and round the sides of the platform are clois-
ters, here and there covered with domes, and surmounted
by tall minarets. The quiet seclusion of this sanctuary, the
rich green of its grass and foliage, the dazzling whiteness
of its pavements and fountains, the brilliant tints of the
central mosque, and, above all, its sacred associations, make
it one of the most charming and interesting spots on earth.
Just behind Moriah the Tyropean Valley was distinctly
marked by a deeply-shaded belt, running from north to
south through the city. Beyond it rose Zion, higher and
122
JERUSALEM AND ITS ENVIRONS.
longer than Moriah; in front, a confused mass of terraced
roofs, tier above tier; farther back are seen the white
buildings of the Armenian Convent, like an immense fac-
tory; more to the right the new English church; and in the
background, crowning the hill, the massive square keep of
the Castle of David. The southern section of Zion is now
outside the city wall; and there a high minaret and cupola
mark the tomb of David. From it the hill sinks into the
Valley of Hinnom in steep terraced slopes, covered with
vineyards, olives, and corn-fields. As I looked, a moving
object in one of the fields rivetted my attention. "Haste,
give me the glass," I said. I turned it upon the spot.
Yes, I was right; a plough and yoke of oxen were there at
work. Jeremiah's prophecy was fulfilled before my eyes:
"Zion shall be ploughed like a field" (xxvi. 18).
Along the further side of Zion runs the deep glen of Hin-
nom, which, turning eastward, sweeps round the southern
end of the hill and joins the Kidron at En-Rogel. These
two ravines form the great physical boundaries and bar-
riers of Jerusalem; they completely cut it off from the sur-
rounding table-land; and they isolate the hills on which
it stands, and those other hills, too, or hill-tops, which as
the Psalmist tells us, are round about Jerusalem" (cxxv.
2). These natural barriers also served to confine the city
within regular and definite limits-to prevent it from send-
ing forth straggling suburbs and offshoots as most other
cities do; hence it was said, "Jerusalem is builded as a city
that is compact together" (Ps. cxxii. 3).
(C
A high battlemented wall encompasses the modern city.
It runs for half a mile along the brow of the Kidron valley,
facing Olivet, then turns at right angles and zigzags across
Moriah, the Tyropean, and Zion to the brow of Hinnom.
The whole circuit is two miles and a half. The city was
always fortified, and the walls and towers formed its most
prominent features. Hence the language of the exulting
Psalmist, "Walk about Zion, and go round about her: tell
SCENERY OF THE ENVIRONS.
123
the towers thereof, mark ye well her bulwarks." Jerusalem
has no suburbs. There is no shading off of the city into
the country-long streets radiating from a centre, then
straggling houses, and villas, and gardens, such as we are
accustomed to see in English towns. The moment you pass
the gates of Jerusalem you are in the country—a country
open, bare, without a single house, and almost desolate.
Not a green spot is visible, and not a tree, save here and
there a little clump of gnarled, dusky olives. Rounded
hill-tops, and long reaches of plain, strewn with heaps of
grey limestone, extend from the walls far away to the
north and south. There is no grandeur, beauty, or rich-
ness in the scenery. It is bleak and featureless. Hence
the sad disappointment felt by most travellers on approach-
ing Jerusalem from the west and north. They can only see
the serried line of grey Saracenic walls extending across a
section of a bleak, rocky plateau. But when I stood that
morning on the brow of Olivet, and looked down on the
city, crowning those battlemented heights, encircled by
those deep and dark ravines, I involuntarily exclaimed,-
"Beautiful for situation, the joy of the whole earth, is
Mount Zion, the city of the great King" (Ps. xlviii. 2).
And as I gazed, the red rays of the rising sun shed a halo
round the top of the Castle of David; then they tipped
with gold each tapering minaret, and gilt each dome of
mosque and church; and at length bathed in one flood of
ruddy light the terraced roofs of the city, and the grass
and foliage, the cupolas, pavements, and colossal walls of
the Haram.-No human being could be disappointed who
first saw Jerusalem from Olivet.
WALKS THROUGH THE CITY.
In the eastern wall there is but one gate, and all the
paths from Olivet and Bethany meet there. Instead of
entering, however, we turn to the left, and soon reach the
The
square tower on the north-east angle of the Haram.
124
JERUSALEM AND ITS ENVIRONS.
enormous size of the stones in the lower courses of the ma-
sonry-some of them being more than twenty feet long-
and the moulding of their edges, prove that the building
was founded not later than the time of Herod, and proba-
bly much earlier. It was one of the external defences of
the fortress of Antonia, where the Roman garrison was
quartered, and in which was Pilate's "Judgment Hall"
where our Lord was condemned (Matt. xxvii. 19).
Proceeding southwards, we reach an ancient gate, which,
though now walled up, is the most striking object on this
side of the city. Travellers usually call it "The Golden
Gate;" but its florid capitals and entablatures, and its de-
based Corinthian columns and pilasters are not older than
the fourth century; and, consequently, it cannot be reck-
oned one of the gates of the temple.
The Valley of Judgment- Muslem tradition. After
passing the gate, my companion directed my attention to the
end of a granite column projecting from the wall far over-
head, to which the Mohammedans have attached a curious
tradition. On it, they say, their Prophet will sit on the
last day to direct the work of the final judgment in the
valley beneath. That part of the tradition which locates
the judgment in the Kidron, or "Valley of Jehoshaphat,"
they have borrowed from the Jews, and it has its origin in
a misinterpretation of Joel iii. 12. But be this as it may,
the belief exercises a powerful influence alike on Jews and
Mohammedans. The favourite burying-place of the latter
is the narrow ledge outside the Haram wall, on the brow
of the Kidron; and the Jews often travel from the ends
of the earth that they may lay their bones in the vast ceme-
try which covers the opposite bank of the ravine.
The Pinnacle of the Temple.-The south-eastern angle
of the Haram is a most interesting relic of ancient Jerusa-
lem. It is nearly eighty feet high. In its lower part are
sixteen courses of bevelled stones, forming one of the finest
specimens of masonry in the world. The joints are so
-
PINNACLE OF THE TEMPLE.
125
close, and the finish of the moulding so perfect, that when
new it must have produced the effect of relievo panelling.
On looking at this noble work, the narrative in Mark xiii.
assumed a fresh interest for me:-" And as He went out of
the temple, one of His disciples saith unto Him, Master,
See what manner of stones and what buildings are here."
The "chief corner-stones" surpass all the others in size and
finish. They measure twenty feet by six, and are designed
alike for strength and beauty. How graphic must the
words of Isaiah have been to the old Jews who frequented
the temple courts, and were familiar with these colossal
stones! "Behold I lay in Zion for a foundation, a stone,
a tried stone, a precious corner-stone, a sure foundation"
(xxviii. 16); and how beautifully expressive is the language
of the Psalmist!" Our daughters as corner-stones, polished
after the similitude of a palace" (exliv. 12).
The angle springs from the very brow of the valley; and
upon its summit stood, in Herod's time, a splendid tower,
uniting the royal cloisters which ran along the southern side
of the temple court, to the cloisters or "porch" of Solomon,
(John x. 23), which occupied the eastern side. Josephus
thus describes the stupendous height of this tower:-" If
any one looked down from the top of the battlements, or
down both those altitudes, he would be giddy, while his
sight could not reach to such an immense depth." There
can be little doubt that this was "the pinnacle of the tem-
ple" on which Satan placed our Lord in the temptation
(Matt. iv.)
Turning the corner, we walked on to the place where
the modern city wall meets the ancient Haram wall at
right angles; and just at the point of junction we observed
part of an old gateway. We examined it in passing; but
at a subsequent period I was enabled to explore it thor-
oughly inside and out. The gate is double, and formerly
opened into a long tunnelled passage, leading up by an in-
clined plane and steps to the centre of the IIaram.
It was
126
JERUSALEM AND ITS ENVIRONS.
evidently intended for the accommodation of the inhabitants
of the lower part of the city; probably for the Nethinims
and others who lived down in Ophel, to give them easy
access to the temple (Neh. iii. 26; xi. 21).
Solomon's "Ascent" to the Temple.-There is no gate
in the city wall near the Haram, and we must, consequent-
ly, pass round towards Zion to a little postern which is
usually open upon Fridays. Entering by it, we suddenly
find ourselves in a wilderness of ruins and rubbish heaps,
overgrown with rank weeds and straggling jungles of the
giant cactus. The shattered and half-ruinous houses of the
Jewish quarter are away up on the left, clinging to the
precipitous side of Zion. A tortuous path, encumbered with
filth, and noisome with the putrid remains of cats, dogs,
camels, and other animals, winds through this scene of des-
olation. As we pass along, we cannot but recall the words
of Micah, for his prediction is fulfilled before our eyes:-
"Therefore shall Zion for your sake be plowed as a field,
and Jerusalem shall become heaps, and the mountain of the
house as the high places of the forest" (iii. 12). At length
we reach the south-west angle of the Haram, and feel am-
ply repaid for a toilsome and unpleasant walk. The ma-
sonry here is even grander than that of the other angle,
and the "corner-stones" are still more colossal; one meas-
ures thirty feet by six and a half! This angle stands on
the brow of the Tyropean valley, which separated Moriah
from Zion, but which is now in a great measure filled up
with rubbish.
Some forty feet from the angle, on the western side, are
three courses of colossal masonry projecting from the wall,
and forming the springing stones of a large arch. These
stones have within the last few years attracted no little
attention, and given rise to no small amount of controversy.
And this is not strange, for they are unquestionably a rem
nant of the bridge that once connected Moriah and Zion.
Calculating by the curve of the part which remains, we find
SOLOMON'S BRIDGE.
127
that the span of the arch must have been about forty feet,
and five such arches would be required to cross the Tyro-
pean. That the bridge existed in our Lord's time we learn
from Josephus. It is also mentioned during the siege by
Pompey twenty years before Herod was made king. The
exact date of the fragment still remaining, cannot, of course,
be precisely fixed. One thing, however, is certain, that it
is coeval with the massive foundations of the southern an-
gles of the Haram. One of the three courses is five feet
four inches high, the others are a little less. One of the
stones is twenty-four feet long, another twenty, and the
rest in proportion. The Cyclopean dimensions, and peculiar
character of the masonry, indicate a far higher antiquity
than Herod the Great, and would seem to point back to
the earliest age of the Jewish monarchy. We read in 1
Kings vii. 10, that the foundations of Solomon's temple
were formed of “costly stones, even great stones; stones of
ten cubits, and stones of eight cubits.... And the great
court round about was with three rows of hewed stones."
In three passages of Scripture a remarkable "ascent," or
causeway,” is mentioned, leading from the palace to the
temple, and specially intended for the use of the king
(1 Kings x. 5; 1 Chron. xxvi. 16; 2 Chron. ix. 4). May we
not identify this "ascent" with the
" with the "viaduct" which, ac-
cording to Josephus, connected the royal palace on Zion
with the temple court? Such a monument of genius and
power might well make a deep impression on the mind of
the Queen of Sheba in that remote age; and thus a new
interest is attached to the story:-" And when the Queen
of Sheba had seen the wisdom of Solomon, and the house
he had built,... and his ascent by which he went up into
the house of the Lord, there was no more spirit in her.”
(6
What a train of associations, holy and historic, and what
a crowd of feelings, joyous and sorrowful, do these few
stones awaken! Over the noble bridge which they sup-
ported, marched in solemn splendour the kings and princes
128
JERUSALEM AND ITS ENVIRONS.
of Israel, to worship God in IIis temple. Over it, too, hum-
ble and despised, often passed the Son of God himself, to
carry a message of heavenly peace to a rebel world. Upon
its shattered arch the victorious Titus once stood, and
pointing to the burning temple behind him, made a final
appeal to the remnant of the Jews on Zion to lay down
their arms and save themselves from slaughter by submis-
sion to Rome. Now, temple, bridge, and palace are all
gone. Within the precincts of the temple-court no Jew
dare set his foot; and on the site of the royal palace the
wretched dwellings of that poor despised race are huddled
together in misery and in squalor.
The Place of Wailing.-Entering the inhabited part of
the old city, and winding through some crooked filthy
lanes, I suddenly found myself, on turning a sharp corner,
in a spot of singular interest;—the "Jew's place of wail-
ing." It is a small paved quadrangle; on one side are the
backs of low modern houses, without door or window; on
the other is the lofty wall of the Haram, of recent date
above, but having below five courses of bevelled stones in a
perfect state of preservation. Here the Jews are permitted
to approach the sacred enclosure, and wail over the fallen
temple, whose very dust is dear to them, and in whose
stones they still take pleasure (Ps. cii. 14). It was Friday,
and a crowd of miserable devotees had assembled-men and
women of all ages and all nations, dressed in the quaint
costumes of every country of Europe and Asia. Old men
were there,-pale, haggard, careworn men, tottering on
pilgrim staves; and little girls with white faces, and lus-
trous black eyes, gazing wistfully now at their parents, now
at the old wall. Some were on their knees, chanting
mournfully from a book of Hebrew prayers, swaying their
bodies to and fro; some were prostrate on the ground,
pressing forehead and lips to the earth; some were close to
the wall, burying their faces in the rents and crannies of
the old stones; some were kissing them, some had their
129
arms spread out as if they would clasp them to their bo-
soms, some were bathing them with tears, and all the while
sobbing as if their hearts would burst. It was a sad and
touching spectacle. Eighteen centuries of exile and woe
have not dulled their hearts' affections, or deadened their
feelings of national devotion. Here we see them assembled
from the ends of the earth, poor, despised, down-trodden
outcasts,―amid the desolations of their fatherland, beside
the dishonoured ruins of their ancient sanctuary,-chant-
ing, now in accents of deep pathos, and now of wild woe,
the prophetic words of their own Psalmist,-"O God, the
heathen are come into thine inheritance; thy holy temple
have they defiled..... We are become a reproach to our
neighbours, a scorn and derision to them that are round
about us. How long, Lord? Wilt thou be angry for
ever?" (Ps. lxxix. 1, 4, 5).
JEW'S PLACE OF WAILING.
"L
Oh, weep for those that wept by Babel's stream,
Whose shrines are desolate, whose land a dream;
Weep for the harp of Judah's broken shell;
Mourn where their God hath dwelt, the godless dwell!"
The Temple and its Court.-After two or three attempts
to get a peep at the sacred enclosure through the open
gateways, where we met with a somewhat rude reception
from the guardian dervishes, we passed on to the Serai,
or Pasha's palace, at the north-west corner. My compan-
ion had the entrée, and we were soon on the terraced roof
which commands the whole Haram. From this point the
various buildings are seen to great advantage. I was
struck with the chasteness of design, and wonderful minute-
ness and delicacy of detail, in the Saracenic architecture.
The central mosque is a perfect gem. The encaustic tiles
which cover the whole exterior, reflect in gorgeous hues the
bright sunlight. Over the windows and round the cornice.
are borders of beautifully interlaced Arabic characters, so
large that one can easily read them. The graceful dome
and its golden crescent crown the whole. The position of
130
JERUSALEM AND ITS ENVIRONS.
the building on its marble platform, raised high above the
surrounding area, adds vastly to its appearance. It is
octagonal in form, and about one hundred and sixty feet in
diameter. The roof and dome are supported by three con-
centric circles of marble columns of the Corinthian order.
Beneath the dome is the remarkable rock,-the sanctum of
the whole Haram,-which gives to the building its name,
Kubbet es-Sukhrah, "The Dome of the Rock." It is the
top of the hill,-the crown of Mount Moriah, rough and ir-
regular in form, and rising five or six feet above the marble
floor. Beneath it is a small excavated chamber, called the
"Noble Cave." The Jews regard this rock as the holiest
spot on earth. Here, they tell us, Abraham offered his
sacrifice; here was the threshing-floor of Ornan which
David bought, and on which Solomon built the Temple
(2 Sam. xxiv.; 1 Chron. xxi.; 1 Kings vi.; 2 Chron. iii.)
We learn from the Talmud that the great altar of burnt-
offering was erected on it, and that the cave beneath was
excavated as a cesspool to drain off the blood. Thus the
exact site of Solomon's Temple is identified; and thus, too,
we see that the golden crescent-the symbol of the false
prophet-is now raised on high, as if in scorn and derision,
over the very spot where the Shekinah glory appeared of
old. Ezekiel's prophecy is fulfilled, "I will bring the worst
of the heathen, and they shall possess their houses...
And their holy places shall be defiled" (vii. 24).
The poor Jew may now truly exclaim, as he looks down
from his squalid dwelling on the brow of Zion:-
"Our temple hath not left one stone,
And mockery sits on Salem's throne."
The whole Haram area is artificial. Part of it round
the great mosque has been cut down, while the outer por-
tions are raised, and the southern section is supported on
massive piers and arches. The subterranean chambers
thus formed are chiefly used as cisterns for storing water.
VIA DOLOROSA.
131
In former times they were supplied by an aqueduct fe
Solomon's Pools.
The other buildings in the Haram have comparatively
little interest. On the right, adjoining the city, are ranges.
of Dervish colleges, with cloisters opening on the grassy
area. Away on the south-west is El-Aksa, with its pointed
roof and Gothic façade. To the left of the great mosque,
and only a few paces distant, is a beautiful cupola, support-
ed on slender marble columns; it was built by the Calif
Abd el-Melek, some say as a model for the Dome of the
Rock.
Via Dolorosa.—A narrow lane which runs in a zig-zag
line from the door of the Serai to the Church of the Se-
pulchre has been dignified by the name Via Dolorosa, be-
cause along it, says tradition, our Lord passed from the
Judgment Hall to Calvary. I shall neither insult the un-
derstandings of my readers, nor shock their feelings by any
description of the Seven Stations, which monkish impost-
ure has located here. We passed along the street, making
various excursions to the right and left in order to get a
fuller view of the city, and to visit objects of interest. We
looked into the Pool of Bethesda, so called, but which
seems to be a portion of the great fosse which protected
the fortress of Antonia on the north; and we visited the
Church of St. Anne, not far distant,—a chaste building of
the Crusading age, recently given by the Sultan to the
French Emperor. "Most of the city is very solitary and
silent; echo answers to your tread; frequent waste places,
among which the wild dog prowls, convey an indescribable
impression of desolation; and it is not only these waste
places that give such an air of loneliness to the city, but
many of the streets themselves, dark, dull, and mournful
looking, seem as if the Templars' armed tread were the
last to which they had resounded." Another thing strikes
the thoughtful traveller, the remains of the ancient city
that meet the eye are singularly few; here and there, a
132
JERUSALEM AND ITS ENVIRONS.
umn in the wall, or a marble slab on the footway, or a
fragment of bevelled masonry, or a Gothic arch projecting
from a rubbish heap,-these are all that whisper memories
of the distant past. The Jerusalem of Solomon, and the
Jerusalem of Herod, and even a great part of the Jerusalem
of the Crusades, lie deeply buried beneath the modern lanes
and houses.
THE CHURCH OF THE HOLY SEPULCHRE
Has been for fifteen hundred years the chief point of at-
traction to Christian pilgrims. Its history may be told in a
sentence or two. Founded by the Emperor Constantine, it
was dedicated in A.D. 335-Eusebius, the father of ecclesi-
astical history, taking part in the consecration service. It
was destroyed by the Persians in 614, and rebuilt sixteen
years afterwards on a new plan. It was again destroyed
by the mad Calif Hâkim, the founder of the Druse sect,
and rebuilt in 1048. During the Crusades many changes
and additions were made. The Rotunda, the Greek Church
on its eastern side, the western façade, including the pres-
ent door and tower, and the chapel over Calvary, were then
erected in whole or in part. The buildings remained as the
Crusaders left them till the year 1808, when they were
partly destroyed by fire. They were restored, and the
church, as it now stands, was consecrated in 1810.
Turning from the Via Dolorosa into a narrow lane, we
soon reach an open court, its pavement worn by the feet of
innumerable pilgrims, and usually littered with the wares of
trinket merchants, dealers in beads, crosses, "holy" soap,
and "blessed" candles, which are eagerly bought up by
strangers. On the northern side of the court stands the
church. Its southern façade, the only one now uncovered,
is a pointed Romanesque composition, dark, heavy, and yet
picturesque. It has a wide double door, with detached
shafts supporting richly sculptured architraves, representing
our Lord's triumphant entry into Jerusalem. Over the
CHURCH OF THE SEPULCHRE.
133
door are two corresponding windows, and on the left stands
the remnant of the massive Campanile, once a noble tower
of five stories, but now cut down to three.
On entering, it was with shame and sorrow I observed a
guard of soldiers-Mohammedan soldiers-stationed in the
vestibule, to keep rival Christian sects from quarreling over
the tomb of their Saviour. The principal part of the build-
ing is the Rotunda, which has a dome open at the top, like
the Pantheon. Beneath the dome stands the Holy Sepul-
chre, a little structure, like a church in miniature, encased
in white stone profusely ornamented, and surmounted by a
crown-shaped cupola. It contains two small chambers-the
first called the "Chapel of the Angel," and said to be the
place where the angel sat after he had rolled away the
stone from the door of the sepulchre. The stone itself is
there too! Through this we pass, and enter the Sepulchre by
a very low door. It is a vault, measuring six feet by seven.
The tomb-a raised couch covered with a slab of white
marble-occupies the whole of the right side. Over it hang
forty lamps of gold and silver, kept constantly burning. I
lingered long here-solemnized, almost awe-stricken-look-
ing at pilgrim after pilgrim, in endless succession, crawling
in on bended knees, putting lips and forehead and cheeks to
the cold marble, bathing it with tears, then dragging him-
self away backwards, still in the attitude of devotion, until
the threshold is again crossed. The vault is said to be
hewn out of the rock, but not a vestige of rock is now
visible; the floor, tomb, walls, are all marble. The rock
may be there; but if so, how one should wish
"The lichen now were free to twine
O'er the dark entrance of that rock-hewn cell.
Say, should we miss the gold-encrusted shrine
Or incense-fume's intoxicating spell ?"
The Rotunda and Sepulchre are common property. All
sects-Latin, Greek, Armenian, Coptic, Jacobite — have
free access to them, but each has its own establishment
134
JERUSALEM AND ITS ENVIRONS.
elsewhere. Round the Holy Sepulchre are numerous other
"holy places," no less than thirty-two being clustered under
one roof! Golgotha, the Stone of Unction, the Place of
Apparition, the Chapel of Mocking, the Chapel of the In-
vention of the Cross-But why go over such a catalogue?
I would not willingly mingle one light feeling or one light
expression with the solemn events of the Crucifixion. Yet
it is difficult to speak of these "holy places" gravely. It is
difficult to forget how seriously such superstitions and tra-
ditions hinder the success of missionary enterprise, and how
often they make Christianity a mockery in the land which
gave it birth.
On another occasion, I was in the Church of the Sepul-
chre at Easter, when crowded with pilgrims from all lands,
of all sects. It was a strange and impressive, but painful
scene. In that vast crowd, with the exception of a few
solitary cases, I saw nothing like devotion; and in these
few cases devotional feeling had manifestly degenerated into
superstition. Place was the object of worship, and not
God. The bitter animosities of. rival sects came out on all
sides, among the clergy as well as their flocks; and it was
only the presence of the Turkish guard that prevented open
war. I was then glad to think that the real place of our
Lord's Passion was not dishonoured. True, Christianity is
a spiritual faith; it recognizes no "holy places." Yet one's
natural feelings revolt at the bare idea of Calvary becoming
the scene and the cause of superstition and strife.
But some of my readers will doubtless ask, "Does not the
Church of the Sepulchre cover the real tomb of our Lord ?”
The question involves a long and tangled controversy, on
which I care not to enter. I may, however, give my own
first impressions on the subject-impressions which thought
and study have since deepened into conviction. Before
visiting Jerusalem, I knew from Scripture that Christ was
crucified "without the gate" (Heb. xiii. 12), at a place
called Golgotha (Matt. xxvii. 33), apparently beside a
SITE OF CALVARY UNKNOWN.
135
public road (v. 39). I also knew that the "sepulchre" was
"hewn out of a rock" (Mark xv. 46), in a garden near Gol-
gotha (John xix. 41, 42). On visiting Jerusalem, I was not
a little surprised to observe the dome of the Church of the
Sepulchre far within the walls-in fact, nearly in the cen-
tre of the city. Yet the city in our Lord's day must have
been four or five times larger than it is now. It seemed to
me that topography alone makes identity all but impossi-
ble. But whatever may be thought of traditional "holy
places," Zion and Moriah, Hinnom, Olivet, and the Kidron
are there. What though the royal palace has become
"heaps," and the temple has "not one stone left upon an-
other!" What though the "Holy City" is "trodden down
of the Gentiles," and mockery is enshrined in its sanctuary!
The glens which echoed back the monarch minstrel's song,
the sacred court within whose colossal walls Israel assem-
bled to worship a present God, the hills over which Jesus
walked, and on whose sides He taught and prayed, the
vines, the figs, the olives which suggested His beautiful
parables, all are there; and no controversies or scandals
can ever change their features, or rob us of the hallowed
memories they recall and the illustrations of divine truth
they afford.
MAROSA
II.
The Tombs of the Holy City.
"But we must wander witheringly
In other lands to die;
And where our fathers' ashes be,
Our own may never lie."
S
on
O may the poor Jew now sadly sing as he wan-
ders, a despised and persecuted outcast, among
the desolations of the once proud capital of his
ancestors. Wherever he turns his eyes-
Zion, Moriah, Olivet-he is reminded by rock-hewn monu-
ment and yawning cave, that Jerusalem is not only his holy
city, but that the ashes of his ancestors are there; that it is,
as the captive said in Babylon, "the place of my fathers'
sepulchres" (Neh. ii. 3). The tombs are among the most
interesting monuments of Jerusalem. The temple "hath
not left one stone;" the palaces of Solomon and Herod have
long since crumbled to dust; the Jerusalem of the prophets
and apostles "became heaps" (Jer. ix. 11) centuries ago;
but the tombs remain almost as perfect as when the princes
of Israel were there laid "in glory, every one in his own
house" (Isa. xiv. 18). I was sadly disappointed when, after
days and weeks of careful and toilsome research, I could
only discover a very few authentic vestiges of "the city of
the Great King;"-a few fragments of the colossal wall
that enclosed the temple courts; a few broken shafts here
and there in the lanes, or protruding from some noisome
rubbish heap; a few remnants of the fortifications that once
M
JERUSALEM UNDERGROUND.
137
defended Zion. All besides is gone; buried deep, deep be-
neath modern dwellings.
When excavating for the foundation of the English
Church, portions of the old houses and aqueducts of Zion
were found nearly forty feet below the present surface!
We need not wonder that the identification of the particu-
lar buildings of primitive ages is now so difficult; and that
even the position of the valleys which once divided the
quarters of the city, has come to be subject of keen contro-
versy among antiquarians. The city of Herod was built
on the ruins of the city of Solomon; the city of the Cru-
saders was built on the ruins of that of Herod; and modern
Jerusalem is founded on the ruins of them all. Hills and
cliffs have been rounded off; ravines have been filled up;
palaces and fortresses have been overthrown, and their
very ruins have been covered over with the rubbish of mil-
lenniums. Could David revisit his royal capital, or could
Herod come back to the scene of his magnificence and his
crimes, or could Godfrey rise from his tomb, so complete
has been the desolation, so great the change even in the
features of the site, that I believe they would find as much
difficulty in settling topographical details as modern schol-
ars do.
G
Nothing but excavation can settle satisfactorily and fin-
ally the vexed questions of Jerusalem's topography. A
week's work in trenches would do more to solve existing
mysteries than scores of volumes and years of learned re-
search. It may well excite the wonder of Biblical scholars,
that while the mounds of Assyria, and Babylonia, and
Chaldea, have been excavated at enormous cost, not a
shilling has been expended upon the Holy City. By ju-
dicious excavation, under the direction of an accomplished
antiquarian, the lines of the ancient walls, the sites of the
great buildings, the sepulchres of the kings, and the beds.
of the valleys, might all be traced. A flood of light would
thus be shed upon one of the most interesting departments
138
JERUSALEM AND ITS ENVIRONS.
of Biblical topography; and who can tell what precious
treasures of ancient art might be discovered? Will no man
of influence and wealth in our country undertake this work?
Will no learned society contribute of its funds to carry it
out? Will not our beloved Prince, who has already ren-
dered such signal service at Hebron, render a still greater
service to Biblical knowledge, by encouraging such an en-
terprise?
It is pleasant to think that amid ruin and confusion there
are still some monuments left in and around the Holy City,
as connecting links between the present and the distant
past. The sepulchres of the Jewish nobles remain though
their palaces are gone. We can see where they were bur-
ied, if we cannot see where they lived. I could not de-
scribe with what intense emotion I heard my friends speak
familiarly of the tombs of David and Absalom, of the
Judges, the kings, and the prophets; and what was the ex-
cited state of my feelings when they proposed one bright
morning a walk to Tophet and Aceldama. Some of these
names may be, and doubtless are, apocryphal; none of them
may be able to stand the test of full historic investigation;
but the high antiquity of the monuments themselves can-
not be denied; and an inspection of them is alike interest-
ing and instructive, from the light they throw upon the
customs of God's ancient people, and from the illustrations
they afford of many passages in God's Word.
JEWISH TOMBS.
The earliest burial-places on record were caves. When
Sarah died, Abraham bought the cave of Machpelah, and
buried her there. Samuel is said to have been buried "in
his house at Ramah" (1 Sam. xxv. 1); by which, I believe,
is meant the tomb he had excavated for himself there, for
the Hebrew word Beth, "house," is sometimes used to
signify tomb, as in Isaiah xiv. 18, and Eccles. xii. 5, "Man
goeth to his long home," literally "to his eternal house."
•
FORM AND CHARACTER OF JEWISH TOMBS.
139
We read, moreover, of King Asa, that "they buried him in.
his own sepulchre which he had digged for himself in the
city of David” (2 Chron. xvi. 14). Elisha was buried in a
cave (2 Kings xiii. 21); the sepulchre of Lazarus was a cave
(John xi. 38); and the Holy Sepulchre was a new cave
which Joseph of Arimathea had "hewn out in the rock"
for himself (Matt. xxvii. 60).
In our own land we are all familiar with the grassy
mounds and marble monuments which fill the cemeteries,
and which pass away almost as quickly as man himself. In
Rome and Pompeii we see the habitations of the dead lin-
ing the great highways, and crumbling to ruin like the
palaces of their tenants. But the moment we set our feet
on the shores of Palestine, we feel that we are in an ancient
country—the home of a primeval people, whose tombs ap-
pear in cliff and glen, and mountain-side, all hewn in the
living rock, and permanent as the rock itself. The tombs
of Jerusalem are rock-hewn caves. I found them in every
direction. Wherever the face of a crag affords space for
an architectural façade, or a projecting rock a fitting place
for excavation, there is sure to be a sepulchre. I visited
them on Olivet and Scopus, on Zion and Moriah, inside the
modern city and outside; but they chiefly abound in the
rocky banks of Hinnom and the Kidron. Near the junction.
of these ravines, the overhanging cliffs are actually honey-
combed. Hundreds of dark openings were in view when I
stood beside En-Rogel. Some of these tombs are small
grottoes, with only one or two receptacles for bodies; others
are of great extent, containing chambers, galleries, passages,
and loculi, almost without number, each tomb forming a
little necropolis. The doors are low and narrow, so as to
be shut by a single slab. This slab was called golal, that
is, "a thing rolled," from the fact that it was rolled back
from the opening in a groove made for it. The stone being
heavy, and the groove generally inclining upwards, the
operation of opening required a considerable exertion of
W
140
JERUSALEM AND ITS ENVIRONS.
strength. Hence the anxious inquiry of the two Marys,
"Who shall roll us away the stone from the door of the
sepulchre ?” (Mark xvi. 3). The stone always fitted
closely, and could easily be sealed with one of those large
signets such as were then in use. Or perhaps the Holy
Sepulchre may have had a wedge, or small bar, pushed into
the rock behind it, like that at the tombs of the kings (de-
scribed below), and preventing the stone from being rolled
back. To this the seal might be attached (Matt. xxvii.
66). I had always to stoop low on entering the doors,
which reminded me of Peter at the sepulchre (Luke xxiv.
12). The façades of many are elaborately ornamented;
but one thing is very remarkable, they contain no inscrip-
tions. The tombs of Egypt are covered with hieroglyphics,
giving long histories of the dead, and of the honours paid
to their remains. The tombs of Palmyra not only have
written tablets over the entrances; but every separate
niche, or loculus in the interior has its inscription. I have
counted more than fifty such in a single mausoleum; yet I
have never been able to discover a single letter in one of
the tombs of the Holy City, nor a single painting, sculpture,
or carving on any ancient Jewish tomb in Palestine, cal-
culated to throw light on the story, name, or rank of the
dead.
Simplicity and security appear to have been the only
things the Jews aimed at in the construction of their sc-
pulchres. To be buried with their fathers was their only
ambition. They seem to have had no desire to transmit
their names to posterity through the agency of their graves.
It has been well said that the words, "Let me bury my
dead out of my sight," "No man knoweth of his sepulchre
unto this day"-cxpress, if not the general feeling of the
Jewish nation, at least the general spirit of the Old Testa-
ment. With the Jews the tomb was an unclean place,
which men endeavoured to avoid rather than honour by
pilgrimages. The homage paid to them is of late date, and
141
the offspring of a corrupt age. When near relatives died
it was, as it still is, customary for females to go and weep
at their graves, as Martha and Mary did at the grave of
Lazarus; but the dead were soon forgotten, and except in
the case of a few of the patriarchs, kings (Acts vii. 16, ii.
29), and prophets (Matt. xxiii. 29) we have no record of
tombs having been even held in remembrance.
JEWISH MODE OF BURIAL.
There were always a few in every age who coveted out-
ward show and splendour in their tombs, as well as in
their houses. Such was the upstart Shebna, whose vanity
and pretension the prophet Isaiah describes and denounces:
"What hast thou here, and whom hast thou here, that thou
hast hewed thee out a sepulchre here, as he that heweth
him out a sepulchre on high, that graveth an habitation
for himself in a rock?" (xxii. 16.) It is evident that the
greater part of the ornamented façades, and architectural
tombs, are of a late date, and not purely Jewish.
JEWISH MODE OF BURIAL.
The Jews used no coffins or sarcophagi. The body was
washed (Acts ix. 37), anointed (Mark xvi. 1; John xix. 40),
wrapped in linen cloths (John xix. 40; xi. 44), and laid in
the niche prepared for it-an excavation about two feet
wide, three high, and six deep, opening endwise in the side.
of the rock-chamber, as is represented in the diagrams given
below. The mouth of the loculus was then shut by a slab
of stone, and sealed with cement. In some cases the bodies
were laid on a kind of open shelf, such as I have seen in
many of the chambers. It was thus our Lord was laid, for
John tells us that Mary "stooped down into the sepulchre,
and seeth two angels, the one at the head and the other at
the feet, where the body of Jesus had lain" (xx. 21).
The kings of Israel were buried with more pomp. In
addition to the anointing of the sweet spices, "burnings "
were made for them. Thus Jeremiah says to Zedekiah:
"Thou shalt die in peace; and with the burnings of thy
142
JERUSALEM AND ITS ENVIRONS.
fathers, the former kings which were before thee, so shall
they burn for thee." And in the case of Asa we are told
there was "a great burning" (2 Chron. xvi. 14). It is not
meant that the bodies were burned, but that sweet spices
and perfumes were burned in honour of them, and probably
in their sepulchres. The bodies of Saul and Jonathan are
the only ones which we read of as having been burned (1
Sam. xxxi. 11-13).
THE TOMB OF DAVID,
On the southern brow of Zion, outside the modern walls,
there is a little group of buildings distinguished from afar
by a dome and lofty minaret. These, according to an old
tradition, believed in alike by Jews, Christians, and Moham-
medans, cover the sepulchre of Israel's minstrel king. As
matters now stand the truth of the tradition can neither be
proved nor disproved. The Turks esteem the spot one of
their very holiest shrines, and they will neither examine it
themselves nor permit others to do so. No place about
Jerusalem, not even the Haram, is guarded with such jeal-
ousy. I visited the building frequently: I walked round
and through it: I peeped into every hole, window, and
passage accessible to me: I tried soft words and even a
liberal bakhshish with the gentlemanly old keeper: but it
was all in vain; I saw no more than my predecessors had
done.
The principal apartment in the group of buildings is a
Gothic chamber, evidently a Christian church of the cru-
sading age, though probably built on an older site, or per-
haps reconstructed out of an earlier model. Tradition has
filled it with "holy places," making it the scene of the Last
Supper (hence its name Coenaculum), of the meeting after
the Resurrection, of the miracle of Pentecost, of the resi-
dence and death of the Virgin, and of the burial of Stephen.
At its castern end is a little chancel where Romish priests
sometimes celebrate mass; and on the south side is a mih-
143
rab where Moslems pray. It is thus a grand centre of tra-
dition, superstition, and imposture.
TOMB OF DAVID.
The crypt is the real holy place. A portion of it has
been walled off and consecrated as a mosque-mausoleum.
So sacred is it, that none have the entrée, not even Mus-
lem santons or grandees except the sheikh who keeps
it, and the members of his family. Fürer, a German trav-
eller of the sixteenth century, tells us he gained access to
it, and he probably saw the interior. In 1839 Sir Moses
Montefiore was permitted to approach an iron railing and
look into the chamber which contains the tomb; but he
could not enter. The Jew is shut out alike from the Tem-
ple and tombs of his fathers.
•
Miss Barclay, a young American lady, (daughter of the
author of "The City of the Great King,") has been more
fortunate. She gained admission to the mausoleum with a
female friend, a near relative of the keeper; she spent an
hour in the sanctuary, took a sketch of the interior, and has
given us the following description of what she saw: "The
room is insignificant in its dimensions, but is furnished very
gorgeously. The tomb is apparently an immense sarcopha-
gus of rough stone, and is covered by green satin tapestry,
richly embroidered with gold. A satin canopy of red, blue,
green, and yellow stripes hangs over the tomb; and another
piece of black velvet tapestry, embroidered in silver, covers
a door in one end of the room which, they said, leads to a
cave underneath. Two tall silver candlesticks stand before
this door, and a little lamp hangs in a window near it,
which is kept constantly burning. . . . . The ceiling of the
room is vaulted, and the walls covered with blue porcelain.
in floral figures."
Such then is the present state of the reputed tomb of
David. It is well known, however, that the Muslems care-
fully shut up their most sacred shrines, and construct others
either directly over them or close beside them, which they
visit and venerate as the real places. So it is at the tomb
77
144
JERUSALEM AND ITS ENVIRONS.
r
of Abraham in Hebron, and so, doubtless, it is here. The
real sepulchre, if here at all, is in a vault beneath, and the
door mentioned by Miss Barclay probably leads to it. No
fact in the Word of God is more plainly stated than this,
that David, and most of his successors on the throne of
Israel, were buried in the "city of David," that is, in Zion
(1 Kings ii. 10; xi. 43; xv. 24, &c.) The royal sepulchres.
were well known after the return of the Jews from Baby-
lon, and Nehemiah incidentally describes their position
(iii. 15, 16). Josephus says that Solomon buried David
with great pomp, and placed immense treasures in his tomb.
These remained undisturbed until Hyrcanus, when besieged
by Antiochus, opened one room and took out three thousand
talents to buy off the enemy. Herod the Great also plun-
dered the tomb; and it is said that two of his guards were
killed by a flame that burst upon them when engaged in
the sacrilegious act. We have a still later testimony to the
preservation of the tomb in the words of the apostle Peter
regarding David: "His sepulchre is with us unto this day"
(Acts ii. 29). We hear no more of it till the 12th century,
when Benjamin of Tudela relates the following strange
story, which I insert as perhaps having some slight founda-
tion in fact:-
"On Mount Zion are the sepulchres of the house of
David. In consequence of the following circumstance, this
place is hardly to be recognised. Fifteen years ago one of
the walls of the church on Zion fell down, and the patriarch
ordered the priest to repair it, and to take the stones requi-
site from the old wall of Zion. ... Two labourers when
thus employed, found a stone which covered the mouth of a
This they entered in search of treasures, and reached
a large hall, supported by pillars of marble, encrusted with
gold and silver, and before which stood a table with a
golden sceptre and crown. This was the sepulchre of
David; to the left they saw that of Solomon in a similar
state; and so on the sepulchres of the other kings buried
cave.
TOPHET.
145
there. They saw chests locked up, and were on the point
of entering when a blast of wind rushing out threw them
lifeless on the ground. They lay there senseless until even-
ing, and then they heard a voice commanding them to go
forth from the place. The patriarch on hearing the story
ordered the tomb to be walled up." The royal sepulchres.
were doubtless hewn in the rock, like all those of great men
in that age; and they must still exist. Excavation, or at
least a full exploration of the place, will alone solve the
mystery. Of one thing we may be assured, that the se-
pulchre of David cannot have been far distant from the
building now said to stand over it.
TOPHET.
On one occasion, after a long visit to Zion, I walked
down through the terraced corn-fields on its southern de-
clivity into the deep glen of Hinnom. The sun was low in
the west, and the ravine, with its rugged cliffs, and dusky
olive groves, was thrown into deep shadow. Not a human
being was there, and no sound from the city broke in upon
the silence. The high rocks along the whole southern bank
are honey-combed with tombs, whose dark mouths made
the place look still more gloomy. Already the jackals had
left their lairs, and numbers of them ran out and in of the
sepulchres, and prowling among the rocks and through the
olive trees. As I wandered on down Hinnom towards the
Kidron I observed that the tombs became more and more
numerous, until at length, at the junction of the valleys,
every available spot in the surrounding cliffs and rocks was
excavated. They are mostly plain chambers, or groups of
chambers opening into each other, hewn in the soft lime-
stone, without any attempt at ornament, save, here and
there, a moulding round the door. I observed a few He-
brew and Greek inscriptions, but of late date-certainly not
older than the ninth or tenth century.、
Here, in the mouth of Hinnom, was situated the Tophet
146
JERUSALEM AND ITS ENVIRONS.
of the Bible, originally, perhaps, a "music bower," or
"pleasure garden" of Solomon's; but afterwards desecrated
by lust, and defiled by the offerings of Baal and the fires
of
"" 'Moloch, horrid king, besmcared with blood
Of human sacrifice and parents' tears."
It finally became so notorious for its abominations that
it was regarded as the "very type of hell;" and the name
of the valley, Ge-Hinnom, in Greck Gehenna, was given by
the Jews to the infernal regions. Jeremiah gives some
terrible sketches of the fearful atrocities perpetrated in this
spot in the name of religion (vii. 31); and he depicts the
judgments which the Lord pronounced on the city and
people on account of them (xix. 6-15). Standing on the
brink of the valley I saw how literally one part of the
curse had been fulfilled: "Wherefore the days come when
it shall no more be called Tophet, nor the valley of Ben-
Hinnom, but the valley of Slaughter; for they shall bury
in Tophet till there be no place" (vii. 32). And as I re-
turned that evening up the Kidron to my home on Olivet,
I saw what seemed to me another terrible illustration of the
outpouring of the curse. I saw hyenas, jackals, and vultures
tearing the corpses from the shallow graves in the modern
Jewish cemetery. With what harrowing vividness did the
prophet's dire prediction then flash upon my mind :-"Their
carcases will I give to be meat for the fowls of heaven,
and for the beasts of the earth. And I will make this city
desolate, and an hissing; every one that passeth thereby
shall be astonished and hiss, because of all the plagues
thereof" (xix. 7, 8).
G
ACELDAMA.
On another occasion I went to the necropolis of Tophet
with a double purpose,-to explore the rock tombs more
thoroughly, and to see the painting of the Valley of Je-
hoshaphat, which the lamented Mr. Seddon was just then
completing. He had pitched his little tent at the door of
ACELDAMA.
147
an old sepulchre on the brow of the hill; and as we ap-
proached an armed goat-herd was before him, whom he
was working into the foreground. I was equally delighted
and surprised at the boldness of design, the faithfulness of
colouring, and the scrupulous accuracy of detail in that
admirable picture. He kindly left his work, and walked
away with us to Aceldama. Another artist was of our
party, whose brilliant genius was then reproducing, with
all the vividness and faithfulness of reality, the scene of
THE FINDING OF CHRIST IN THE TEMPLE. That day will
ever remain as one of the sunny spots on memory's clouded
landscape.
Tomb after tomb we passed and explored, lighting up
their gloomy chambers and narrow loculi with our torches,
and wondering at the endless variety and numbers of these
homes of the forgotten dead. At length we reached a nar-
row ledge or terrace, on the steep bank, directly facing the
pool of Siloam. Here was a large square edifice, half ex-
cavated in the living rock, half built of massive masonry.
Looking in through a rent in the wall, we found that it
was a vast charnel house, some twenty feet deep, the bottom
covered with dust and mouldering bones. This is ACEL-
DAMA, "the field of blood;" bought with the "thirty pieces
of silver, the price of Him that was valued, whom they of
the children of Israel did value" (Matt. xxvii. 9). The
tradition which identifies it is at least as old as the fourth
century; and it is a remarkable fact that the peculiar clay
on the adjoining terraces would seem to show that this
had once been a "potter's field:"-"They took counsel, and
bought with them the potter's field to bury strangers in "
(ver. 7.)
SILOAM.
I had often been struck with the quaint and picturesque
appearance of the little hamlet of Silwân, whose houses.
scem to cling like swallows' nests to the gray cliffs of Oli-
1
JERUSALEM AND ITS ENVIRONS.
148
tr
vet. It takes its name from the fountain on the opposite
side of the Kidron, at the base of Moriah; and it alone
brings down to modern times the sacred name of
' the
waters of Siloah that flow softly" (Isa. viii. 6), and of that
"pool of Siloam" in which our Lord commanded the blind
man to wash (John ix. 7). Its inhabitants have a bad
name, and are known to be lawless, fanatical vagabonds. I
resolved, however, to explore their den, and I succeeded,
notwithstanding repeated volleys of threats and curses, in-
termixed now and again with a stone or two. I was well
repaid. The village stands on a necropolis; and the habi-
tations are all half caves, half buildings,—a single room, or
rude porch, being attached to the front of a rock tomb. It
is a strange wild place. On every side I heard children's
prattle issuing from the gloomy chambers of ancient sepul-
chres. Looking into one I saw an infant cradled in an old
sarcophagus. The larger tombs, where the ashes of Israel's
nobles once reposed, were now filled with sheep and goats,
and lambs and kids gambolled merrily among the loculi.
The steep hill-side appears to have been hewn into irregular
terraces, and along these the sepulchres were excavated,
one above another. They are better finished than those of
Tophet; and a few of them are Egyptian in style, and may,
perhaps, be of that age when Egyptian influence was strong
at the court of Solomon (1 Kings vii. 8-12; xi. 7; 2 Kings.
xxiii. 3; 2 Chron. viii. 11.)
ABSALOM'S PILLAR.
The most picturesque group of sepulchral monuments
around the Holy City is that in the valley of the Kidron,
just beneath the south-cast angle of the Haram. There
are four tombs here in a range, which, from their position
in the deep narrow glen, and from the style of their archi-
tecture, cannot fail to arrest the attention of every visitor
to the Holy City. I walked up to them from Siloam. That
was a sad walk. I can never forget the horrid sights I saw.
1
ABSALOM'S PILLAR.
149
The whole side of Olivet is covered with Jewish graves.
In most cases the bodies have only a few inches of loose
earth thrown over them, and then a broad stone is laid on
the top. All round me were revolting evidences of the car-
nival held nightly there by dogs, jackals, and hyenas. Vul-
tures were enjoying a horrid banquet within a stone's throw
of me; and gorged with food, they seemed fearless of my
approach. Never before had the degradations to which the
poor Jews must now submit been brought before my mind
with such harrowing vividness:-
"Tribes of the wandering foot and weary breast,
How shall you flee away and be at rest?
The wild dove hath her nest, the fox his cave,
Mankind their country,-Israel but the grave!"
The Tomb or Pillar of Absalom is a cubical structure,
hewn out of the rock, measuring twenty-two feet on each
side, and ornamented with Ionic pilasters. It is surmounted
by a circular cone of masonry, terminating in a tuft of palm
leaves. In the interior is a small excavated chamber, with
two niches for bodies. The architecture shows at once that
this cannot be the "pillar" which Absalom had "reared up
for himself during his lifetime in the king's dale" (2 Sam.
xviii. 18); and indeed, his name was only attached to it
about the twelfth century. It resembles some of the tombs
of Petra; and may, perhaps, be the work of one of the
Herods, who were of Idumean descent.
A few yards farther south is another monolithic structure,
somewhat resembling the preceding, and now usually called
the Tomb of Zacharias-that Zacharias who was stoned
in the court of the Temple in the reign of Joash (2 Chron.
xxiv. 21); and to whom Christ refers, as slain between the
temple and the altar (Matt. xxiii. 35). But there is no evi-
dence to connect the monument with this or any other Old
Testament worthy. The Jews hold it in high veneration;
and the dearest wish of their hearts is to have their bones
150
JERUSALEM AND ITS ENVIRONS.
laid beside it. The whole ground around its base is crowded
with graves.
Between these two monuments is a large excavated cham-
ber in the side of the cliff, having a Doric porch supported
by two columns. Within it are several spacious vaults, and
numerous loculi for bodies. Here, says tradition, the Apos-
tle James found an asylum during the interval between the
crucifixion and the resurrection. The story is, of course,
apocryphal, and was not attached to the tomb till about
the fourteenth century. The view of the Kidron valley
from this spot is singularly impressive. There is nothing
like it in Palestine, or elsewhere. The valley is deep, rug-
ged, and altogether destitute of verdure. On one side
Moriah rises in banks of naked rock and bare shelving ac-
clivities, until it is crowned, far overhead, by the colossal
wall of the Haram; on the other side the limestone cliffs
are hewn out into architectural façades, and stately monu-
ments, and yawning sepulchres; while away above them,
here and there, a patriarchal olive, with sparse branches
and great gnarled arms, stands forsaken and desolate, like
the last tree of a forest.
THE TOMBS OF THE PROPIIETS.
High up on the brow of Olivet, between the footpath
that leads to the Church of the Ascension and the main road
to Bethany, is a very remarkable catacomb, of the most
ancient Jewish type. It is now called the Tomb of the
Prophets, though there is no inscription, or historical me-
morial, or even ancient tradition, to justify the name.
Equipped in a "working costume," and furnished with a
handful of little candles, we started early one morning to
explore it. Crawling into a narrow hole in an open field,
and then down a long gallery, we reached a circular vault,
twenty-four feet in diameter; from it two parallel galleries,
five feet wide and ten feet high, are carried through the
rocks for some twenty yards; a third runs in another direc-
哦
​THE VIRGIN'S TOMB.
151
tion; and they are all connected by cross galleries, the
outer one of which is forty yards in length, and has a range
作
​of thirty loculi for bodies. The accompanying diagram
will show the intricate plan and singular structure of these
interesting catacombs better than any description.
TOMB OF THE VIRGIN.
In coming forth again to the light of day, which, after
the darkness, seemed doubly brilliant, we descended the
hill-side and paid a passing visit to the tomb of Mary. It
is a quaint, but singularly picturesque structure, and must
excite the admiration of every pilgrim to Gethsemane and
Olivet. Grey and worn with age, deeply set among the
rocky roots of the mount, shaded by venerable olive trees,
it is one of those buildings which even all the absurdity of
tradition cannot divest of interest. On entering the door
we had a long descent by some sixty steps to the chapel,
a gloomy, rugged, natural cave, partly remodelled by hu-
man hands. Here tradition has placed the empty tomb of
the Virgin; and here Popery has fixed the scene of the As-
sumption.
152
JERUSALEM AND ITS ENVIRONS.
1
We walked on up the glen, through olive groves which
seem denser and more ancient than anywhere else round
the city. The rocky banks on both sides, but especially on
that next Jerusalem, are filled with tombs; and I felt
strongly impressed that some one of these was that " new
tomb” which Joseph of Arimathea "had hewn for himself”
in his garden, in which Jesus was laid. Continuing our
walk, we saw traces of Agrippa's wall on the brow of the
glen. Then, after crossing the Anathoth road, and turning
westward, we came upon more sepulchres, with richly orna-
mented doorways. But by far the most magnificent sepul-
chre in this region, and indeed around Jerusalem, is the so-
called
TOMB OF THE KINGS.
This remarkable catacomb is half a mile from the city,
not far from the great northern road. On reaching the spot
we find a broad trench, hewn in the rock to the depth of
eighteen feet. An inclined plane leads down to it. Then
we pass, by a very low doorway, through a wall of rock
seven feet thick, into a court ninety-two feet long, eighty-
seven broad, and about twenty deep, all excavated in the
living rock. The sides are hewn quite smooth. On the
western side is a vestibule, originally supported by two col-
umns. The front has a deep frieze and cornice, richly or-
namented with clusters of grapes, triglyphs, and pateræ,
alternating over a continuous garland of fruit and foliage,
which was carried down the sides. Unfortunately, this
beautiful façade is almost obliterated. When perfect, it
must have been magnificent.
The entrance to the tomb is at the southern end of the
vestibule. The door, with its approaches and fastenings, is
one of the most remarkable and ingenious pieces of mech-
anism which has come down to us from antiquity. The
whole is now in a ruinous state; but enough remains to
show what it once was. The door could only be reached
TOMBS OF THE KINGS.
by a subterranean passage, the entrance to which was a
small trap-door in the floor of the vestibule; and when
reached, it was found to be covered by a circular stone,
like a small millstone, which had to be "rolled away" to
the side, up an inclined plane. In addition to this there
was another large stone, which could be slid in behind the
door, at right angles, along a concealed groove, and which
held it immovably in its place. And there was, besides,
an inner door of stone opening on a pivot, and shutting
by its own weight. The interior arrangements of this splen-
did monument will be best understood by the accompa-
nying plan. In one respect it differs from all the other
ti
UTB
MULTUM
་་་་་བ་
(//////?
Vestibule.
153
*TT
sepulchres yet known about Jerusalem-the inner chamber,
which is several feet lower than any of the others, formerly
contained two sarcophagi of white marble, beautifully orna-
mented with wreaths of flowers. The most perfect of them
was carried away by the well-known French savan, M. de
Sauley, and placed in the museum of the Louvre. The
other is in fragments.
Even this tomb contains no record of its history, The
memory and the names of those who were laid here in royal.
state cannot now be ascertained with certainty. There is
a high probability that it was the sepulchre of Helena, the
widowed queen of Adiabene. It is known that she became.
Open Court.
154
JERUSALEM AND ITS ENVIRONS.
a proselyte to Judaism, resided in the Holy City during
the apostolic age, and made for herself a great sepulchre.
Able scholars have questioned the identity. Be this as it
may, we have here a costly, grand, and strongly guarded
sepulchre, now opened, wrecked, and rifled, as if to show
that man's home is not, cannot be, on earth.
Other celebrated tombs I visited and explored. The
Tombs of the Judges, a mile farther north; the Tomb of
El Musahny, recently discovered, and of the earliest Jewish,
type; the Tomb of Helena, &c. I need not describe them.
The general plan of all is the same; and all are equally
without story, without name, and without tenant. The
hand of the spoiler has not even spared the ashes of fallen,
outcast Israel. The time foretold by Jeremiah has come:-
"At that time, saith the Lord, they shall bring out the bones
of the kings of Judah, and the bones of his princes, and the
bones of the priests, and the bones of the inhabitants of
Jerusalem, out of their graves; and they shall spread them
before the sun, and the moon, and all the host of heaven.
.. they shall not be gathered nor be buried; they
shall be for dung upon the face of the earth" (viii. 1, 2.)
Olivet und Bethany.
"In the daytime he was teaching in the temple, and at night he went out and abode in
the mount that is called the Mount of Olives."-LUKE XXI 27.
ค
HE name Olivet goes direct to the Christian's
heart, and awakens the deepest and holiest feel-
ings there. It recalls so many memories of
Jesus, of his wondrous power and still more
wondrous love,-of his human sympathies and his divine
teachings,—of the greatness of his agony and the glories
of his triumph, that the heart overflows with love and
gratitude the moment the name falls upon the ear. With
Gethsemane on one side and Bethany on the other; with
paths, well marked, connecting them, often trodden by the
Son of Man; with gardens of olives and vineyards between,
where he was wont to pray for his people and weep for a
sinful world; with one spot upon those terraced slopes over-
looking the wilderness, where his feet stood on the eve of
the Ascension, and where his wondering disciples received
from white-robed angels the joyous promise of his second
advent.—With these hallowed associations clustering round
it, surely it will be admitted that, above and beyond all
places in Palestine, Olivet witnessed "GOD MANIFEST IN
FLESH."
"Here may we sit and dream
Over the heavenly theme,
Till to our soul the former days return.
Or choose thee out a cell
In Kidron's storied dell,
156
JERUSALEM AND ITS ENVIRONS.
Beside the springs of love that never die;
Among the olives kneel,
The chill night blast to feel,
And watch the moon that saw thy Master's agony."
Yet I was disappointed in Olivet,-not in its associations;
no Christian could be disappointed in these, but in its
appearance. One always expects to find something in a
holy or historic place worthy of its history. Here there is
nothing. When approaching Jerusalem from the west I
looked, but I looked in vain, for any "mountain" or even
"mount" that the eye could at once rest on and identify as
Olivet. Beyond the grey battlements of the city lay a long
ridge, barely overtopping the Castle of David, and the
higher buildings on Zion,-drooping to the right it opens
a view of the distant mountains of Moab, and running away
far to the north it fills in the whole background. This is
Olivet. It has no striking features; it might be said to
have no features at all. It is rounded, regular, colourless;
and the air is so clear, and the colouring so defective, that
it seems to rise immediately out of the city. In the dis-
tance the outline is almost horizontal, but as one draws
near it becomes wavy, and at length three tops or eminences
can be distinguished, the central and highest crowned with
the dome and minaret of the "Church of the Ascension,"
and the other two about equi-distant to the right and left.
Photographs show these peculiarities, and consequently
look flat and uninteresting; while in every sketch I have
seen, the imagination of the artist has greatly increased
both the apparent distance and elevation of Olivet, thus
sacrificing truth to effect.
When I passed round the city and stood on the brow of
the Kidron, at the north-east angle of the wall, the view
was much more impressive; in fact, this is one of the most
picturesque views about Jerusalem. Olivet now assumed
the appearance of a mount." At my feet was the deep
glen, shaded with dusky olive groves; and from the bottom
66
M
FEATURES OF OLIVET.
157
swelled up in grey terraced slopes and grey limestone crags,
nearly six hundred feet, the hill-side. Close on my right
was the city wall, running south in a straight line near-
not upon the rocky edge of the ravine, till it joined the
loftier and more massive wall of the Haram. The depth
of the Kidron and the comparative elevation and respective
positions of Moriah and Olivet are seen from this point to
great advantage. The sides of the two hills meet, and here.
and there overlap in the bottom of the narrow crooked
glen; while the summits are barely half a mile apart,-
Olivet overtopping its sister three hundred feet. The side
of Moriah is steep and bare as if scarped; while the whole
of Olivet is cultivated in little terraced fields of wheat and
barley, intermixed with a few straggling vines trailing
along the ground or hanging over the rude terrace walls.
Fig trees are seen at intervals, but olives are still, as they
were in our Lord's days, the prevailing trees on the mount.
It has as good a title now as it perhaps ever had to the
name "Olivet." Olive trees dot it all over,-in some places
far apart, in others closer together, though nowhere so close
as to form groves. Most of them are old, gnarled, and
stunted, a few are propped up and in the last stage of de-
cay, and I saw scarcely any young vigorous trees.
I endeavoured, when residing on the Mount of Olives,
to localize every incident of Scripture history of which it
was the scene, to bring together the sacred narrative and
the sacred place, so to group, in fact, the various actors.
on the spots where they acted, that the stories might be
made to assume to my mind as far as possible the sem-
blance of reality. I tried to follow every footstep of David,
and of David's Greater Son,-to recall every circumstance,
and note every local characteristic, and every topographi-
cal feature that might illustrate the prophecies and para-
bles, the discourses, miracles, and walks of our Lord. Some
of the leading points are fixed, and cannot be mistaken, such
as Bethany, and Jerusalem, and the one great road from the
158
JERUSALEM AND ITS ENVIRONS.
city, deeply cut in zigzag lines down the steep side of
Moriah from St. Stephen's gate to the bridge over the Kid-
ron. Then there are the two main roads over Olivet to
Bethany, branching at the bridge,—the one crossing the
summit almost in a straight line, is steep, rugged, and only
fit for pedestrians or active cavaliers; the other, diverging
to the right, winds round the southern shoulder of the hill,
and is easier, and better adapted for caravans and proces-
sions. Many difficulties met me in the arrangement of de-
tails. Gradually, however, they cleared away. Daily study
of the Record, and daily examination of the mount, re-
moved one after another, until at length the texts and
places, the stories and the scenes, so completely harmon-
ized and blended that they formed one series of graphic
and vivid life pictures.
I shall now try to show my reader what I saw myself,
and make Olivet to him what it must ever henceforth be to
me,—one of the most venerated and instructive spots on
earth. True, Christianity is not a religion of "holy places;"
on the contrary, the whole spirit of the Gospel,-the whole
writings and teachings of our Lord and his apostles, tend
to withdraw men's minds from an attachment to places, and
to lead them to worship a spiritual God "in spirit and in
truth." It was not without a wise purpose that the exact
scenes of the Annunciation, the Nativity, the Crucifixion,
the Resurrection, and the Ascension, were left unknown;
and that these events themselves were made to stand alto-
gether unconnected with places, giving no sanctity to them,
and deriving no superior efficacy from them. God thus
took away all ground and excuse for that superstition which
will only offer its incense at an earthly shrine. He showed
that Christianity was designed to be the religion of the
world, and not merely of Palestine, that the story of
Jesus and his salvation was written not for one nation, but
to be read and understood equally by all mankind.
This is true and yet it is no less true that when we stand
katy
-
GETHSEMANE.
159
upon the spot where the discourses of the Gospel were de-
livered, or where the incidents of the Gospel occurred,-
when we look upon the very objects which called forth the
sayings of our Lord, or which gave a turn and a point to
his language, or which furnished his illustrations, or which
formed the subjects of his prophetic denunciations, a flood
of light is thrown upon the record, and the various state-
ments, discourses, and stories assume a freshness, a life-like
vividness, which equally delights and astonishes us.
g
GETHSEMANE.
It would appear that our Lord, during his visits to Jeru-
salem, never spent a night in the city. Sometimes he
walked to Bethany, but usually he made the Mount of
Olives his home. Thus we read in John, "Every man
went unto his own house, Jesus went unto the Mount of
Olives" (vii. 53; viii. 1); and Luke narrating the events
of another visit, says, "In the daytime he was teaching in
the Temple; and at night he went out and abode in the
mount that is called the Mount of Olives" (xxi. 37). A
habit is here spoken of,-the usual practice of our Lord, as
is still more plainly intimated in the story of his betrayal,-
"He came out, and went, as he was wont, to the Mount of
Olives" (ver. 39; see also John xviii. 2). It appears, more-
over, that there was one particular "place" on the mount
to which he was accustomed to go, and in which to stay;
for it is added, "And when he was at the place, he said,”
&c. John informs us that this "place" was a garden-an
enclosure planted with trees (кйπо5, xviii. 1); and that it
was over the brook Cedron," that is, on the other side
from Jerusalem. Matthew and Mark give us the name of
the "garden
"" "Then cometh Jesus with them unto a
place called GETHSEMANE," or "oil-press," doubtless bc-
cause there was an oil-press in the garden, as there usually
is connected with every olive-yard (Matt. xxvi. 36; Mark
xiv. 32).
ઃઃ
160
JERUSALEM AND ITS ENVIRONS.
Here, then, we have a most interesting trait in the char-
acter of Jesus, and we have a spot indicated which is more
closely connected than any other with his private life.
After wearing and toilsome labours during the day in the
crowded streets of the city-after jarring controversies with
scribes and Pharisees in the Temple courts, he was accus-
tomed to retire in the evening with his disciples to this
garden, and there spend the night in peaceful seclusion.
And when fanaticism broke forth into open persecution-
when an infatuated populace cried for his blood, and took
up stones to stone him, passing through them he found an
asylum in the deep shade of Gethsemane (John viii. 59;
Luke x. 25-38). Here, too, he had his Oratory, where he
was wont to pray. On the night of his betrayal, when he
had led his disciples to "the garden," he said,—“Sit ye
here, while I go and pray yonder" (Matt. xxvi. 36), no
doubt indicating some well-known spot away in the deeper
shade of the olive trees. There is a strong probability too
that this was that "certain place" mentioned by Luke
where Jesus was praying when, at the request of his dis-
ciples, he taught them the Lord's Prayer (Luke xi. 1; x.
38-42). It may have been to this very place that Nicode-
mus came by night, having heard the secret of the Saviour's
retreat from some of his followers, or perhaps having been
himself the owner of the garden.
That the Son of Man should have his house in a garden-
that he should be forced to rest, and sleep, and pray on the
hill-side, under the open canopy of heaven-must seem to
many passing strange. It looks like a practical commen-
tary on his own touching declaration: "The foxes have
holes, and the birds of the air have nests, but the Son of
Man hath not where to lay his head." May we not ask,
however, "If there was no house in Jerusalem that would
shelter, no friend there that would welcome him, was not
Bethany near? Was there not a home for him in the
house of Martha? Why did he not go to Bethany ?" Those
Sta
1
CHRIST'S HOME ON OLIVET.
at all familiar with Eastern life will easily understand the
whole matter. Nearly all the inhabitants of Palestine sleep
during a great part of the year in the open air, on the house-
top,.or
.or in garden or field. It is common for families to
leave their houses in town or village early in spring, and
bivouac under a tree or rude arbour the whole summer.
Travellers, when about to spend a few days or weeks at a
town or village, generally rent a garden and live there. I
have often done so myself, and have slept with the earth
for a bed, and the starry sky for a canopy. There is no
rain, and no dew; the ground is dry, and the fresh balmy
air of the country is far preferable to the close, stifling at-
mosphere of an eastern city. Another thing must not be
overlooked. As society is constituted in the East, one can
have no privacy in a strange house, night or day. The one
apartment in which all the males sit, sleep, and eat, is open
to all comers. If we would meditate or pray, we must go,
like Peter, to the house-top (Acts x. 9), or, like Isaac, to the
field (Gen. xxiv. 63), or, like Jesus, to a mountain (Luke
vi. 12). Our Lord desired a place where he could be alone
with his disciples, and alone with his Father; and he chose
the garden on Olivet. Most probably it belonged to some
secret friend who placed it at his disposal. Be this as it
may, his followers knew it well, "and Judas also, which
betrayed him, knew the place, for Jesus oft-times resorted
thither with his disciples" (John xviii. 2).
Often and often I have walked from Jerusalem to the
Mount of Olives-by day, in the full blaze of sunlight; at
even, when the shadows were deep in the Kidron; in the
still night, when the moon shed her pale silvery beams on
grey crag and dusky tree. Now I wandered round the
southern angle of the Haram, past those great old stones,
and along the brow of the glen; now I went straight down
from the city-gate; now round by the north wall. All the
paths to Olivet converge at the ancient road which winds
down the steep bank to the bridge. I always felt, as I
161
162
#
JERUSALEM AND ITS ENVIRONS.
passed down that road and crossed the Kidron, that I was
treading in the very footsteps of my Lord, and on that very
path along which he so often retired, weary and sorrowful,
to his retreat in Gethsemane.
After crossing the bridge, the ancient road ascends the
lower slope of Olivet for about a hundred yards, and then
branches. One branch runs right up to the summit, the
other turns to the right. In the angle between them is a
little garden, enclosed by a high modern wall. This is the
traditional, and it may be the real GETHSEMANE. At any
rate, Gethsemane could not have been far distant. The
garden belongs to the Latin convent. Entering we find
trim flower-beds, and gravel walks. These have no attrac-
tions for us; neither has "the bank on which the apostles
slept," nor "the grotto of the Agony," nor any other of the
apocryphal "holy places," which ecclesiastical superstition
has placed there; but eight venerable olive trees rivet our
attention. They are real patriarchs; their huge trunks are
rent, hollowed, gnarled, and propped up, and their boughs.
hoary with age. They seem old enough, and probably are
old enough, to have formed an arbour for Jesus. How
often have I sat on a rocky bank in that garden! How
often, beneath the grateful shade of the old olives, have I
read and re-read the story of the betrayal! How often
have I fondly lingered there far on into the still night, when
the city above was hushed in sleep, and no sound was heard
save the sighing of the breeze among the olive branches,
thinking and thinking on those miracles of love and power
that He performed there!
"Who can thy deep wonders see,
Wonderful Gethsemane!
There my God bare all my guilt;
This through grace can be believed;
But the horrors which he felt
Are too vast to be conceived.
None can penetrate through thee,
Doleful, dark Gethsemane !"
i
}
1
CHRIST'S PREDICTIONS FULFILLED.
163
THE DESTRUCTION OF TIE TEMPLE FORETOLD.
Our Lord had paid his last visit to the temple. When
passing out, solemn and sad, the disciples said, "Master,
see what manner of stones and what buildings are here!"
They had probably heard some word fall from his lips
which excited their alarm, and they thus tried to awaken
in his mind a deeper interest in their venerated temple. It
was in vain. "Seest thou these great buildings? there shall
not be left one stone upon another that shall not be thrown
down" (Mark xiii. 1, 2). He went on, crossed the Kidron,
and followed the road to Bethany, apparently the lower
road, for he came to a commanding point "over against.
the temple," and there sat down. The temple and its
courts were in full view; the eye could see distinctly across
the ravine, the gorgeous details of its architecture, and the
colossal magnitude of its masonry; and there, with his eye
upon them, and his disciples' attention directed to them, he
foretold the destruction of both temple and city, summing
up with the terrible words, "This generation shall not pass
away till all be fulfilled. Heaven and earth shall pass
away; but my words shall not pass away" (Luke xxi. 33).
I walked up that same path. I sat down on a projecting
rock “over against the temple." It may not have been the
very spot on which Christ sat, but it could not have been
far from it. I looked, and I saw that the prophecy was
fulfilled to the letter-not a single stone of the temple re-
mains. I read the whole of the prophecies and parables
uttered at that place by the Saviour, and I read them with
a far deeper interest, and a far more intense feeling of real-
ity than I had ever experienced before (Matt. xxiv., xxvi.)
DAVID'S FLIGIIT FROM ABSALOM.
Crossing the Kidron by the bridge-a bridge which, I
may state, is only intended to raise the road, as there is
neither "brook " nor brook-bed in this part of the Kidron-
:
164
JERUSALEM AND ITS ENVIRONS.
leaving the picturesque Church of the Virgin down in its
sunken area on the left, and Gethsemane on the right, I
climbed the ancient road to the top of Olivet. Here and
there the rock has been cut away, and rude steps formed;
more frequently deep tracks or channels, worn by the feet
of countless wayfarers during long, long centuries, are seen
on the rocky ledges. I was now on the footsteps of David,
who, when fleeing from Absalom, "went over the brook
Kidron toward the way of the wilderness. . . and went up
by the ascent of Olivet, and wept as he went up, and had
his head covered; and he went barefoot; and all the peo-
ple that was with him covered every man his head, and
they went up weeping as they went" (2 Sam. xv. 23, 30).
It was a sad and touching spectacle; and dearly did the
king then pay for those sins which had led to the formation
of an ill-assorted and badly-trained family.
On reaching the top of the mount, David turned to take.
a last fond look at his home, now the seat of unnatural re-
bellion; and there, in sight of the Holy City and Ark, he
paused to worship God. In his hour of suffering he carried
into practice the noble sentiments of the 42d Psalm, "I
will say unto God my rock, Why hast thou forgotten me?
Why go I mourning because of the oppression of the ene-
my? Why art thou cast down, O my soul? and why art
thou disquieted within me? IIope thou in God; for I shall
yet praise him, who is the health of my countenance, and
my God." From the brow of Olivet the eye looks down
upon Jerusalem as upon an embossed picture. The ravines
that surround it, the walls that encompass it, the streets
and lanes that zigzag through it, are all visible. From the
same spot another and a widely-different view opens to the
eastward. The mount stands on the edge of the wilder-
ness. With the crowded city behind, and the bare parched
desert in front, one would almost think Olivet divided the
living from the dead. The "wilderness of Judea" begins.
at our feet; breaking down in a succession of white naked
SCENE OF THE ASCENSION.
165
hills, and jagged limestone cliffs, and naked grey ravines,
until at length the hills drop suddenly and precipitously
into the deep valley of the Jordan, beyond which rises, as
suddenly and precipitously, an unbroken mountain range
extending north and south along the horizon, far as the
eye can sce. That range is the Peraea, the "place be-
yond," of the New Testament, and the Moab and Gilead
of the Old. The "way" along which David fled was ap-
propriately named the "way of the wilderness." That
(C
""
wilderness was the scene of the Temptation, and the
"way" through it was the scene of the "Parable of the
Good Samaritan," which was related by our Lord either
upon this very summit, or on the path between it and
Bethany. How doubly striking must that beautiful illus-
tration of charity have been when Jesus would point to
that dreary, dangerous desert road, while repeating the
words, "A certain man went down from Jerusalem to
Jericho, and fell among thieves!" (Luke x. 25–37.)
THE ASCENSION.
"And he led them out as far as to Bethany, and he lifted
up his hands and blessed them; and it came to pass, while
he blessed them, he was parted from them, and carried up
into heaven" (Luke xxiv. 50).
(Luke xxiv. 50). When on Olivet I was
deeply impressed with the belief-I can scarcely tell why,
but so it was-that Jesus on this occasion took the upper
road, over the top of the mount. It was more private; and
the moment the summit was passed, he and his disciples
were in absolute solitude. Jerusalem is shut out by the
hill; and Bethany is hidden until we reach a rocky spur
overhanging the little nook in which it lies embosomed.
'He led them out as far as to Bethany." This can scarce-
y mean "into Bethany." The Ascension appears to have
ɔeen witnessed only by the disciples; and it could not,
herefore, have taken place in the village; but it must have
been close to it. I saw one spot,
(6 as far" from Jerusalem
166
JERUSALEM AND ITS ENVIRONS.
as Bethany, very near the village, and yet concealed from
view, and I thought that it, in all probability, was the very
place on which the Saviour's feet last rested. As I sat
there and read the simple, graphic story of the ascension
(Luke xxiv. 50; Acts i. 9–12), I was impressed as I never
had been before with the intense, the almost startling viv-
idness of the sacred narrative. The Saviour gradually as-
cending while the words of blessing still flowed from his
lips-the wondering, awe-stricken disciples following him
upward and upward with eager gaze-the cloud slowly
folding round him, and at length hiding him in its bright
bosom-the white-robed angels bursting suddenly from it
and standing in the midst of the disciples! What a glo-
rious picture! What joy it brings to the Christian's heart!
Our Substitute, our Saviour, our Brother, our Forerunner,
thus ascending on the wings of victory to the heaven he
had won for us! While I read and meditated, it seemed as if
there was wafted to my ear in voice of sweetest melody the
cheering words of the angelic promise, "This same Jesus
which is taken up from you into heaven, shall so come in
like manner as ye have seen him to go into heaven "(Acts
i. 11). "Even so come, Lord Jesus, come quickly."
The top of the Mount of Olives is the traditional scene of
the ascension, and a church was built over it in the fourth
century by Helena the mother of Constantine. That build-
ing has long since disappeared, and the reputed site is now
occupied by an humble chapel which stands in the court of
a mosque! Crowds of pilgrims visit it, and have done so
for many centuries. The guardian shows them the print
of one of the Saviour's fect in the rock, and tells them
that both footprints were there until the Mohammedans
stole one of them. Bishop Ellicott and others think the
traditional may be the true site of the ascension; but I
cannot see how the words " as far as to Bethany" can be
made to signify "to the top of Olivet," which is not half
way to that village.
-
}
•
BETHANY.
BETIIANY.
What particularly struck me in all my visits to Bethany
was its solitude. It looks as if it were shut out from the
whole world. No town, village, or human habitation is
visible from it. The wilderness appears in front through
an opening in the rocky glen; and the steep side of Olivet
rises close behind. When Jesus retired from Jerusalem to
Bethany, no sound of the busy world followed him-no
noisy crowd broke in upon his meditation. In the quiet
home of Martha, or in some lonely recess of Bethany's se-
cluded dell, he rested, and taught, and prayed. How de-
lighted I was one evening, when seated on a rocky bank
beside the village, reading the story of Lazarus, to hear a
passing villager say, "There is the tomb of Lazarus, and
yonder is the house of Martha !" They may not be, most
probably they are not, the real places; but this is Bethany,
and the miracle wrought there still dwells in the memory
of its inhabitants. And when the unvarying features of na-
ture are there too-the cliffs, the secluded glen, the Mount
of Olives - few will think of traditional "holy places."
From the place where I sat I saw-as Martha and Mary
had seen from their house-top-those blue mountains be-
yond Jordan, where Jesus was abiding when they sent
unto him, saying, "Lord, behold, he whom thou lovest is
sick "(John x. 40; xi. 3). I also saw the road "from Jeru-
salem to Jericho" winding past the village, and away
down the rocky declivities into the wilderness. By that
road Jesus was expected; and one can fancy with what
earnest, longing eyes the sisters looked along it-ever and
anon returning and looking, from the first dawn till waning
twilight. And when at last he did come, and Martha
heard the news, one can picture the touching scene, how
she ran along that road, and with streaming eyes and quiv-
ering lips uttered the half-reproachful and still half-hope-
ful cry, “Lord, if thou hadst been here my brother had not
died."
8
167
168
JERUSALEM AND ITS ENVIRONS.
Bethany is now, and apparently always was, a small,
poor, mountain hamlet; with nothing to charm except its.
seclusion, and nothing to interest save its associations. It
is a remarkable fact that Christ's great miracle has been to
it as a new baptism, conferring a new name.
It is now
called El-Azariyeh, which may be interpreted, "The Place
of Lazarus." The "palms" are all gone which gave it its
old name Beth-any, "House of Dates;" but the crags
around, and the terraced slopes above it are dotted yet with
venerable fig-trees, as if to show that its sister village,
Beth-phage, "House of Figs," is not forgotten, though its
site is lost. The houses of Bethany are of stone, massive
and rude in style. Over them, on the top of a scarped rock,
rises a fragment of heavy ancient masonry-perhaps a por-
tion of an old watch-tower. The reputed tomb of Lazarus
is a deep narrow vault, apparently of no great antiquity.
CHRIST'S TRIUMPHAL ENTRY INTO JERUSALEM.
Our Lord reached Bethany from Jericho on the evening of
Friday after sunset, or the morning of Saturday, the Jewish
Sabbath (John xii. 1); and on the next day (ver. 12), he
made his triumphal entry into Jerusalem. It was the
Passover week. The holy city was crowded, and the fame
of Jesus, and of the miracle he had performed on Lazarus,
brought multitudes to Bethany. He knew that the time
was now come for the complete fulfilment of prophecy, and
that Zion's King should that day in triumph enter Zion's
gates (Zech. ix. 9). Knowing what was before him, it was
natural he should take the casy caravan road round the
southern shoulder of Olivet, and not the steep and difficult
one over the summit. When setting forth there was noth-
ing either in dress or mien to distinguish Jesus from others.
Prophecy declared that he should be "meek and lowly,'
and he was "meek and lowly." The little band of humble
disciples gathered closely round his person, while the mul
titude thronged the path, and lined the rocky banks above
THE TRIUMPHAL ENTRY.
169
it. Soon after leaving Bethany the road meets a ravine
which furrows deeply the side of Olivet. From this point
the top of Zion is seen; but the rest of the city is hid by
an intervening ridge; and just opposite this point, on the
other side of the ravine, I saw the site and remains of an
ancient village. The road turns sharply to the right, de-
scends obliquely to the bottom of the ravine, and then turn-
ing to the left, ascends and reaches the top of the opposite
ridge a short distance above the site of the village. Is not
this the place where Jesus said to the two disciples,
"Go
into the village over against you?" These active foot-
men could cross the ravine direct in a minute or two,
while the great procession would take some time in slowly
winding round the road. The people of the village saw
the procession; they knew its cause, for the fame of Jesus'
miracles had reached them; they were thus prepared to
give the ass to the disciples the moment they heard, "The
Lord had need of him." And the disciples taking the ass,
led it up to the road, and met Jesus. A temporary saddle
was soon made of the loose outer robes of the people, as I
have myself seen done a hundred times in Palestine. Some
of the people now broke down branches from the palm trees,
and waving them in 'triumph, threw them in the path.
Others, still more enthusiastic, spread their garments in the
way, as I have seen Mohammedan devotees do before a dis-
tinguished saint. Zechariah's prophecy was now fulfilled
to the letter: “Rejoice greatly, O daughter of Zion; shout,
O daughter of Jerusalem; behold, thy king cometh unto
thee; He is just, and having salvation; lowly, and riding
upon an ass" (ix. 9).
The procession advances. The crown of the ridge is
gained; and Jerusalem in its full extent and beauty bursts
upon the view. Moriah, crowned by the temple, rises
proudly from the deep, dark Kidron; Zion rises higher yet
away beyond it, showing to advantage the palace of Her-
od, and the lofty battlements of Hippicus and its sister
}
ww
JERUSALEM AND ITS ENVIRONS.
170
>
towers; then the great city, and its gardens stretching far
beyond. One look on their beloved and beauteous city,
and one on their wonder-working King (Luke xix. 37), the
multitudes raised their voices in a long shout of triumph,
"Hosanna to the Son of David; blessed is he that cometh
in the name of the Lord; hosanna in the highest" (Matt.
xxi. 9).
But how was Jesus affected by these joyous acclama-
tions, and by that noble view? His omniscient eye looked
beneath the exuberance of enthusiasm-in upon the evil
heart of unbelief. It looked, too, from the gorgeous build-
ings of the city, away down the dark vista of time, and
saw looming in the future, ruin, desolation, and woe.
Therefore when he came near-when he came down, prob-
ably, to that point where the temple was directly facing
him, and all the richness of its architecture could be seen,-
"He wept over it: "
"Why doth my Saviour weep
At sight of Sion's bowers?
Shows it not fair from yonder steep,
Her gorgeous crown of towers?
Mark well his holy pains,
'Tis not in pride or scorn,
That Israel's King with sorrow stain
His own triumphal morn.
'If thou hadst known, e'en thou,
At least in this thy day,
The message of thy peace! but now
'Tis passed for aye away:
Now focs shall trench thee round,
And lay thee even with earth,
And dash thy children to the ground,
Thy glory and thy mirth.'
And doth the Saviour weep
Over his people's sin?
Because we will not let him keep
The souls he died to win?
Ye hearts that love the Lord,
If at this sight ye burn,
See that in thought, in deed, in word,
Ye hate what made him mourn,"
THE TRIUMPHAL ENTRY.
171
The scene here closes, so far as Olivet is concerned. The
mount is studded all over with traditional "holy places,"
but the only ones which tend to illustrate the sacred narra-
tive, or throw light on the journeys, parables, prophecies,
or miracles of our Lord, are those to which I have con-
ducted my reader.
Jule
IV.
The Battle-fields of Gibeon, Ai, and Michmash.
"I wandered on to many a shrine,
By faith or history made divine;
And then I visited each place
Where valor's deeds had left a trace."
T
HE stars were still trembling in the sky when,
from the top of our little tower, we heard the
impatient horses champing their bits beneath.
We were soon in the saddle, and dashing down
the rocky side of Olivet. It was a dewy morn in the end
of September, and the air was fresh and balmy. Gethse-
mane and the Kidron were in deep gloom; but the first
fleecy clouds of autumn, high overhead, had already caught
the ruddy rays of the coming sun. A death-like silence
reigned in the Holy City as we rode past. Our path led
through the olive-groves, and then across the great northern
road, near those mounds of ashes which have of late creat-
ed so much controversy. At a smart pace we traversed
the rugged table-land at the head of the Kidron, noticing
the tombs in the rocks on each side. The plain but chaste
façade of the Sepulchre of the Judges drew our attention.
Within its dark vaults are some seventy or eighty recesses
for bodies; and here, it is said, the members of the Jewish
Sanhedrim were laid in glory, "every one in his own
house."
We had now reached the western brow of the table-land;
and the deep glen of Wady Beit Hanîna was at our feet,
its banks formed into natural terraces by the horizontal
VIEW FROM NEBY SAMWIL.
173
strata. The whole scene was painfully desolate. Verdure
there was none;- but grey crowns and grey cliffs protrud-
ing everywhere from the grey soil. In places the decliv-
ities seemed as if covered with white flags. The few old
olives scattered singly or in groups along the glen can
scarcely be said to relieve the uniform bareness; for they,
too, look dusty and sapless; and the stunted trees and
shrubs, clinging to the mountain-sides above, only make
the features of nature more forbidding. There was a total
want of colour and variety of outline in the landscape.
The dull uniform grey, and the long bare declivities and
Most
rounded summits had nothing attractive in them.
of the higher peaks are singularly formed. They rise in
concentric rings of terraces, like steps of stairs, from bot-
tom to top.
MIZPEH.
Away beyond the Wady towered Neby Samwfl, the
highest and most conspicuous peak in southern Palestine.
Its conical top, crowned with village, mosque, and minaret,
forms the only striking feature in the northern view from
Jerusalem. To it we were now bound as the first point of
interest in our tour. Diving down into the glen; and then
clambering up through terraced vineyards, over rude
fences, along rocky brakes,-startling flocks of partridges
at almost every step-we gained the summit, and commit-
ted our panting steed to the care of a group of wild-looking
boys who had been watching our approach from the walls.
of a ruined tower. The village sheikh was there to wel-
come us, conspicuous in his scarlet robe, which to this day
is the badge of royalty or power among the inhabitants of
Palestine (Lam. iv. 5; Dan. v. 7; Matt. xxvii. 28). Several
of his elders stood round him, whose outer garments in the
brilliancy and variety of hue of their embroidery reminded
me of Joseph's coat of many colours.
Taking the worthy chief into our service we requested
/
174
JERUSALEM AND ITS ENVIRONS.
him to lead the way to the top of the minaret. What a
noble view was there! I had seen none to be compared
with it among the mountains of Palestine.
It is far more
extensive than that from Olivet, or Gerizim, or any of the
peaks around Hebron. Away on the western horizon slept
the "Great Sea;" and from this and other commanding
heights in Palestine I saw how natural it was for the an-
cient Israclite to make the word "sea" (yâm), a synonym
for "west" (Gen. xxviii. 14; Ps. cvii. 3). Along its glit-
tering shore lay the plains of Sharon and Philistia, extend-
ing to the horizon on the north and south—the orange,
groves of Joppa looking like a shadow, and the towns of
Ramlch, Lydda, and Ekron like points of brilliant light on
the smooth grey surface. Nearer were the declivities of
Judah's mountains, furrowed deep with many a ravine, and
bristling with many a castle-like village and ruin. The
broad summit of the ridge was a forest of hill-tops,―sepa-
rated, here by a little upland plain, there by a deep, dark,
winding glen. On the east the Jordan and its valley were
hid behind the hills of Benjamin, but the chain of Moab
and Gilead rose over them,-a vast wall of azure, built up
against a golden sky, and streaked from base to summit
with rich purple shadows. The mountain strongholds of
Judah and Benjamin, renowned of yore in sacred story,
or celebrated in sacred song, were grouped around me;-
Gibcon on its "hill;" Beth-horon guarding the western
pass (2 Chron. viii. 4); Becroth and Bethel, and away
beyond them the "rock Rimmon," where the six hundred
men, the shattered remnant of a guilty tribe, found an
asylum (Judges xx. 45-48); Ramah of Benjamin crowning.
its "height" (1 Kings xv. 17); Gibeah of Saul, now a bare
desolate "mount" (1 Sam. x. 26); Kirjath-jearim, perched
on the side of "the hill," where the ark of the Lord re-
mained so long in the house of Abinadab (1 Sam. vii. 1, 2);
Bethlehem, overlooking the wilderness, where its shepherd
warriors were trained to battle; and in the centre of the
175
group, begirt with mountains (Ps. cxxv. 2), Jerusalem her-
self sat in queenly state. That was a panorama which, once
scen, could never be forgotten. Time cannot deface the
picture;—the mind must treasure up the stirring, hallowed
memories with which every feature is associated. Probably
this peak, from which the western pilgrim gets his earliest
glimpse of the Holy City, was in Tasso's mind, when he
thus described the effect of "that first far view" upon the
Crusaders,-
C
GIBEON.
((
Lo, towered Jerusalem salutes the eyes!
A thousand pointing fingers tell the tale;
( Jerusalem!' a thousand voices cry,
C All hail, Jerusalem!' hill, down, and dale
Catch the glad sounds, and shout, 'Jerusalem, all hail !'”
The mountain gets its modern name from an early tra-
dition, which makes this village the site of Ramathaim-zo-
phim, the house and burial-place of the "prophet Samuel."
Topography is against the tradition, but it seems to identi-
fy this spot as the Mizpeh," watch-tower" of Benjamin
(Josh xviii. 26); the gathering-place of Israel, where the
tribes assembled and bound themselves by an oath never
to return to their homes till they had avenged on the in-
habitants of Gibeah the rights of hospitality outraged by
an abominable crime (Judges xx.); where Saul was chosen
monarch, and where, for the first time, the hills of Palestine
echoed back the loyal cry, "God save the king" (1 Sam.
x. 17). It appears too that this is that very "high place
of Gibeon" where Solomon offered a thousand burnt-offer-
ings, and where the Lord, in answer to his prayer, gave
him the wisdom which made him a world's proverb (
Kings iii. 4-12). Something of sanctity has ever since
clung to the spot. The Crusaders built a church on it; and
now, within its shattered walls, the Mohammedans have a
prayer-niche, and perform their devotions beside the tra-
ditional tomb of the great Jewish prophet.
1
176
JERUSALEM AND ITS ENVIRONS,
GIBEON AND ITS BATTLE-FIELDS.
At the northern base of Neby-Samwîl, in a little upland
plain, stands a low circular hill with steep sides and flat
top. The sides are covered with terraced vineyards, and
on the top is the village of El-Jik, the representative of the
ancient capital of the wily "Gibeonites." The name de-
scribes the site,-Gibeon signifies "belonging to a hill."
We were soon in the midst of the village examining the
ruins of its old castle, and the massive fragments of ancient
masonry which still form the substructions of its houses.
But the fountain-there is only one-was the main point
of attraction. It bursts from a rent cliff at the eastern base,
and empties its tiny stream into a large reservoir a few
yards off in the plain. This is that "Pool of Gibeon”
where Abner and Joab, the rival warriors of Israel met,
and where David's general gained a crowning victory (2
Sam. ii. 12-32).
But a still more famous battle was fought beneath the
walls of Gibeon. Its old inhabitants, by a clever trick, had
beguiled the Israelites into a league (Josh. ix. 3-15). The
Canaanites combined against them, and five Amorite kings
marched their forces to punish the traitor Gibeonites (x.
1-6). Messengers were sent to Joshua, then encamped at
Jericho, praying for help. It was readily granted. In the
evening Joshua set out; all night his active troops climbed
the rugged defiles; with the first dawn they crossed the
rising ground which shuts in the little plain on the east,
and ere a note of warning could be sounded, they charged
the besiegers. The attack was sudden and the victory de-
cisive. The banded forces broke and fled (x. 7–10).
Mounting our horses, we turned westward to trace the
line of flight. The Israelites "chased them along the way
that goeth up to Beth-horon" (verse 10). A quarter of
a mile west of Gibeon is a sharp ascent to a low ridge.
Up this the Amorites fled, hard pressed by their pursuers.
177
From the top of the ridge a long and rugged descent leads
to Beth-horon, which now appears in front crowning a
projecting shoulder of the mountain. The nature of the
ground favoured the fugitives, but "as they fled from be-
fore Israel, and were in the going down to Beth-horon, the
Lord cast down great stones from heaven upon them" (ver.
11). Joshua led the van of his troops. He saw that the
victory was complete, but yet that night must eventually
save the Amorite army from total destruction, and enable a
large body of them to escape to their cities through the val-
ley of Ajalon, at the foot of the pass down which they were
rushing. Then, standing on some commanding rock in the
sight of the whole people (ver. 12), in the fulness of faith
and in the ardour of enthusiasm, Joshua gave utterance to
that wondrous prayer-prophecy-glancing back towards
Gibeon and forward upon Ajalon—“ Sun, stand thou still
upon Gibeon; and thou, moon, in the valley of Ajalon.
And the sun stood still, and the moon stayed until the peo-
ple had avenged themselves upon their enemies" (ver.
12-13).
BEEROTH AND BETHEL.
G
Beth-horon itself," Beth-horon the upper," now called
Beit Ur el-Foka, an Arabic translation of the Hebrew
name, has little to interest us besides its military associa-
tions as a strong outpost of Judea, guarding the principal
pass from the western plain to Jerusalem (1 Mac. iii. 13-
24). As I sat on the top of its conical hill, beside its
shattered walls, I saw the "nether Beth-horon" (Josh. xvi.
3) away below at the bottom of the pass; and further south,
on the side of its valley, the little village of Ajalon. The
view over the broad expanse of Sharon and Philistia to the
sea was glorious.
BEEROTH AND BETHEL.
We now turned our faces eastward again, and rode
across wild and bleak hills, dotted here and there with a
vineyard or an olive-grove, and in two hours reached Bîreh,
178
JERUSALEM AND ITS ENVIRONS.
the ancient Beeroth, one of the four cities of the Gibeonites
(Josh. ix. 17). The only object of interest there is an old
Gothic church, built by the Knights Templars, who held
Beeroth during the reign of the Latin kings. I did not
linger, but galloped to BETHEL, two miles distant, where I
found my tent pitched beside the little fountain.
During the still evening, when the shadows were deepen-
ing in the glens, and the last rays of the declining sun gild-
ing the top of rock and cliff, I explored the site of this the
most ancient of Israel's holy places. I looked all round in
the hope of identifying the spot where Jacob slept, and
which he consecrated and called the "House of God." I
explored the rock sepulchres, too, which dot the sides of
"the mount" (2 Kings xxiii. 16), thinking that one or
other of them might be that of "the man of God from Ju-
dah," whose bones Josiah respected (ver. 17, 18). Clam-
bering to the top of a shattered tower which crowns the
hill of Bethel, I looked long, and in sadness, over that
dreary field of ruin, only inhabited by a few shepherds; and
I saw how terribly time had fulfilled the city's prophetic
doom: "Bethel shall come to nought" (Amos v. 5).
ΛΙ.
▸
In the early morning, crossing a rocky glen, I ascended
the mountain to the spot where Abraham pitched his tent
and built his altar, "having Bethel on the west, and Hai
(Ai) on the east" (Gen. xii. 8). Here I found a little pla-
teau, stony but fertile, on the very crest of the hill; and on
reaching it the valley of the Jordan, and the glittering
waters of the Dead Sea suddenly burst upon my view, lying
deep, deep down at the foot of a dreary wilderness. On
this spot Abraham and Lot had that memorable interview
after their herdsmen had disputed, and "they found that
the land was not able to bear them, that they might dwell
together, for their substance was great" (Gen. xiii. 3-7).
There and then they resolved to separate; and "Lot lifted
179
up his eyes, and beheld all the plain of Jordan that it was
well watered" (ver. 10), and he chose that rich region as
his abode. How wonderfully graphic did the whole narra-
tive appear to me as I read it on that mountain-top.
Bethel was behind me on the west; but where was Ai-
long lost Ai? On this and on two other occasions I visited
the district to search for and verify its site. I believe I was
successful. Jutting out eastward from the plateau on which
I stood is a lower ridge, having deep glens on all sides,
except where it joins the mountain. Over its whole summit
I found traces of very ancient ruins, with cisterns and caves
such as exist on the sites of all mountain cities in Palestine.
At the eastern base are large quarries, and many rock-hewn
tombs. I had no doubt then, and I have none now, that
here stood Ai, “on the cast" of Abraham's camping ground
and altar.
BETHEL AND AI.
The capture of Ai forms one of the romantic episodes in
Jewish history. The first assault was unsuccessful, and the
little army was driven back in confusion (Josh. vii. 4, 5).
The second was more skilfully planned, and had the sanc-
tion of the God of battles. North-west of Ai, between it
and Bethel, is a little rocky glen; and in this, during the
night, five thousand chosen Israelites were placed in am-
bush (Josh. viii. 9, 12). Joshua and the main body took
up a position on the commanding ridge north of the city,
separated from it by a deep valley (ver. 11). In the morn-
ing, before it was yet light, he advanced into the valley, as
if to attack the fortifications in front (ver. 13). The first
dawn revealed him to the watchful foe, who immediately,
leaving Ai in force, charged impetuously down the hill
(ver. 14). The Israelites gave way "as if they were beat-
en, and fled by the way of the wilderness,”—down the wild
mountain defiles towards Jericho (ver. 15). It was a feint,
and it succeeded. The whole population of the city rushed
out in pursuit (ver. 16). Just then, in obedience to the
command of God, and, doubtless, in accordance with a
180
JERUSALEM AND ITS ENVIRONS.
preconcerted signal, Joshua standing on some prominent
rock or cliff, “stretched out the spear that he had in his
hand toward the city. And the ambush arose quickly out
of their place, and they ran, and they entered the city, and
hasted, and set the city on fire. And when the men of Ai
looked behind them, they saw, and, behold, the smoke of
the city ascended up to heaven, and they had no power to
flee this way or that way" (ver. 19, 20). They were com-
pletely paralyzed. All were put to the sword, and Ai was
razed to the ground.
Some centuries later Ai appears to have been rebuilt; but
it is now, and has been for a thousand years, a desolate
ruin.
MICHMASH.
Much pleased with the result of my visit to the site of
Ai, I rode down the rocky glen through which the Israelites
fled, and then over bare undulating table-land to Michmash,
one of the ancient strongholds of Benjamin. My chief ob-
ject now was to inspect the scene of Jonathan's singular
and successful adventure. The village stands near the
summit of a ridge which descends in rugged banks and
broken cliffs to a deep valley. On the south side of the
valley is a corresponding ridge, crowned by the buildings
and ruins of the ancient GEBA—about a mile distant, and in
full view from Michmash. Half a mile further down east-
ward the valley contracts into a ravine, with high naked
cliffs on cach side; and above the cliff toward Michmash
are a few acres of table-land. Riding down to this spot,
and examining the features of the glen, the cliffs, and the
opposite ridges, I felt convinced that here was the scene of
Jonathan's exploit.
The Israelites under Saul were in Geba, and the Philis-
tine army held Michmash (1 Sam. xiii. 14). The Philistines,
resolving to force the pass, left the town and advanced to
the edge of the ravine (ver. 23). The Israelites, few in
BATTLE OF MICHMASH.
181
number and dispirited by long oppression (ver. 19-22) re-
treated to Migron, near Gibeah of Saul (xiv. 2). Jonathan,
seeing the harassed state of his country, and the despair of
his father's troops, resolved to make a bold attempt to sur-
prise the enemy's camp. The cause of his sudden resolve
and his hope of success he explained to his armour-bearer:-
"It may be that the Lord will work for us, for there is no
restraint to the Lord to save by many or by few” (ver. 6).
“Do all that is in thine heart," was the reply of his devoted
follower; "I am with thee according to thy heart" (ver. 7).
The nature of the ground favoured the enterprise. At the
point where they had to cross the ravine, "there was a sharp
cliff on the one side, and a sharp cliff on the other” (ver. 4).
Stealthily and cautiously they descended the southern cliff,
screened from view by projecting rocks. They then climbed
the north bank to a place where, by stepping out on some
projecting ledge, they would be in view of the Philistines,
and yet sufficiently distant to escape if requisite. Advanc-
ing from behind a crag they showed themselves to the
enemy, who naturally said to each other, on seeing them so
close to the camp, "Behold the Hebrews come forth out of
the holes where they had hid themselves." "Come up to us,"
cried the Philistines. The desired omen was thus given (com-
pare verses 10, 12). "Upon their hands and upon their feet "
these brave men scaled the rocks, and rushed upon the foe. A
sudden panic seized the whole host. The Lord fought for
Israel. The strange and unexpected attack, and the simul-
taneous shock of an earthquake, created such terror and
confusion, that the Philistines madly fought with each other
(ver. 15). From the heights of Geba Saul's watchmen saw
the Philistine army melting away; and Saul's own ear
caught the din of battle (ver. 16, 19). Collecting his men
he crossed the pass and joined in the slaughter. Swiftly
the tidings sped over hill and dale-through city and vil-
lage-"The Philistines flee;" and swiftly the men of Is-
rael rush from cave, and rock, and stronghold, and join in
:
182
JERUSALEM AND ITS ENVIRONS.
pursuit (ver. 21, 22). The battle of Michmash was the first
of those fierce conflicts carried on at intervals through the
long reigns of Saul and David, and which eventually result-
ed in the final expulsion of the Philistines from the mount-
ains of Israel.
The modern inhabitants of Michmash seem to inherit some-
thing of the fierce and predatory spirit of the Philistines.
They dogged me wherever I went, muttering threats and
curses, at first asking, but in the end demanding bakhshish.
I took no notice of them further than was absolutely ne-
cessary. When at length, having finished my survey of the
battle-field, and a sketch of the "pass," I mounted my
horse to go to Geba, they drew up before me in formidable
array, and swore by "the life of the prophet" I should
not move. I insisted, however, in breaking through their
ranks; and fortunately for me their valour did not go be-
yond presenting a few old muskets at my head, and a noisy
brandishing of swords and daggers. The goat track by
which I had to descend the glen bank was, perhaps, quite
as dangerous to life and limb as the lawless vagabonds of
Michmash. I have traversed many bad roads in my Syrian
wanderings; I have ridden my Arab horse to the very
highest peaks of Hermon and Lebanon; but the pass of
Michmash was the worst I had ever encountered.
Geba, the ancient city of Canaan, the stronghold of Ben-
jamin, is now represented by a few ruinous huts, in which
some half-dozen families of shepherds find a home. A
shattered tower, and the foundations of an old church, with
heaps of hewn stones and rubbish, are the only vestiges of
former greatness. Standing there all solitary on its bare
rocky ridge, looking down over barren hills and naked ra-
vines, upon the scathed valley of the Jordan, it is the very
type of desolation. The curse has fallen heavily upon
"Geba of Benjamin." When Elisha came up the defile
from Jericho to Bethel, forests clothed the surrounding
heights; now there is not a tree (2 Kings ii. 24). Vine-
ANATHOTH.
183
yards then covered the terraced sides of glen and hill, from
base to summit. They have all disappeared. Cities and
fortresses, in the days of Israel's power, crowned every peak
and studded every ridge; shapeless mounds now mark their
deserted sites. From the side of Geba no less than nine
ruined towns and villages were pointed out to me. How
wonderfully have the predictions of Moses been fulfilled!
"I will destroy your high places. . . . I will make your
cities waste, and bring your sanctuaries into desolation . . .
And I will bring the land into desolation; and your enemies
which dwell therein shall be astonished at it" (Lev. xxvi.
30-32).
ANATHOTH.
Anathoth is barely three miles south of Geba, and yet
the road is so bad, and the intervening glens so deep and
rugged, that I was a full hour in reaching it. Were it not
for its sacred associations, no man would ever dream of
visiting Anathoth-a poor village of some twenty houses,
built among white rocks and white ruins, on a bare, grey
mountain side. No trees, no verdure, no richness, or gran-
deur, or beauty; and yet here, in this ancient city of priests
(Josh xxi. 18), the prophet Jeremiah was born (i. 1).
Here he received his first commission to warn and threaten
a rebellious nation (i. 5-19); and here, amid mountain soli-
tudes and rocky dells, he mourned and wept over the fore-
seen calamities of his beloved country. When I looked
out over that
"Barren desert, fountainless and dry,"
of which Anathoth commands a prospect wide and wild,
his words seemed filled with a double power and pathos:
"Oh that my head were waters, and mine eyes a fountain
of tears, that I might weep day and night for the slain of
the daughter of my people! Oh that I had in the wilder-
ness a lodging place of wayfaring men, that I might leave
my people, and go from them!" (Jer. ix. 1, 2.) One can
184
JERUSALEM AND ITS ENVIRONS.
trace, in nearly all the images and illustrations with which
his writings abound, the influence of those wild scenes amid
which he passed his boyhood. Mountains, rocks, wild
beasts, shepherds, are again and again introduced; and
when predicting the utter ruin of Israel, he says, with char-
acteristic allusion to his home,-"The spoilers are come
upon all high places through the wilderness" (Jer. xii. 12).
The view from Anathoth is dreary and desolate, but it is
singularly instructive to the thoughtful student of Jere-
miah's prophecies.
GIBEAH OF SAUL.
Looking westward from the village, my eye caught the
white top of a conical hill, rising over an intervening ridge.
"What is the name of that hill ?" I said to an old man at
my side. "Tuleil el-Fûl," he replied. Seven long hours I
had already been in the saddle, under a cloudless sun, and I
had not enjoyed even for a moment "the shadow of a great
rock" in that "weary land;" yet the surpassing, all-absorb-
ing interest of holy sites and holy associations made me in-
sensible to fatigue. Tuleil el-Fûl, I knew, was covered of
yore with the buildings of Gibeah, the city which, by its
crimes, brought such calamities on the tribe of Benjamin
(Judg. xix.); which gave Israel its first king (1 Sam. xi.
4); and which witnessed the unparalleled maternal tender-
ness and devotion of poor bereaved Rizpah (2 Sam. xxi.
8-11).
Half an hour's hard ride brought me to its base, and in a
few minutes more I was on its summit. A rude cairn on
the hill-top-a few massive foundations now supporting
little terraces along the sides—some scattered ruins at the
western base-these alone mark the site of the royal city
of Benjamin. Its very name has long since gone, unless in-
deed the Arabic Tuleil ("little hill") be a translation of the
Hebrew Gibeah.
NOB IDENTIFIED.
Riding towards Jerusalem, another conical tell attracted
NOB IDENTIFIED.
185
my attention. It is about half a mile from Gibeah. I
found on its sides and summit traces of a small but very an-
cient town; cisterns hewn in the rock, large building stones,
portions of the hill levelled and cut away, and the ruins
of a small tower. It commands a distinct, though distant
view of Mount Zion; Moriah and Olivet being hid by an
intervening ridge. I felt convinced that this is the site of
the long lost Nob; and I here saw how graphic was the
whole description of the march of the Assyrian host upon
Jerusalem, as given by Isaiah. I had followed the line
from Ai; and on the top of this tell I understood the full
meaning of the last sentence, "He shall remain at Nob that
night, he shall shake his hand against the mount of the
daughter of Zion, the hill of Jerusalem" (Isa. x. 28-32).
Between Nob and Gibeah is a deep retired vale, which
must have been the scene of the affecting interview between
David and Jonathan, recorded in 1 Samuel xx. David
seeing that his life was threatened at the court of Saul,
went to Nob, got Goliath's sword from Ahimelech the high
priest, and fled to Gath. David's visit sealed the fate of
Nob. A base Edomite betrayed the innocent priest; and
when no Israelite dared to carry out the savage commands
of a tyrant king, Doeg proved a willing executioner.
Ahimelech and his whole family were murdered, and “he
smote Nob with the edge of the sword, both men and
women, children, and sucklings, and oxen, and asses, and
sheep" (1 Sam. xxii). Sitting on the desolate site I read
the story of that terrible massacre; and I shuddered as I
looked around and saw the rocks once stained with the
blood of the helpless victims. Can we wonder that Ezekiel
was commissioned to pronounce a curse upon Palestine,
when he could with such truth assign as its cause, “for the
land is full of bloody crimes" (vii. 23).
Another hour brought me to my home on Olivet, and to
the end of one of the most interesting and profitable excur-
sions I ever made in Palestine.
THE LAND OF THE PHILISTINES.
6
The Land of the Philistines.
I.
"Thus saith the Lord God; Behold, I will stretch out mine hand upon the Philistines,
and I will cut off the Cherethims, and destroy the remnant of the sea coast."-Ezek.
XXV. 16.
XV
E rode down from Jerusalem on Saturday, hoping
to spend a quiet Sunday in the Franciscan con-
vent of Ramleh. The good fathers received us
with even more than ordinary hospitality, and
quartered us in their choicest cells. They supplied our
table, too, with the best their larder afforded; and as we
were all well inured to Eastern life, we were able to enjoy
the fare. In the early part of Sunday we were left alone,
and the deep silence of the convent was most impressive.
At intervals the solemn chant of the Latin service in the
chapel swept through the cloistered courts and along the
corridors, now swelling forth in full harmony, now dying
away in a plaintive wail, and again awaking like an echo.
In the afternoon an Italian monk, who had been previously
acquainted with one of my companions, joined our party.
He had seen much of the world, and was a man of polished
manners and extensive information. He seemed anxious to
promote the cause of education in Syria, but spoke despond-
ingly of this work, to which, he told us, he had devoted
his life. His doubts and fears arose mainly from the dif-
190
THE LAND OF THE PHILISTINES.
ficulties thrown in his way by his superiors, and from the
limited means at his command. After some general con-
versation, we all sat down to read together the various
passages of Scripture referring to Philistia and its old war-
like inhabitants.
The Philistines, we are told, were an Egyptian tribe, de-`
scendants of Ham, who, at some unknown period before
the time of Abraham, left their native country and settled
on the southern coast of Canaan. Singularly enough,
though always called, even by the Israelites, "strangers,"
(for such is the meaning of Philistines,) they gave to the
whole land the name it bears to this day-PALESTINE.
Abraham and Isaac lived in peace with the Philistine
chiefs; and though their dependants had occasional quar-
rels, yet they fed their flocks on the same pastures and
watered them at the same wells. But in after ages the
Philistines became the most determined foes of the Is-
raclites.
Philistia is the garden of Palestine. It is about forty
miles long from Joppa to Gaza, and about fifteen wide from
the Mediterranean to the mountains of Judah. Along the
whole sea-board are white sandy downs. Within these is
the broad undulating plain, with its deep rich soil, and low
mounds at intervals, over whose summits the grey ruins of
great cities are now strewn in the dust. On the east the
mountains send out their roots far into the plain, carrying
with them their rocks, and braes, and jungles of dwarf trees
and shrubs; and leaving between them picturesque wind-
ing vales. Such is Philistia, the Shephelah ("low country"
or "valley") of the Bible (2 Chron. xxvi. 10; Deut. i. 7).
It is a noble region, and it was defended by its old inhabit-
ants with a heroism and devotion which have been rarely
equalled. The Philistine warriors could dash across the
unbroken plains in their chariots of iron, and drive all their
foes before them; but the moment they attempted to pene-
trate the mountain defiles they were overmatched by the
WALK TO LYDDA.
191
active Jewish infantry. The physical character of these
neighbouring countries solves the mystery of the long,
fierce, and undecided struggles of the two nations.
We were deep in our studies, and were becoming rapidly
more and more interested in the stories of Samson, the cap-
ture of the ark, and David and Goliath, when suddenly the
silence that reigned around us was broken by a straggling
fire of musketry in the distance. It came nearer. The roll
of kettle-drums was next heard, at first faintly, but growing
each moment louder and clearer, till at length the ringing
shots and warlike music seemed beneath the convent walls.
Then there was a hurrying to and fro, and banging of
doors, followed by polyglot shoutings. The monk started
up in manifest alarm, and rushed out. We all followed,
supposing the Bedawîn were making a sudden raid. On
gaining the terraced roof, which commanded a view of the
great gate, we discovered the cause of all the din and bus-
tle: a Roman Archbishop was on his way to the Holy City,
escorted by a troop of irregular cavalry, who showed alike
the importance of their trust and their reverence for the
Sabbath by making as much noise as their guns and drums
were capable of. Unfortunately for our peace, his Emi-
nence resolved to pass the night at Ramleh. To escape for
a time from the tumult, I proposed a walk over to Lydda,
and my companions gladly acquiesced.
LYDDA.
The sun was already low in the west when we entered
the broad avenue-like road that leads to Lydda. It was a
beautiful evening-the sky cloudless, the atmosphere trans-
parent as crystal. The sunbeams fell slanting on the dense
foliage of the orange and apricot trees, here gilding the
topmost leaves, and yonder shooting in lines of gold through
the openings. The sea breeze was just setting in. Now it
played among the rustling branches of the tall palms, and
now it seemed to come down for a moment and breathe its
9
192
THE LAND OF THE PHILISTINES.
balmy breath in our faces. The road, covered deeply with
red sand, is lined with orchards, in which we saw orange,
lemon, peach, pomegranate, and carub trees, intermixed
with the palm, walnut, and sycamore; and the whole en-
closed by huge hedges of cactus, whose luscious fruit,
clinging quaintly to the sides of the great thick leaves, was
now almost ripe. An easy walk of three-quarters of an
hour brought us to Ludd, the modern as well as the more
ancient name of the apostolic Lydda (1 Chron. viii. 12). I
have often been sadly disappointed on approaching an old
Bible city, which fancy had somehow decked in the choic-
est beauties of nature and art, but which reality transformed
into mud hovels on a rocky hill-side. It was not so with
Lydda. Even now, though its glory is gone, Lydda has an
imposing look. It is embowered in verdure. Olive groves
encircle it, and stretch far out over the surrounding plain,
and their dusky hue is relieved here and there by the
brighter foliage of the apricot and mulberry; while, near
the houses, vines are seen creeping over garden walls and
clambering up the great gnarled trunks and branches of
the walnut trees.
The village stands on a gentle eminence, and high above
its terraced roofs rise the splendid ruins of England's pa-
tron saint. Lydda, tradition says, was the native place of
St. George; and England's chivalrous king, the lion-hearted
Richard, built in his honour this noble church, the ruins of
which now form the chief attraction of Ludd. The walls
and part of the groined roof of the chancel still remain, and
also one lofty pointed arch, with its massive clustered col-
umns and white marble capitals, rich in carving and fret-
work.
We climbed to the top of the crumbling wall, and there
sat down to read the story of Peter's visit to this place
(Acts ix. 32-39). The whole village was in full view, and
the great plain around it. Peter was away on one of his
missionary tours in the hill country of Samaria, "and he
PETER'S MIRACLE AT LYDDA.
193
came down also to the saints which dwelt at Lydda." He
came down through the defiles of those mountains, and
across that broad rich plain of Sharon, or "Saron," and up
the gentle ascent to this old town. The saints met him as
he entered, and told him of the sufferings of poor paralytic
Eneas; and the scene then enacted at his bed-side was such
as the people had never before witnessed. "Peter said
unto him, Encas, Jesus Christ maketh thee whole; arise and
make thy bed. And he arose immediately." As the words
reached his ears, divine power operated on his body. The
wondrous tidings sped from mouth to mouth, from group to
group, from town to country. All eagerly inquired; some
probably at first doubted, but when they saw the healed
paralytic, faith triumphed, and "all that dwelt in Lydda
and Saron turned to the Lord." The joyful news soon
found its way to Joppa, ten miles distant; and then the
mourning friends of the charitable Tabitha despatched quick
messengers to tell Peter of her death, half hoping that even
she might not be beyond the reach of his power. Peter
delayed not, but set out across that western plain on another
journey of mercy.
As we looked from our commanding position over that
wide landscape, we could not but admit that there was a
charm in it independent of all its hallowed associations. It
was one of those views which, like a picture by Claude,
never pass from the memory. On the north lay the vast
plain of Sharon, variegated with green meadows and yel-
low corn-fields; for, though only the end of April, the fields
were "already white to the harvest." In the far distance
we could just distinguish the pale blue summits of Carmel.
On the east, the view was bounded by the long range of
the mountains of Israel, their rounded tops now tinged with
the ruddy evening light; and the deep purple shadows of
their ravines throwing out in bold relief the old ruined
cities and modern villages that crown nearly all the pro-
jecting cliffs. On the south, a swell in the plain concealed
194
THE LAND OF THE PHILISTINES.
I
Philistia; but that swell was clothed with the orchards of
Ramleh, whose tapering minarets and tall white tower
shoot up from the midst of the dense foliage. On the west,
beyond the gardens, there was first a stretch of brown
sandy plain; then a narrow dark belt, traced by the orange
groves of Joppa; and then the Mediterranean, gleaming like
a mirror of burnished gold beneath the setting sun.
On Monday morning, before the sun had yet risen over
Judah's hills, we were all in the saddle, following a gay
trooper, bristling with arms, along the broad sandy road to
Philistia. Selîm, our new companion, was to fill the double
post of guide and guard: and he was admirably qualified
for office; for he knew the name of every village, fountain,
and wady between Ramleh and Gaza; and he was on
terms of close friendship with all the bandits in the prov-
ince. Our route was at first dreary enough, traversing
bleak downs of brown sand, over which a few flocks of sheep
and goats followed their shepherds, apparently bound for
better pastures. But the morning, as usual, was bright and
beautiful, the air fresh and exhilarating, and Selîm full of
tales of border raids, and old traditions about Samson and
Jalud (Goliath); so we got on cheerily. An hour's ride
brought us to the top of the swell which separates Sharon
from Philistia. The latter plain now opened up
before us,
rolling away to the southern horizon in graceful undula-
tions, clothed with a rich mantle of green and gold-har-
vest-field, and pasture-land. Ruins were visible every-
where; but the villages were few, small, and far between.
The distant hill-sides were more thickly studded with them;
and Selîm told us that though, like the old Danites, the
people lived there for security, their possessions and crops
were chiefly in the plain.
EKRON.
Akîr soon came in sight; and a quarter of an hour's gal-
lop along a beaten path, through fields of corn, brought us
to the village. We dismounted, and sat down beside the
EKRON.
195
only antiquity of the place, a large deep well; such a well,
probably, as the servants of Abraham dug at Gerar and
Beersheba in olden times. A crowd of villagers collected
to gaze at the strangers. The men were chiefly conspicu-
ous for the huge daggers in their girdles, and their enor-
mous turbans, which seemed out of all proportion with the
rest of their scanty wardrobe. The women were in rags,
and most of the children stark naked. Akir is a wretched
village, containing some forty or fifty mud hovels; its nar-
row lanes encumbered with heaps of rubbish and filth. It
stands on a bare slope, and the ground immediately around
it has a dreary and desolate look, heightened by a few
stunted trees scattered here and there round the houses.
Yet this is all that marks the site and bears the name of
the royal city of Ekron. There is not a solitary vestige of
royalty there now. With feelings which it would be dif
ficult to describe, we took out our Bibles, and read the doom
pronounced upon it by the Hebrew prophet while it yet
stood in all the pride of its strength and beauty: "Ekron
shall be rooted up” (Zeph. ii. 4).
We read also the interesting narrative of the restoration
of the ark to the Israelites, when it was conveyed on the
new cart from Ekron to Beth-shemesh, (1. Sam. vi.). The
position of the latter city was pointed out to us by Selîm.
It is beautifully situated in the side of the deep valley of
Surâr, the ancient Sorek, a short distance above the place
where it opens from the mountains of Judah into the plain.
It is about ten miles from Ekron, and a broad vale, or
rather depression, winds down from it to the Mediterranean.
On the northern slope of this vale Ekron stands. Up that
vale ran the ancient highway, "straight to Beth-shemesh,"
along which went the "lowing kine," bearing the ark, and
turned not aside to the right hand nor to the left." It
was just about this season of the year too; for the "men
of Beth-shemesh were reaping their wheat-harvest in the
valley" that very valley of Surâr which now waved with
}
1
196
THE LAND OF THE PHILISTINES.
ripening grain. The chiefs of the Philistines followed the
ark to the border of Beth-shemesh-that is, to the foot of
the mountains; and there, having given up their charge,
"they returned to Ekron the same day." We were all
deeply impressed with the simplicity and, at the same time,
graphic power of the narrative.
The
Again we mounted, and led by our active guide, struck
at a dashing pace down the gentle slope, then diagonally
across the meadows and wheat-fields of Wady Surâr.
sun was already high in the heavens, and not a cloud as
large as a man's hand to shade us from his fierce beams.
The rainy season was past in the low plain of Philistia. A
single cloud would now have been looked on as a wonder;
and as for a shower, the peasants would have been as much
terrified at it as the Israelites were, when, in answer to the
prayer of Samuel, the Lord "sent thunder and rain" in the
time of wheat-harvest (1 Sam. xii. 17). Through the cen-
tre of the wady, deeply furrowed in the alluvial soil, winds
the torrent-bed of the Sorck, already dry, except here and
there where water lay stagnant in little pools, half con-
cealed by the dark foliage and gorgeous flowers of the
oleander. The rivers of this southern land are mere win-
ter torrents; the summer's sun dries them up, scorching the
reeds, and rank grass, and bright flowers of early spring;
just as Isaiah describes it: "The river shall be wasted and
dried up; the reeds and flags shall wither. The paper
reeds by the brooks, by the mouth of the brooks, and every-
thing sown by the brooks, shall wither, be driven away,
and be no more" (Isa. xix. 5-7). But when the autumn
rain falls, the streams return to their beds, and the waters
flow murmuring over the pebbles, and the dead plants
burst forth into new life and verdure. How beautiful the
prayer, and how appropriate the allusion of the Psalmist :-
"As streams of water in the south,
Our bondage, Lord, recall."-(Ps. cxxvi. 4).
Skirting the base of a low limestone ridge we opened up
PATRIARCHAL CUSTOMS.
197
the plain of Yebna, extending away on the right to the
shores of the Mediterranean,-almost as smooth as the sur-
face of the sea itself, and having a little hill, like an island
in the centre, covered in part with the ruins of ancient
Jabneh (2 Chron. xxvi. 6), and in part with the humble
houses of its modern representative; in part, too, with the
remains of a crusader's church. The plain was all astir
with bands of reapers, men and women; and close behind
them the gleaners, mostly young girls, reminding one of the
faithful Ruth. The great proprietors were there too, mov-
ing about, like Boaz, from field to field among their labour-
ers, clad in their scarlet cloaks. As we passed each group
Selîm saluted them with an Ullah makum,-" The Lord be
with you;" and they returned the invariable response,
"The Lord bless thee." Not only are the manners and
customs unchanged in this land, but the very words of salu-
tation are what they were three thousand years ago (Ruth
ii. 3, 4.)
Leaving this low-lying plain we ascended the bleak
downs, where vast flocks of sheep and camels were brows-
ing; and away on our left, nearly a mile distant, we saw
the black tents of their Arab owners. They saw us also;
and a party of ten or twelve splendidly mounted came upon
us at full gallop, their spears glittering in the sunbeams, and
their braided hair and flowing robes streaming behind them.
Selîm rode out to meet them, and I followed to hear the
parley. Before a word was spoken, Selîm and the Arab
chief threw themselves from their horses and joined in a
cordial embrace. The sight was not new to me, yet it was
most interesting. Each rested his hands upon the shoulder
of the other, and laid his head upon his neck; or, to use the
expressive words of Scripture, "He fell on his neck, and
kissed him" (Gen. xxvii. 33). We were now invited, and
pressed with genuine Arab warmth to go to the camp. "O
my lords," said the chief, addressing us, "pass not away, I
pray you, from your servant. The sun is high; the day is
198
THE LAND OF THE PHILISTINES.
hot; honour his house with your presence; let him kill a
sheep, and set bread before you, and then depart in peace."
We respectfully declined, pleading the distance we had yet
to ride, and the absence of our servants. Amid all their
wildness and waywardness, a hospitality worthy of the old
patriarchs is still practised by these sons of the desert. I
have narrated the incident, and accurately translated the
language used, because it illustrates such passages as Gen.
xviii., and xix. 2.
ASHDOD.
On approaching Ashdod we were all charmed with the
beauty of the site, and the wonderful richness of the coun-
try immediately around it. We had left the line of the
great caravan road to Gaza and Egypt, and had turned
into a beaten track leading straight to the village. It
crosses a vale, some three miles wide, and extending far to
the eastward;-perfectly level, and one unbroken expanse
of golden corn, the richest I had anywhere seen in Pales-
tine, rivalling even the best parts of Bashan.
There was
not a fence, nor tree, nor house upon it. Our path was
bordered by the tall ripe grain; and our attendants plucked
the ears as they rode along, "and did eat, rubbing them in
their hands" (Luke vi. 1). We could here see how true to
nature was the illustration in the parable of the sower,—
"And as he sowed, some fell by the wayside" (Mark iv. 4).
When the husbandman sows such fields as these, some
seeds must necessarily fall upon the unfenced, beaten
tracks, which traverse them in every direction.
The plain sweeps the northern base of the low, rounded
hill on which once stood the royal city of Ashdod. The
temples, palaces, and houses are all gone. The dust of
centuries has covered them. Terraced orchards of figs and
olives, apricots and pomegranates, now occupy their places,
clothing the hill-side from base to summit. The modern
village of Esdûd, a confused group of mud hovels, lics em
bowered on the eastern slope. It bears the ancient name;
199
but we might truly change it to Ichabod, for its glory is
departed.
We rode to it through winding lanes, hedged with the
giant cactus, round whose shapeless stems, and quaint
branches and leaves, the convolvulus and honeysuckle had
woven garlands of bright flowers. The village is wretched
in the extreme. Groups of hungry-looking men and squalid
women lounged lazily in the dirty lanes, and on the dusty
roofs, gazing listlessly on the strangers, and scarcely able
to muster energy enough to curse the infidel Frank. As
we looked on them and their miserable dwellings, the words
of Zechariah flashed upon our memory: "A bastard shall
dwell in Ashdod, and I will cut off the pride of the Philis-
tines." We climbed to the top of the hill. The temple of
Dagon, in which the ark of the Lord was put, must have
stood here; for the sea is visible, and Dagon, "the fish
god," was doubtless placed where he could look out over
the element he was supposed to personify. Not a vestige
of the temple is there now. Along the southern declivity
old building stones, with fragments of columns and sculp-
tured capitals, are piled up in the fences of little fields, and
in the walls of goat and sheep pens, showing how time, and
God's unchangeableness, have converted prophecy into his-
tory: "And the sea-coast shall be dwellings and cottages
for shepherds, and folds for flocks."
DESOLATION OF ASII DOD.
How sad, and yet how glorious is the view from the top
of that hill, beneath which the dust of a mighty city lies
dishonoured! On the one side the noble plain, stretching
away to the foot of Judah's mountains, here and there cul-
tivated, but mostly neglected and desolate, yet all naturally
rich as in the palmiest days of Philistia's power. On the
other side a dreary, hopeless waste of drifting sand, washed
away yonder by the waves of the Mediterranean, and here,
at our feet, advancing with slow and silent, but resistless
step, covering, and to cover, flower and tree, ancient ruin
and modern hut, in one common tomb.
200
1
THE LAND OF THE PHILISTINES.
II.
"O thou sword of the Lord, how long will it be ere thou be quiet? Put up thyself into
thy scabbard, rest, and be still. How can it be quiet, seeing the Lord hath given
it a charge against Ashkelon, and against the sea-shore? There hath he appointed
it"—JER. xlvii. 6, 7.
We descended the hill of Ashdod, our horses leaping
lightly as mountain goats from terrace to terrace, spurning
the dust of the royal city, their iron hoofs ever and anon
ringing upon fragments of broken pillars and sculptured
stones. At the southern base of the hill, beside a minia-
ture lake, are the walls of an old khan, and near it a dilap-
idated mosque. Beside the latter lies a richly carved sar-
cophagus of white marble, long ago opened and rifled.
Here squatted a dervish-a dirty, ragged, miserable
wretch-mumbling his senseless prayers to Allah, telling
his beads, and swaying his body to and fro. He never
turned his head nor moved a muscle as we rode up to him,
but continued to look with a dreamy, vacant stare on the
roofless khan, shattered mosque, and ruin-strewn site. He
might have passed for the genius of Ashdod as he sat thus
on the broken coffin. We saluted him, and he started as
if awakened from sleep. He entered freely into conversa-
tion, and showed far more intelligence and knowledge than
we could have given him credit for. He told us some le-
gends of Ashdod's ancient glory, strangely mixing up in
them the names of Daûd, Suleiman, Jalûd (Goliath), and
Mohammed. We listened with interest to his stories as we
took our mid-day rest beneath the shade of a mulberry tree.
It was pleasing to hear incidents of Scripture history-dis-
torted and exaggerated though they were from the lips
of this wild Moslem fanatic. Dervishes are a privileged
class in the East; half madmen half saints, they are wel-
comed everywhere as the special favourites of Heaven; they
have free access to every house, and never want for food or
lodging. I have seen a Turkish pasha descend from his
A DERVISH.
201
place and kiss the hand of a dervish who had wandered into
his council chamber; and when the mother of the late Sul-
tan joined the pilgrim caravan to Mecca, the train of gran-
dees that escorted her out of Damascus was led by a der-
vish, stark naked, mounted on a gorgeously caparisoned
charger, and attended by four grooms in the royal livery!
The clothes of these unfortunates, when they wear any, are
always in tatters, and their persons and habits are disgust-
ingly filthy. As I sat and looked at this squalid dervish
amid the ruins of Ashdod, and as I reflected on the privi-
leges enjoyed by his class, in ancient as well as modern
times, I was strongly reminded of that romantic episode in
the life of King David when he took refuge in another of
Philistia's royal cities. He thought he might have es-
caped unnoticed; but he was recognised at once as the con-
queror of Goliath.
His fate appeared to be sealed. But
"he feigned himself mad in their hands;" he "scrabbled on
the doors of the gate, and let his spittle fall down upon
his beard,”—he acted the dervish, in fact; he acted well;
and his acting saved his life (1 Sam. xxi. 11-15).
An hour's gallop over bleak sandy downs, affording oc-
casional glimpses of the bright sea on the right, brought us
to the little village of Hamâmeh. The olive groves that
encircle it are fringed with vineyards, now fresh and beau-
tiful in their new and delicate foliage. We pressed our
panting steeds along winding lanes, hedged with giant cac-
tus, and shaded with dusky olives. Here again hedges and
trees were all wreathed with convolvulus of every colour,
while the vineyards, meadows, and corn-fields behind
blushed with poppies and anemones. It was a lovely scene,
and after the burning sandy downs, and the sun-scorched
plains, we thought it a paradise: The hedges so trim;
the olive-shade so dense; the young vine shoots so green;
the flowers so gay; the fields of melons and cucumbers
so neat; the grain so wonderfully luxuriant. Here, we
thought, at least the curse has not fallen on Philistia. Ą
202
THE LAND OF THE PHILISTINES.
sharp turn in the road suddenly and sadly dispelled this
pleasing delusion. Close on the right now rose mounds of
drifting sand. We could see that they are advancing,—
slowly, steadily, - burying everything in their course.
Fields of wheat, sown only a few months ago, were already
partly covered. Vineyards were all but obliterated ;—here
and there a topmost branch, still retaining its foliage, waved
over its own tomb. Further back, traces of olive groves,
some of the larger trees standing in great bowls of sand,
their trunks embedded, but the motion of the branches and
the sweep of the wind beneath their foliage, had as yet
kept the top free. Their graves were already made, how-
ever, and their days were numbered. Others had only just
been covered up, and two or three green twigs projecting
from the smooth sand-mounds marked their places.
It was a melancholy sight. It impressed me more deeply
than anything I had ever seen. One is in some degree pre-
pared for ruined palace and temple, desolate city and yil-
lage. Man's proudest works are still perishable; but the
face, the features, the resources of nature are generally sup-
posed to be permanent. We rode on, gazing and wonder-
ing, our horses sinking deep at every footstep into the soft,
fine sand. Then taking out my Bible, I could not refrain
from reading to my companions the strange and terrible.
doom pronounced on this country by the Hebrew prophet
five-and-twenty centuries ago:-"Woe unto the inhabitants
of the sea-coasts! the word of the Lord is against you; O
Canaan, the land of the Philistines, I will even destroy thee,
and there shall be no inhabitant!" (Zeph. ii. 5.)
We had halted for some time on the top of a mound to
get a wider view of the country and a clearer idea of the
destruction impending over it. Selîm could not understand
With manifest impatience he pointed once and again
to the sun now sinking in glory behind the sand-hills. At
last he could wait no longer. With a wild whoop, and a
flourish of his rifle, he dashed his heavy stirrups into the
us.
CHARMS OF TENT LIFE.
203
flanks of his fiery Arab, and disappeared through the en-
trance of a shady lane. We all followed at a hard gallop,
and in a few minutes were beside our truant guide in the
bustling streets of Mejdel, with a score of noisy dogs at
our heels, and troops of children at the open doors and on
the house-tops, screaming to their fellows to come and see
the Franjîs with the kettles on their heads. Leaving the
village behind, and winding through an olive grove, we
came to an open glade, where our tents were pitched, and
all ready for reception.
TENT LIFE.
What a charm there is in tent life on the hills and plains
of Palestine! It presents such a contrast to the staid rou-
tine, alike of labour and recreation in our island home, to
the rapidity and regularity of rail and hotel, that one can
The sense of
scarcely think himself in the same world.
complete freedom, of absolute independence, is strange and
new. Then there is the dash of danger, the exhilarating
effect of pure air and exercise, and, above all, the magic in-
fluence of place-of sacred and historic associations ever
crowding on the mind, suggested and awakened by names
and scenes, all of them of hoary antiquity, and yet all fami-
liar as household words and childhood's home. Every spot
on which we tread is holy. Every ruin we pass by has a
place in history. Every mountain and vale the eye roams
over has a story written in the oldest and best of books.
All we see belongs to and illustrates the past. The cos-
tumes of the people, the implements of husbandry, the
houses, the tents, are all such as were familiar to Abraham ;
and the salutations are the very same with which Abraham
was greeted when he visited the Philistine lords at Gerar,
or bargained for the field of Machpelah at Hebron. We
roam through these hallowed scenes all the day, and when
evening comes, we select some grassy spot beside bubbling
fountain or old well. We dismount; and then, as if by
204
THE LAND OF THE PHILISTINES.
magic, horses are picketted, tents are pitched, fires are kin-
dled, and all got ready in true gipsy style-in patriarchal
style, I should say for thus the old patriarchs lived and
travelled through these very hills and plains.
The sun goes down in a blaze of glory; the brief twilight
declines to a faint purple streak along the western horizon;
the stars come out like crystal lamps hung to the black
vault of heaven, or it may be the moon sheds her clear sil-
very light on the landscape, making it look like a sepia-
sketch by some master hand. Dusky figures now group
themselves in a circle round the watch-fire, and we retire to
our tents to write up our journals, or read again with new
interest the story of the places we have visited during the
day. The Bible is drawn forth, the best and most accurate
of all Handbooks for Palestine; and old Reland, with his
classic references and historic incidents, all ready to the
scholar's hand. Here is the tale of Ekron and the ark.
We now learn with surprise that Ashdod, which appeared,
as we passed through it, so poor and so wretched, once
stood a siege of twenty-nine years against the whole forces.
of Egypt under Psammiticus-the longest siege on record.
We find, too, that Mejdel, the village beside us, is that
Migdal-gad, which was allotted with fifteen other cities in
this plain to the tribe of Judah (Josh. xv. 37). And it was
also that Magdala, where Herodotus tells us Pharaoh-necho
conquered the Syrians. For the classical scholar, the Bible-
student, and the earnest Christian, tent-life and travel in
Palestine have an unceasing charm. And in after years,
amid other scencs, I can tell from sweet experience that the
days and weeks and months spent there will appear as spots
of bright sunshine on the cloudy landscape of memory.
THRESHING FLOORS AND THRESHING INSTRUMENTS.
The threshing-floors of Mejdel were near our tents. We
went over to them in the grey twilight. They are circles
of smooth ground fifteen to twenty yards in diameter.
THRESHING-INSTRUMENTS OF IRON.
4
205
Each had on it a heap of newly-reaped grain; and round
the outer edges of the heaps were broad flattened belts,
where the "instruments" had already been at work. La-
bour had ceased for the night, and the oxen were feeding
freely on the half-trodden grain, as if their masters were
resolved to obey to the letter the Scripture command,
"Thou shalt not muzzle the ox when he treadeth out the
corn " (Deut. xxv. 4). The "threshing-instruments" are
flat, heavy, wooden slabs, some five feet long by three
wide, slightly turned up in front. The under surface is
thickly studded with knobs of hard stone or iron. A mas-
sive prison-door, with its rows of projecting nail-heads, will
give the best idea of a mowrej, as the instrument is now
called. Each is drawn by a "yoke of oxen." The driver
stands on the mowrej; and the goad, with which he urges
on and directs the movements of his team, is a formidable
weapon. It is sometimes ten feet long, and has a sharp iron
point. We could now see that the feat of Shamgar, who
"slew of the Philistines six hundred men with an ox-
goad," was not so very wonderful as some have been accus-
tomed to think (Judges iii. 31). The oxen advance in front,
"treading out" the grain, and the mowrej follows, crushing
and cutting the straw with its "teeth," till it is reduced
almost to dust (2 Kings xiii. 7). How graphic are the
words of Isaiah, "Behold I will make thee a new sharp
threshing instrument having teeth: thou shalt thresh the
mountains, and beat them small, and thou shalt make the
hills as chaff!" (xli. 15.) How terrible must have been the
cruelty inflicted by Damascus on Gilead, when Amos thus
describes it: "They have threshed Gilead with threshing
instruments of iron!" (ii. 3.)
The people were at their evening meal.
Each group
squatted in a circle round a huge bowl of burghul-masters
and servants, with equal freedom, tearing off little bits of
thin soft bread, and using them as spoons to lift the savoury
stew thus dipping their "morsels " (Ruth ii. 14), or
206
THE LAND OF THE PHILISTINES.
(C
sops" (John xiii. 26), into the dish. It was a most inter-
esting scene, again bringing vividly before our minds the
narrative of the threshing-floors of Boaz at Bethlehem.
ASCALON.
With the first dawn we were in the saddle, and bounding
away through the groves of Mejdel. The morning air was
fragrant with the perfume of wild flowers, and filled with
the sweet, soft "voice of the turtle," which seemed to float
from tree to tree-now behind, now in front, now close on
the right, now far away on the left, as if given back by a
thousand echoes. The groves and fields are soon left be-
hind, and we enter the sandy waste. Giving our eager
horses the rein, they plunge on madly, over ridge and
through hollow. The Mediterranean soon came into view;
and a noble view it was a boundless expanse of blue
water,
"Canopied by the blue sky,
So cloudless, clear, and purely beautiful,
That God alone was to be seen in heaven."
Before us, on the shore, was a green oasis, in the midst
of the white waste of sand. Orchards of apples and apri-
cots, palm trees rising gracefully over them, and the soft
and varied foliage of vines and pomegranates forming a
dense underwood. Behind this desert paradise, and pro-
tecting it from the all-devouring drift, rose what appeared
to be a line of jagged cliffs. We rode straight to the oasis,
and entering, discovered in the midst of it the little village
of Jûreh. Looking up we now saw that the cliffs resolved
themselves into the ruined ramparts of Ascalon. We rode
Our horses saw the rugged heights and seemed to
know their task. Onward and upward they proceed, now
gathering their feet close together on a block of masonry,
now springing lightly as gazelles across a chasm, now
scrambling painfully up the shattered wall; and at length,
with a leap and a snort of triumph, gaining the very sum-
mit of the battlements.
on.
DESOLATION OF ASCALON.
207
What a scene of desolation there burst at once upon our
view! With all my previous experience of Syrian ruins-
and I had seen Bozrah and Kenath, Gadara and Samaria,
Baalbek and Palmyra-I was not prepared for this. Such
utter, terrible desolation I had never met before. The site
of Ascalon is in form like an old Roman theatre-the sea in
front, and the ground once occupied by the city, rising
gradually and uniformly to the wall, which runs in a semi-
circle from shore to shore. The whole site was before us.
Not a house, nor a fragment of a house remains standing.
Not a foundation of temple or palace can be traced entire.
One half of it is occupied with miniature fields, and vine-
yards, and fig-orchards; rubbish-mounds here and there
among them, and great heaps of hewn stones, and broken
shafts, and sculptured slabs of granite and marble.
rude fences exhibit similar painful evidences of ancient
wealth and magnificence.-The other half of the site was
still more fearfully desolate. It is so thickly covered with
drift sand, that not a heap of rubbish, not a vestige of a
ruin remains visible, save here and there where the top of
a column rises like a tombstone above the smooth surface.
The sand is fast advancing; it has already covered some
of the highest fragments of the southern and western wall,
and ere a quarter of a century has passed, the site of Ascu-
lon will have been blotted out for ever.
The
""
Dismounting, I took out my Bible and read the doom.
pronounced upon Ascalon by the prophets Zechariah and
Zephaniah, "Askelon shall not be inhabited"—" Aske-
lon shall be a DESOLATION (Zech. iv. 5; Zeph. ii. 4). As-
calon is a desolation; it shall not be, CANNOT be, inhabited!
As we stood there and looked, we said to each other, "The
eye of the omniscient God alone could have foreseen such
a doom as this."
We lingered long among the ruins of Ascalon; visiting
every rubbish-heap, and inspecting every column. The
walls were interesting to us, not so much from their high
208
THE LAND OF THE PHILISTINES.
antiquity, or the almost miraculous way in which they have
been rent and shattered and tumbled down in huge frag-
ments, as from the fact that they were last built, in crusad-
ing times, by our lion-hearted King Richard.
:
ᏀᎪᏃᎪ.
In
Gaza is ten miles from Ascalon as the crow flies.
three hours we were at our tents, which we found ready
pitched in an olive grove some distance from the town.
We had a long evening before us, and sufficient time to
see all the objects of interest in and around the place. We
were anxious to gain admission to the great mosque-the
only building of any historic note now standing in Gaza.
It was formerly a Christian church, built by the liberality
of the Empress Eudoxia, about A.D. 406. We were dis-
appointed, as we found the fanatical populace prepared to
resist by main force any attempt at intrusion.
Gaza still contains about 15,000 inhabitants. The town
resembles a cluster of large villages. The principal one
stands on the top of a low hill, and the others lie on the
plain at its base. The hill appears to be composed in a
great measure of the accumulated ruins of successive cities.
We can see portions of massive walls and the ends of old
columns cropping up everywhere from the rubbish. There
are no walls or defences of any kind; and the inhabitants
have long been known as a fierce and lawless set of fanat-
ics. Between Gaza and the sea is a belt of sand, about
three miles wide. A mile east of the town a ridge of low
hills runs parallel to the coast. Between the sand and
these hills the ground is of unrivalled fertility, and sup-
plies the town with abundance of the choicest fruit and
vegetables.
•
As we stood examining the architecture of the great
mosque, which occupies the crown of the hill, an old Mos-
lem sheikh came up, and said, pointing with his pipe to a
deep cutting in a mound of rubbish near us, "There is
}
SAMSON'S HILL AT GAZA.
209
Samson's Gate." "Who is Samson?" we asked. "A
giant who came to Ghuzzeh; and when the infidels who
then lived here shut the gate to keep him in, he pulled it
off, killed the keepers with a blow of the bar, and carried
the whole away under his arm.” "Where did he take the
gate to?" we again inquired. "To the top of that hill
where you see the wely,"-turning the end of his long pipe
to the highest point of the ridge to the eastward.
The sheikh was in all probability right. Whether or no,
we were gratified to hear such a tradition lingering on this
spot. I wandered away alone through the gardens and
orchards, and climbed Samson's Hill. I was amply repaid
for my toil. The view is wide and most interesting. The
town lay at my feet, with its circuit of verdure; beyond it
the white sandy downs; and farther still, the Mediterra-
nean, gleaming in the sunlight. On the south, the great
road to Egypt, so often trodden by the Pharaohs, running
away along the plain, a meandering line. The valley of
Gerar was visible,-a depression in the plain, extending
from the coast far inland. I could see in it the black tents
of the Arabs, who now feed their flocks on the pastures
once so highly prized by Abraham and Isaac, (Gen. xx.
1-16; xxvi.) On the east and north-east was spread out
the great undulating plain of Philistia, patched with green
and red in the foreground, but dissolving into a uniform
grey in the distance, and shut in in the far distance by the
mountains that encircle Hebron, now ruddy with the even-
ing sun. "Samson took the doors of the gate of the city,
and the two posts, and went away with them, bar and all,
and put them upon his shoulders, and carried them up to
the top of an hill that is before Hebron" (Judges xvi. 3).
I was now convinced the sheikh's tradition was true, and
that I stood on the very spot where Samson deposited the
gates of Gaza.
210
THE LAND OF THE PHILISTINES.
III.
"In many a heap the ground
Heaves, as if Ruin in a frantic mood
Had done his utmost. Here and there appears,
As left to show his handy-work not ours,
An idle column, a half-buried arch,
A wall of some great temple.
"
""
The road from Gaza to Jerusalem "is desert," as we learn
from the incidental remark of Luke (Acts viii. 26), and as
I can testify from personal observation. It runs across a
dreary, parched plain, which, on the right and left, extends
to the horizon, and in front is shut in by the blue mountains
of Judah. On emerging from the olive groves of Gaza, the
desert was before us-bare, white, and monotonous, without
a solitary tree, or the "shadow of a great rock," or a sin-
gle patch of verdure. As we rode on we had overhead
the bright sky and blazing sun; and beneath, the flinty
soil, reflecting burning rays that scorched the weeds and
stunted camel-thorn, and made them crackle like charred
sticks under our horses' feet. As the day advanced, the
sirocco came upon us, blowing across the great "Wilder-
ness of Wandering." At first it was but a faint breath,
hot and parching, as if coming from a furnace. It increased
slowly and steadily. Then a thick haze, of a dull yellow or
brass colour, spread along the southern horizon, and ad-
vanced, rising and expanding, until it covered the whole
face of the sky, leaving the sun, a red globe of fire, in the
midst. We now knew and felt that it was the fierce si-
moom. In a few moments, fine impalpable sand began tó
drift in our faces, entering every pore. Nothing could ex-
clude it. It blew into our eyes, mouths, and nostrils, and
penetrated our very clothes, causing the skin to contract,
the lips to crack, and the eyes to burn. Respiration be
came difficult. We sometimes gasped for breath; and
then the hot wind and hotter sand rushed into our mouths
like a stream of liquid fire. We tried to urge on our
THE SIMOOM.
1
211
horses; but though chafing against curb and rein only an
hour before, they were now almost insensible to whip and
spur. We looked and longed for shelter from that pitiless.
storm, and for water to slake our burning thirst; but there
was none. The plain extended on every side, smooth as a
lake, to the circle of yellow haze that bounded it. No
friendly house was there; no rock or bank; no murmuring
stream nor solitary well. It seemed to us as if the prophet-
ic curse pronounced by the Almighty on a sinful and apos-
tate nation was now being fulfilled. We could see, at
least, in the whole face of nature, in earth and sky and
storm, how terrible and how graphic that curse was:-
"Thy heaven that is over thy head shall be brass, and the
earth that is under thee shall be iron. The Lord shall
make the rain of the land powder and dust: from heaven
shall it come down upon thee" (Deut. xxviii. 23, 24).
LACHISH AND EGLON.
The storm was at its height when we saw, rising up be-
fore us, a low white mound. As we approached we could
distinguish heaps of ruins and rubbish; and on reaching it,
and pressing our panting steeds up its shelving sides in
search of some rude shelter, we scrambled over large hewn
stones, and fragments of marble columns, with here and
there a piece of carved cornice or sculptured pediment pro-
truding from the dust. Our guide had dashed on in front,
and we eagerly followed, heedless of stones, and pits, and
prostrate houses-in silence, but hoping for some kind of
relief. A cry of joy burst from the whole party as, on
passing the crest of the tell, we saw a low broken wall, and
not far from it a number of stone troughs round the mouth
of an old well. The well was dry, but we crouched down
under the shelter of the wall, and our poor horses came
close to our feet, lowering their heads and shutting their
eyes to escape the drifting sand. In about an hour the
simoom had spent its fury, and we prepared to resume our
212
THE LAND OF THE PHILISTINES.
route. "What place is this?" I said to Selîm, who lay be-
side me, coiled up in the folds of his capote. "Um Lâkis,"
he replied. Um Lâkis! This then is all that marks the
site and bears the name of Lachish, which Joshua besieged
and captured (Josh x. 31–33). Starting to my feet I ran
to the top of the mound. Round the spot where I stood
lay the heaped-up ruins and the dust of a once great and
royal city, now deserted and utterly desolate. From the
ruins I looked away out over the plain where the Israelites
were marshalled, having approached from the north; then
I turned to the south, to see the route by which the troops
of “Horam, King of Gezer, came up to help Lachish." The
brief conflict, and the decisive victory of Joshua, must have
been distinctly seen by the inhabitants. And that plain
which stretches away northward to the horizon, was the
scene of another event-one of the most mysterious and ter-
rible recorded in history. The vast army of Sennacherib
had "
come up" against "the fenced cities of Judah."
They encamped first against Lachish, and then marched on
Libnah, a neighbouring city (2 Kings xviii. 13, et seq.)
The monarch, in the pride of his power, when at the head
of his victorious soldiers, dared to defy the God of Israel.
"Who are they," he asked, "among all the gods of the
countries, that have delivered their country out of mine.
hand, that the LORD should deliver Jerusalem out of mine
hand?" The LORD himself replied to the impious ques-
tion:" And it came to pass that night, that the angel of
the LORD went out, and smote in the camp of the Assyrians
an hundred four-score and five thousand" (xix. 35).
"Like the leaves of the forest when summer is green,
That host with their banners at sunset were seen;
Like the leaves of the forest when autumn hath blown,
That host on the morrow lay withered and strewn.
For the Angel of death spread his wings on the blast,
And breathed on the face of the foe as he passed;
And the eyes of the sleepers waxed deadly and chill,
And their hearts but once heaved, and for ever were still!"
EGLON.
213
May not the angel of death have spread his wings on the
blast of some such storm as that which we had just en-
countered? Had it been only a little more violent, and of
a little longer duration, no army, exposed to its fury on such
a plain, could have survived it.
we.
From Lachish Joshua passed on to Eglon," and so did
We were now in the track of the great conqueror,
treading the very soil which he trod more than thirty cen-
turies ago, and visiting the sites of those royal cities which
he wrested from the Canaanite kings. As we read the brief
narrative of his marches and his victories, we were struck
with the minute accuracy of his topography. The distance
from Lachish to Eglon is just about two miles; and it was
thus easy for the Israelites, after the capture of the former,
to march on the latter, and "take it the same day" (Josh.
x. 34, 35).
Eglon, like Lachish, is utterly desolate. It is a shapeless
mass of ruins and rubbish, strewn over a rounded hillock,
with two or three light marble shafts standing up among
them, like tombstones in an old cemetery.
Still we rode on eastward over the undulating desolate
plain. Our course lay along the southern border of Philis-
tia, where the plain has been overrun for many a century
by the wandering Ishmaelites of Et-Tîh, and where exten-
sive cultivation and settled habitation are alike impossible.
What it is now it appears to have always been-debate-
able land. From the line of our route southward to the
valley of Gerar, Abraham and Isaac pastured their flocks;
and their shepherds disputed with the Philistines about the
wells they dug. The pastures, then as now, were free and
abundant; but springs of water were too rare and precious.
to be retained or surrendered without a struggle. In our
ride of more than thirty miles that day we did not meet a
human being; and from the moment we left the fields of
Gaza till we passed in among the rocky spurs of the hills of
Judah, we did not see a single sign of human life. We
214
THE LAND OF THE PHILISTINES.
saw many towns and villages in ruins-white mounds of
rubbish on the grey plain. The words of the prophet
were constantly in our minds and on our tongues. "O
Canaan, the land of the Philistines, I will even destroy
thee, that there shall be no inhabitant" (Zeph. ii. 5).
(Zeph. ii. 5). Some
miles further north the desolation is not so complete. I
had an opportunity during another tour, of visiting two
or three little villages still remaining there, and of seeing
noble fields of grain round them.
The sun was setting behind us as we crossed the ridge
that bounds the pleasant vale of Beit Jibrîn. We had now
left the Shephelah, "the low country," with its white.
downs and wide reaches of bare, desolate plain, and rich
corn fields, and we had entered the "hill country," with its
rocky ridges and conical tells, and shrubberies of dwarf
ilex, and green winding glens. The contrast was great, and
the change pleasant. Halting beneath the massive ruins of
Beit Jibrîn our tents were soon pitched, and we felt the
sweets of rest and sleep after a day of unusual fatigue and
suffering.
THE BORDER LAND OF JUDAH AND PHILISTIA.
When the stranger travels through the hill country,
which separates the Judean range from the Philistine plain,
his attention is arrested by many objects which seem
strange and almost inexplicable. The rich plains are in a
great measure deserted; yet the wildest recesses of these
hills are studded with villages. The people seem to have
selected for their abode the most rugged and inaccessible
localities they could possibly find. One would fancy they
had something of the spirit of the old hermits in them.
Here are villages built amid labyrinths of rocks; there they
are clinging like swallows' nests to the sides of precipices;
while away yonder, they are perched like feudal castles on
the tops of hills. Often, too, when riding through yawning
ravines, between beetling cliffs, where one would think no
BORDER LAND.
215
human being would voluntarily dwell, or could find means
of life, we are startled by groups of children, most of them
naked, springing out from holes and caves, and shouting
their wonder or delight at the strange costume of the trav-
ellers. Looking up we sec, far overhead, vines hanging in
festoons from the brows of jagged rocks, and miniature
corn-fields on shelving hill-tops, round which the eagles
sweep in graceful circles. We observe, too, that every an-
cient town and village was a fortress; and that every mod-
ern hamlet is capable of defence. Another remarkable
characteristic of this region is the multitude of its caves.
They are found wherever there is a trace of human habita-
tion-hewn in the soft calcareous rock, and so constructed
as to form secure magazines for grain, and safe places of
abode for the inhabitants in time of danger. The solution
of these anomalies is, that this has always been border land.
Every foot of it was keenly contested by the Israelites and
Philistines. At a later period the Idumeans invaded the
south and west of Palestine. From the fall of the Jewish
power to the present day, an unceasing warfare has been
waged between the roving freebooters of the plain and the
settled dwellers on the mountains.
The Bethogabra of the Jews, the Eleutheropolis of the
Greeks, the Beigiberin of the Crusaders, and the Beit Ji-
brîn of the Arabs, was for more than fifteen centuries the
chief fortress of the border land,-the key of the mountains,
and the defence of the great roads from Jerusalem and
Hebron to Gaza. The massive ruins of its castle, among
which the first dawn of the morning found us wandering,
show its ancient importance. But we were still more
deeply interested in the caverns excavated in the rocky
banks of the vale south of the ruins. Having procured
lights and a guide we closely examined the three principal
groups. They are unique in plan and character,-altogeth-
er different from the temple-tombs of Egypt, and the beau-
tiful rock chambers of Petra, and the intricate sepulchres of
10
216
THE LAND OF THE PHILISTINES.
Jerusalem. Here are long ranges of bell-shaped chambers,
some of them seventy feet in diameter, and sixty high, con-
nected by arched doorways, and winding subterranean pas-
sages, and long flights of steps ascending and descending.
Many are entirely dark; others are lighted by a circular
aperture at the top; the roofs of others have partially fall-
en in, leaving jagged openings through which the sunlight
streams, and long brambles hang down. Side chambers,
like galleries, are occasionally seen opening high up in the
wall. Near and among them, also, are tombs, ranging from
twenty to sixty feet in length, with tiers of recesses for
bodies on each side. It is a strange, romantic spot this
vale of Beit Jibrîn. One might spend days roaming
through its mysterious caves, which look like subterranean
towns. The remains on the surface, too, are well worth the
attention of the antiquarian and the architect. Cyclopean
foundations, indicating the Jewish or Phoenician age, solid
walls, and deep wells of the Roman period, the light and
picturesque Gothic of Crusading times, are all displayed in
groups through this valley. And away at its southern ex-
tremity is a bare conical hill, honey-combed with caverns.
That is the site of Mareshah, where Asa defeated the army
of the Ethiopians, (2 Chron. xiv.)
Sending tents and baggage direct to Beit Nettîf, on the
side of the Valley of Elah, we set out with our guide to
explore the border land between Beit Jibrîn and Bethshe-
mesh. On we sped at a dashing pace, invigorated by the
mountain air-up rocky banks, over rounded ridges with
bare crowns of naked limestone, through tangled brakes of
prickly ilex and wild plum, and across green vales, down
which wound dry torrent beds, covered with white glis
tening pebbles, and fringed with the acacia and oleander.
Kudna, Dhikrîn, and Deir Dubbân were visited in succes-
sion, and their caverns inspected, similar in all respects to
those above described, except that some of them are now
converted into cisterns, on which the people depend for a
supply of water.
&.
SITE OF GATH DISCOVERED.
GATH.
!
217
One object of my tour in Philistia was to discover, if pos-
sible, the long lost site of Gath. Since the days of Jerome.
it has been unknown; and even the wonderful geographical
skill of Robinson was unable to trace it out. I need not
here detail those incidental allusions and topographical no-
tices of the sacred writers, and those accurate measurements
and references of Eusebius and Jerome, which serve to in-
dicate the district in which it must have stood. It is enough
to say that I was satisfied they all pointed to some place on
the route we were now pursuing. It was, therefore, with
an interest approaching to excitement we surveyed the
position and examined the remains of every village and
ruin we passed. But from the moment we gained the
crest of the first ridge north of Beit Jibrîn, there was one
prominent object away before us which attracted our chief
attention—a bare, white, conical hill, standing on the very
edge of the great plain, and yet rising high enough to com-
mand all the rocky spurs up to the very base of the moun-
tains. As valley after valley was passed, it became more
and more conspicuous. At length we reached it, and rode
over rubbish heaps and terraced vineyards to its summit.
The hill rises about one hundred feet above the ridge that
joins it on the east, and some two hundred over the level
plain that sweeps its western base. It is crowned with the
foundations of an old castle, and round its sides are nu-
merous remains of ancient buildings. The view from it is
most extensive. The whole plain of Philistia was spread
out before us, variegated with fields of yellow corn, and red
fallow land, and long reaches of grey wastes. Away on
the south-western horizon the white downs of Gaza and
Ascalon mingle with the glittering waters of the Mediter-
ranean. On the west we could see the little hill of Ash-
dod dark with olive groves: further to the right Ekron;
and further still the white tower of Ramleh. The moun-
218
THE LAND OF THE PHILISTINES.
tains of Judah rise up on the east in dark frowning masses;
every peak crowned with village or ruin, whose name car-
ries us away thousands of years back.
The modern name of this hill, Tell es-Safieh, gives no
clue to its ancient name. The Crusaders built a castle on
it in the twelfth century, and called it Blanche-garde; and
the surrounding country became the scene of some of the
daring adventures of Richard Coeur-de-lion. This hill, if
fortified as it evidently was from the earliest ages-would
be the key of the Philistine plain on the east. Watchmen
from its summit could see every hostile band that would
attempt to break forth from the mountain defiles. The
warlike Philistines would never have overlooked a position
so commanding, and naturally so strong; one so well-fitted
also for defending those vast corn-fields in which lay their
wealth and their power. From the moment I set my foot
upon Tell es-Safieh, I felt convinced that it is the site of the
royal city of Gath.
What a life-like vividness did this discovery throw on
some of the most romantic incidents of early Jewish his-
tory! The gigantic Anakim were annihilated by Joshua
throughout the whole land; "Only in Gaza, and Gath, and
in Ashdod," those impregnable fortresses they remained
(Josh. xi. 22). And from this place Goliath—one of the.
last of the giant race-marched out in his panoply of mail,
the acknowledged champion of the Philistines, to threaten
and defy the Israelites in the neighbouring "valley of
Elah," which we shall visit anon, (1 Sam. xvii.) And
hither, a few years later, David came, a homeless refugee.
When recognised he feigned himself mad, and easily es-
I
caped into those thickets that cover the hills around.
had often wondered why David should have fled to Gath;
and why, having at length propitiated the Philistine lords,
he should have made it his home. Now, on the spot, I saw
the reason. Here he was perfectly secure from Saul. He
was on the very border of his kingdom, besides, within a
VALLEY OF ELAH.
219
few hours' march of his native Bethlehem; thus able to keep
up an uninterrupted communication with his friends through
those mountain passes, and ready at a moment's notice tỏ
take advantage of any turn of events that might seem to
favour his ambitious designs.
Descending through the terraced vineyards that cover the
whole slopes of Tell es-Safieh, we were struck with the ap-
propriateness of the old name Guth, "wine-press," for such
a site even yet. An hour's hard ride up a green vale, fra-
grant with thyme, and spangled with wild flowers, brought
us into the lower part of the "Valley of Elah." Before us,
on the crest of a rocky ridge, was Jarmuth. On our right
rose the ruin-crowned tell of Zacharîeh, doubtless the site
of ancient Azekah. Here then we were close to the place
where Joshua captured and hanged the five kings, (Josh.
x.) After the defeat of Gibeon, and the rout of Beth-horon,
the fugitives ran along the borders of the plain "to Azekah
and Makkedah." Hotly pursued, they seem to have made
for Jarmuth. They had got so far up the valley of Elah;
but now, wearied and way-worn, they were unable to at-
tempt the steep ascent; and seeing the foe close behind they
hid themselves "in a cave at Makkedah;" one of those
caves with which the whole region abounds. Their fate is
well known. About a mile above this spot, on the right
side of the valley, is a ruin called El-Klêdiah, answering
to the position, and bearing some resemblance to the name
of Makkedah. Two hours more over rugged hills brought
us to
BETH-SHEMESH.
Beth-shemesh, "The House of the Sun," does not contain
a single house now; heaps of ruins strewn over a broad
ridge, and half concealed by thistles and poppies, and bright
marigolds, mark the site of the old city. In modern times
its name has been somehow changed to Ain-esh-Shems,
"The Fountain of the Sun;" and yet, strange to say, there
is no fountain here either. But the situation is a noble one.
*
220
THE LAND OF THE PHILISTINES.
A broad rich vale runs down on each side of the swelling
ridge meeting in front, and then opening a mile or two be-
yond into the great plain.
We had around us at Beth-shemesh the native country
of Samson, and from its ruins we could see the scenes of
some of the leading events of his strange life. Beyond the
fertile valley on the north rises a steep hill, crowned with a
Muslem wely and a small village,—that is Zorah, the home
of Manoah, and Samson's birth-place (Judges xiii. 2). It
overlooks the whole Philistine plain, and most of the bor-
der land. Samson must thus have been familiar from
childhood with border raids and border warfare; he must
have been familiar with the power and the tyranny of the
Philistines. Many a band of them, doubtless, did he see
marching up the glen beneath his father's house, and re-
turning again laden with spoils of his brethren. Many an
act of rapine, and cruel outrage, and barbarous murder, had
left an impress deep and lasting on his mind, stirring him
in after years to revenge. Some two miles west of Beth-
shemesh, on the borders of the plain, is Timnath, where
Samson got his first wife (xiv. 1). It was in "going down"
from the heights of Zorah to Timnath-somewhere along
the rugged banks of that intervening valley-that he killed
the young lion. That valley itself, now called Sorár, is
most probably the "Valley of Sorek," where the infamous
Delilah dwelt (xvi. 4). It was among these hills, and the
recesses of those rugged mountains eastward, that he caught
the "three hundred jackals" (such appears to be the true
meaning of the Hebrew word), and tying them tail to tail,
with torches between them, let them go at harvest time
among the standing corn of the Philistines. What havoc
they must have made as they sped from field to field, from
vineyard to olive grove! And with what wild delight
must Samson have viewed, from the heights of Zorah, the
streams of fire sweeping onward and outward in every di-
rection, and the conflagration spreading from stream to
DEATH OF SAMSON.
stream, until the whole plain was one sheet of flame! Poor
Samson was betrayed at last :-
"Ask for this great deliverer now, and find him
Eyeless in Gaza, at the mill with slaves,
Himself in bonds under Philistian yoke.
(C
""
221
Fatal bondage his to the Philistine lords! Savage cruelty
theirs, but to be returned ten-fold on their own devoted
heads! Thus does Milton describe the last act of Samson's
life:-
Oh, dearly bought revenge, yet glorious!
Living or dying thou hast fulfilled
The work for which thou wast foretold
To Israel, and now liest victorious
Among thy slain, self-killed;
Not willingly, but tangled in the fold
Of dire necessity, whose law in death conjoined
Thee with thy slaughtered foes in number more
Than all thy life had slain before."
Samson's mangled body was brought up from Gaza by his
brethren, and buried on his native hill, "between Zorah
and Eshtaol" (xvi. 31).
We lingered long amid the ruins of Beth-shemesh, read-
ing and pondering these and other incidents of sacred his-
tory, which the places round us naturally suggested. The
sun went down into the waters of the Mediterranean in a
halo of glory. The purple shadows of the wild glens grad-
ually waxed deeper and darker; and the jagged outline of
hills and mountains was drawn in bold relief upon the blue
sky. The bright stars came out one by one. Still we lin-
gered, reluctant to turn away for ever from a spot so
strangely interesting. A long, low, plaintive wail suddenly
broke the deep silence of the mountains over us. Another,
like an echo, answered it from the valley. Then another,
and another, louder, and clearer, and nearer, until mountain,
glen, and distant plain resounded with a ceaseless howl of
jackals. They seem to be as numerous yet as they were in
Samson's days.
At length Selîm urged us to mount, reminding us that
222
THE LAND OF THE PHILISTINES.
Beit Nettîf was still far distant, and that the road over
the mountains was both difficult and dangerous. For the
danger we cared not; experience had long ago taught us
that brigands never infest the mountain roads by night.
But we had only ridden a very short distance when we
found that the path, if path there ever had been from Beth-
shemesh to Beit Nettîf, was hopelessly lost. Our situation
was anything but pleasant. There was no village within
miles of us. We thought of a bivouac; but our poor horses
had eaten nothing since the morning, and there was neither
food nor water for them here. On we pressed, therefore,
over rock and bank, through thicket and torrent-bed, guided
in our course by the stars, and trusting to the sagacity of
our horses for the rest. For nearly three weary hours we
rode on, gradually ascending, and then reached the top of
a rugged ridge, and saw lights moving about before us.
We fired a shot, and it was immediately answered. A
shout from Selîm was replied to by our muleteers and serv-
ants, who had come in search of us. My readers may well
suppose that having been more than thirteen hours in the
saddle we were ready for dinner and bed on reaching our
tents.
THE VALLEY OF ELAH.
The morning sun had already bathed in ruddy light the
mountain tops round Beit Nettîf, and thrown their shadows
far out across Philistia's plain, when mounting our horses
we began the steep descent, through terraced vineyards
and olive groves, to "the Valley of Elah." A long reach
of the valley lay at our feet. It is about a quarter of a
mile wide, with rich alluvial bottom, and sides rising steep-
ly, but not precipitously, to the height of five hundred feet
or more. Through the centre winds a torrent bed, now
dry, but thickly covered with smooth white stones, and
fringed with shrubs. On reaching the valley we turned to
the right and rode about a mile down it through corn fields.
}
BATTLE OF DAVID AND GOLIATH.
223
Then we saw on the left bank above us the grey ruins of
Shocoh, and we knew that we now stood on the battle-field
of David and Goliath. "The Philistines gathered together
their armies to battle, and were gathered together at Sho-
coh..... And Saul and the men of Israel were gathered
together, and pitched by the Valley of Elah, and set the
battle in array against the Philistines. And the Philis-
tines stood on a mountain on the one side, and Israel
stood on a mountain on the other side; and there was a
valley between them" (1 Sam. xvii. 1, et seq.) We saw
the positions of the two armies at a single glance. The
Philistines were ranged along the side of the ridge at Sho-
coh, and the Israelites occupied the declivity opposite. Be-
tween them lay the valley,-then called Elah, from its
"terebinth” trees; and now Sumpt, from its "acacias."
Down that left bank came Goliath, his brazen armour glit-
tering in the sunbeams; down the opposite bank came
David with his sling and staff. Reaching the torrent-bed
he selected "five smooth stones," and put them in his scrip.
"Am I a dog," cried the haughty Philistine, looking at
David's boyish face and simple equipments, "that thou
comest to me with staves?" "I come to thee,” replied the
youth, "in the name of the Lord of Hosts, the God of Is-
rael, whom thou hast defied." The stone was fixed; the
sling was whirled round by a skilful hand; with a sharp
twang the missile flew and pierced the brain of the impious
giant. His own sword did the rest. According to the cus-
tom of the time, David took the head and the spoils of his
foe, and carried them back to his comrades. The Philis-
tines fled in confusion; and the Israelites raising a shout of
triumph hurried away in pursuit.
I too went down into that torrent-bed, as near as I could
judge to the spot where David "chose the five smooth
stones," and I brought away "a smooth stone," which I
still retain as a memorial of the battle-field, and of one of
the happiest days of my life. Then turning from the Val-
224
THE LAND OF THE PHILISTINES.
ley of Elah, and from border land, I struck up the rugged
path that leads over the mountains to Hebron; and thus
ended my RIDE THROUGH THE LAND OF THE PHILISTINES.
That ride, with another along a different route made at a
later period, gave me a clearer understanding of some of the
most interesting episodes in Scripture history, than I could
ever have obtained otherwise. The early intercourse of the
patriarchs with the Philistine lords, the campaign of Josh-
ua, the restoration of the ark, the romantic story of Sam-
son, and the brilliant victory of David, became, when read
on the scenes of action, glowing life pictures. Nowhere
else in all my wanderings through Bible lands did the har-
mony between the Land and the Book appear more strik-
ing, more perfect, than in the plain of Philistia.
శాంతి రాకడ
GALILEE AND THE SEA-COAST.
-
ఆరంగాల జర్న
I.
Sharon and Carmel.
"The glory of Lebanon shall be given unto it, the excellency of Carmel and Sharon:
they shall see the glory of the Lord, and the excellency of our God."-ISA. xxxv. 2.
HARON and Carmel are enshrined in sacred poe-
try. In addition to the holy associations that
cluster round them as scenes of Bible history,
they bring up before the mind's eye plains
spangled with "the rose of Sharon," meadows powdered
with "the lily of the valley," uplands waving with "for-
ests," and mountains crowned with "the excellency of Car-
mel." Nor are one's glowing expectations much disap-
pointed when he traverses Sharon, or climbs the heights of
Carmel in early spring. The plain stretches out before
him as far as the eye can follow it, in gentle undulations of
luxuriant pasture, varied here and there by a clump of old
forest trees, or a thicket of canes and shrubs round a foun-
tain, or a grey tell strewn with the ruins of some primeval
city. And the mountain chain rises in easy slopes, wooded.
from base to summit; seamed by many a glen, and broken
by many a cliff. The curse has fallen lightly upon Sharon
and Carmel. Still it is true that the great cities which once
lined the sea-board are gone. The restless waves dash in
sheets of foam over the ingulphed ruins of its once famous
harbours. Dor and Cæsarea, Hepha and Athlit, are no
more. Towns and villages which thickly studded in an-
cient days inland plain and mountain side, are gone too.
Corn fields, olive groves, and vineyards are now few and
far between; and even the pastures are deserted save by
30
228
GALILEE AND THE SEA-COAST.
the flocks of a few poor nomads. Notwithstanding the
grass, and the flowers, and the beauty of Sharon, it "is like
a wilderness." "Its highways lie waste, the wayfaring
man ceaseth" (Isa. xxxiii. 9). And notwithstanding Car-
mel's waving woods and green forest glades, it has "shaken
off its fruit," the fruit of human industry. The mountain
still deserves its ancient name, "the fruitful." The " ex-
cellency (beauty) of Carmel" is yet conspicuous; but even
there, in the loveliest glades and richest dells, solitude keeps
unbroken sabbath.
SOUTHERN SHARON.
1
My first view of Sharon was from the sea. From the
vessel's deck I looked with as much eagerness as an old
Crusader on the white strand, and the sandy downs, and
the broad plain, shut in on the east by the blue hills of
Samaria. The cape of Carmel was far behind me, dipping
gracefully, but not so "bluff" as is usually represented in
pictures, into the Mediterranean. Away far ahead a little
white rounded hill began to rise slowly from a flat coast.
"What hill is that ?" I asked of the French officer at my
side. "That is Joppa." "And those ruins we passed
some time ago, which you can yet see yonder glittering in
the sun-what are they?" "The ruins of Cæsarea," was
the reply. Historic names are wonderfully suggestive.
Especially so when connected with sacred history, and
when the eye first rests on the places to which they are
attached. Memory then becomes a diorama. It brings
before us the great events of other ages. So it was with
me. In succession I saw the ships of Hiram conducting
rafts of cedar and pine along the sea to Joppa for Solomon's
Temple. I saw the great merchant vessel of Adramyttium
leaving the harbour of Cæsarea, while on its deck stood the
Apostle of the Gentiles, guarded by Roman soldiers, and
with fettered hands waving a final adieu to weeping friends.
I saw the proud galleys of the Crusaders bearing down
JOPPA.
229
upon the shore, crowded with mail-clad knights, Europe's
best and bravest warriors, bent on the recovery of the Holy
Sepulchre. And then, when the picture vanished, my eye
rested on deserted harbours, ruined cities, a dreary desolate
shore, silent alike to the bustle of commerce and the din of
battle; as if to show that while man is mortal, his glory
fleeting, and all his works perishable, God's Word is true
and can never fail. Five and twenty centuries ago that
Word pronounced the doom of Palestine: "I beheld, and,
lo, the fruitful place (Hebrew Carmel) was a wilderness,
and all the cities thereof were broken down at the presence
of the Lord, and by his fierce anger. For thus hath the
Lord said, The whole land shall be desolate" (Jer. iv. 26).
I landed at Joppa, a bustling town of five thousand in-
habitants, beautifully situated on the western slope of a
hill, looking down into the blue waters of the Mediterran-
ean. It is still the port of Jerusalem; but it has no har-
bour, and it is only under favourable circumstances of
wind and weather a vessel can ride at the distance of a mile
or so from the shore. Guided by a young Jew I went at
once to "the house of Simon the tanner." The house is
modern, but it probably occupies the old site, for its Mo-
hammedan owner considers it sacred. It stands "by the
sea-side," as St. Luke tells us (Acts x. 6); and from its
roof-"flat" now as in ancient times-I looked out on that
same boundless sea on which the apostle must have looked
when “he went up upon the house-top to pray." The hour
too was the same-"the sixth hour," or noon.
There was
something deeply impressive in being thus brought as it
were into immediate connection with that wondrous vision
which the Lord employed as a key to open the Gentile
world to Christ's Gospel.
From Simon's house I went through crooked streets to
the top of the hill. The way was not pleasant, but the
glorious view amply repaid me. On the land side Joppa
is girt about with its orchards-the finest in Palestine, and,
230
GALILEE AND THE SEA-COAST.
perhaps, unsurpassed in the world. Away beyond them
spreads out a boundless plain; on the north Sharon, and
on the south Philistia. My eye soon caught and followed
the line of the old road which winds northward along the
coast to Cæsarea. That was the road by which the apostle
Peter went on his divine mission to Cornelius, (Acts x.)
Lydda was hid behind a rising ground; but the mountains
of Judah were sharply defined against the bright eastern
sky, and their colouring was beautiful-shaded off from soft
greyish blue to deep purple.
To procure horses and a guide was a work of time and
trouble, and the afternoon was far advanced ere I rode out
of the crowded gate of Joppa. How pleasant was the
change from the heat and dust of the narrow streets to the
freedom and freshness of the country! It was autumn;
and never did autumn's richness appear to greater advan-
tage than in these orchards of Sharon. Orange, lemon, and
citron trees were there laden with golden fruit. Among
them appeared the russet foliage and bright red globes of
the pomegranate. Here and there the broad-leafed banana
grew in wild luxuriance, shut in by tall hedges and impen-
etrable thickets of cactus; while ever and anon palm trees
shot up far overhead, as if to show the great clusters of
dates that hung round their tapering necks, or to entice the
soft evening breezes to sport with their feathery foliage.
I took the road to Lydda-the same road by which
Peter was brought to raise Dorcas from the dead, after he
had, by his miraculous cure of Encas, converted "all that
dwelt in Lydda and Saron," (the Greek form of Sharon,
Acts ix. 34, seq.) For more than an hour I rode through
those shady, fragrant orchards, and then crossed the grey
monotonous plain to Lydda. Thence I went to the ancient
Gimzo (2 Chron. xxviii. 18), now a poor village, and on-
ward to the pass of Beth-horon, up which I wound my way
to Gibeon and Jerusalem. The southern end of Sharon,
which I thus crossed, measures about fifteen miles; while
SAMARIA.
231
the length of the plain from Joppa to Carmel is nearly fifty.
In addition to Joppa and Lydda, there are ten or twelve
villages in this part of the plain, and small portions of the
rich soil are cultivated by their inhabitants; but further
north the country is almost deserted.
NORTHERN SHARON.
We halted at the western gate of Samaria, waiting for
one or two stragglers, and to take a last look at the place.
The gate is a shapeless heap of ruins, forming the termina-
tion of the well-known colonnade. I was never more deeply
impressed with the minute accuracy of prophetic descrip-
tion, and the literal fulfilment of every detail, than when
standing on that spot. Samaria occupied one of the finest
sites in Palestine, a low, rounded hill, in the centre of a
rich valley, encircled by picturesque mountains. Temples
and palaces once adorned it, famed throughout the East for
the splendour of their architecture. But the destroyer has
passed over it. I saw that long line of broken shafts with
the vines growing luxuriantly round their bases—I saw a
group of columns in a corn-field on the hill-top-I saw hewn
and sculptured blocks of marble and limestone in the rude
walls of the terraced vineyards-I saw great heaps of stones
and rubbish among the olive groves in the bottom of the
valley far below-but I saw no other trace of the city
founded by Omri and adorned by Herod. One would think
the prophet Micah had seen that desolate site as I saw it,
his description is so graphic:-"I will make Samaria as an
heap of the field, and as plantings of a vineyard; and I
will pour down the stones thereof into the valley, and I
will discover the foundations thereof" (Micah i. 6).
Our road—a mere goat-track-led down the hill side
through fields of ripe grain, in which the reapers were at
work, though it was still early in May. We soon entered
Wady Shair, a prolongation of the fertile and beautiful val-
ley which separates Ebal and Gerizim, and at the head of
232
GALILEE AND THE SEA-COAST.
which stands Nâbulus, the modern representative of She-
chem. Down it wound our long cavalcade, through corn-
fields and olive groves, and past threshing-floors already
heaped up with the fruits of the early harvest. I observed
with interest how masters and servants were there grouped
together the sheikh in his scarlet mantle, and the stalwart
fellâh in his coat of many colours. Women and children
too were there, and cooking utensils, and beds, showing that
the harvest scenes of modern days among the villages of
Palestine are just the same as those we read of in the Book
of Ruth.
After a three hours' march we defiled from the valley
into the plain of Sharon. Up among the mountains where
the valley was narrow, and the declivities steep and rugged,
nearly every available spot was cultivated, and populous
villages appeared on each side. Here, on looking over the
broad fertile plain, not a human habitation was visible, and
only a few patches of the soil near the base of the moun-
tains were under culture. Vineyards and olive groves have
disappeared. Traces of the Roman road which once con-
nected the great cities of Cæsarea and Sebaste are there,
but it is overgrown with thistles and rank grass; and in a
ride of four hours we did not see a solitary traveller, so
true is it that "the highways lie waste, and the wayfaring
man ceaseth."
""
We turned north-west along the base of the mountains.
On our right, perched on hill top or standing on rocky
slope, were a few small half-ruinous villages; while, on our
left, out upon the plain, we saw at long intervals little cir-
clets of black tents. This is border land, between plain and
mountain, between tent and house, between industrious vil-
lagers and wandering vagabonds, whose hands, like those
of their forefathers, are "against every man.'
""
We found our tents pitched at Bâkah, a populous village
on the side of the plain. Its inhabitants are rich, well
armed, and powerful. They wage an unceasing warfare
DANGEROUS TRAVELLING.
233
with the Bedawîn who infest Sharon, and by their courage,
watchfulness, and rifles, they manage to keep them at a re-
spectful distance. We were no little amused to find that
the escort we had brought from the Governor of Nâbulus
would not advance an inch beyond Bâkah. So far the road
was perfectly safe, and so far the soldiers guarded us; but
the plain westward swarmed with Bedawîn, among whom
the soldiers would not venture, and consequently, pocket-
ing their bakhshish, they returned in peace to their com-
mander.
From Bâkah I found it impossible to obtain either guide
or escort to Cæsarea. There is a standing blood-feud be-
tween its people and the Hawâra Arabs, who roam over
the intervening plain. But I arranged with the village
sheikh to conduct our party to a neutral tribe, with whom
he assured us an arrangement could be effected. He did
not fail to advise us, however, to turn back into the moun-
tains, and proceed northward by a less dangerous route.
This did not suit my plans; but as some ladies had joined
my party, I thought it necessary to inform them and their
companions of the true state of matters, and to show them
how they might escape all danger by taking another route.
In reply, they asked me if I intended to go to Cæsarea.
"Most assuredly," I said. "Then we shall go too."
Our party mustered at sun-rise, and set out at once, led
by two sheikhs splendidly mounted, and armed with tufted
lances, carabines, and pistols. The caravan had a formidable
look. Every rifle was unslung. The muleteers and servants,
with their guns on their shoulders, kept close together in
the centre, while a few active villagers brought up the
rear. We numbered about forty animals, and as many men.
Recent disturbances among the Arab tribes made the road
unusually dangerous; and as our friends of Bâkah had, only
two days previously, killed three of a plundering party of
Sukrs, they were now apprehensive of an attack in greater
force. For the first half hour we traversed the cultivated
234
GALILEE AND THE SEA-COAST.
fields of Bâkah, and then entered a wild rugged district.
Low rocky spurs project from the mountains into the plain,
sprinkled with oak trees, and covered with dense jungles
of thorns and thistles-such thistles as are only seen in
Palestine, often as tall as a man on horseback. We had
gone but a short distance when one of our leaders raised a
cry of alarm. I galloped to the front, and saw a number of
Bedawîn lurking among the trees. Fortunately the path
was tolerably wide. We drew up the horsemen on each
side, placed the ladies and baggage animals in the centre,
and then marched in military order. It was an anxious
moment. We knew not at what point the enemy might
assail us, or in what force they might come. For about an
hour we advanced through the tangled thicket cautiously
and silently. Then, with feelings of relief, we defiled into
the open plain, and rode over it half a mile to a large foun-
tain.
The scene round this fountain was thoroughly oriental.
A tribe of semi-nomads were assembled on their threshing-
floors, all busily engaged in the various details of "treading
out the corn," winnowing, and carrying off the grain to
subterranean magazines. Every man had his gun within
reach. Some were driving the oxen with muskets slung
on their shoulders and pistols in their belts. Women were
there too-bold, stalwart women, whose look and mien re-
minded one of Deborah and Jael-armed with heavy clubs,
partly intended to help their husbands in case of attack,
and partly to toss up the grain and straw on the "floors."
A number of horsemen, acting as patrols, scoured the neigh-
bouring heights to give timely notice of an enemy. The
moment we emerged from the oak forests the patrols gal-
loped in, and the men and women prepared, with a skill
and quickness that would have done credit to regular
troops, for defending their position.
Our Bâkah escort could conduct us no farther. The
out-posts of the Hawâra and Sukr were not far distant.
?
235
ADVENTURE WITH BEDAWIN.
We were consequently delivered over to this neutral tribe.
After much difficulty and long negotiation, we succeeded
in persuading two footmen to guide us to Cæsarea. We
had to abandon all idea of an escort, for we were plainly
told that we must defend ourselves in case of attack, and
that the guides would not interfere in any quarrel. Be-
fore parting, the guides very deliberately proceeded to di-
vest themselves of every decent bit of clothing they pos-
sessed; even guns, and pistols, and daggers were laid aside.
Retaining each a tattered shirt, and a bit of rag for a tur-
ban, they took a couple of clubs from the women, and led
us on.
We set out due west, through corn-fields recently reaped.
In a quarter of an hour all cultivation ceased. The plain
extended away before us, not flat, but in graceful undula-
tions, covered with rank grass, and weeds, and tall this-
tles. Clumps of trees were studded here and there over it.
Away on the left, about two miles distant, was the long
dark line of an oak forest shutting in the view, while about
an equal distance on the right were the roots of Carmel
shooting down into the plain in picturesque wooded pro-
montories. The whole landscape reminded me of some of
the noble parks of Old England. The only living creatures
· in sight for miles were some flocks of gazelles.
There was no path, and no impediment, and so we rode
straight forward to the white sand hills faintly visible on
the horizon. We had got about half-way, when, on top-
ping a rising ground, we found before us a depression or
valley, all cultivated. Here a number of men were at
work;—some gathering in the newly-reaped grain, some on
the threshing-floors with yokes of oxen, some tending herds
of cattle, and a goodly number on horseback scouring the
surrounding country. Our sudden appearance created a
great commotion. The size of our party, the glittering of
our arms, and our warlike aspect, made them believe that
a Bedawy Ghuzu was upon them. The workmen fled, the
236
GALILEE AND THE SEA-COAST.
·
shepherds drove in the cattle, the horsemen galloped round,
urging them on with their spears; and in a very few min-
utes they were all concentrated on a little knoll, prepared
for defence. We passed half a mile to the south of the
gathering-place; but here we unwittingly cut off a small
party of some seven or eight men, engaged with their har-
vest in a retired glen. On seeing us they fled, leaving don-
keys, and oxen, and even clothes, as they believed, at the
mercy of the spoilers. Riding onwards at a sharp pace,
we entered a valley, where we halted for a few minutes to
examine an old building, apparently a fortified caravan-
serai. While scattered about the ruins, we were startled
by a wild shout, and, looking up, we saw a party of Ha-
wâra dashing down upon us at full gallop. A word was
given, and in a moment we drew together, formed a line in
front of the ladies, and prepared to give the Arabs a warm
reception should they venture on an attack. Our bold
front, and the sight of a formidable file of English rifles,
cooled their ardour. They reined up, and looked steadily
at us, as if trying to note a single sign of wavering or fear.
While standing there they formed as wild and picturesque
a group as ever peaceful pilgrims encountered, or wandering
artist sketched. Their lances poised high overhead, the
bright steel points glittering in the midst of black tufts of
feathers-their arms and legs bare-their hair streaming in
long plaited locks over breast and shoulders-their faces.
bronzed, and their eyes flashing with excitement-and
their noble horses, with curved neck and expanded nostril,
more eager for the fray even than their riders. We could
not but admire those wild children of the desert, worthy
representatives of their progenitor Ishmael.
While the balance hung between peace and war, the
ladies, with a coolness and a "pluck" that would have
done honour to veteran campaigners, were quietly passing
remarks on the proud bearing and strange costume of the
Bedawîn; and one of them-a daughter of the most dis-
RUINS OF CESAREA.
237
tinguished prelate that ever adorned the Irish Church-took
out her book and pencil to sketch the scene. I shall never
forget the astonished look of the Hawâra chief, as he ex-
claimed, on seeing this act, "By the life of the Prophet!
the Englishwoman is writing us down!"
The courage of the ladies produced apparently as power-
ful an effect as the sight of our rifles and revolvers. But
be this as it may, the Hawâra thought discretion the bet-
ter part of valour. Shouting a friendly Salamu aleikum—
"Peace be with you!"-they wheeled round their horses
and galloped off. We watched their movements, fearing
that they might return in greater force. But we saw them
strike off northward, until, coming upon a couple of poor
fishermen on the banks of the Crocodile River, they seized
them, and left them, in point of costume, precisely as the
thieves left the man who "went down from Jerusalem to
Jericho."
Such is modern life on the plain of Sharon. "No flesh
has peace" there. Those who venture to till the soil must
guard the fruit of their labours with the sword, and even
risk life to save property. "Sharon is a wilderness," and
through that wilderness the "spoilers now come upon all
high places" (Jer. xii. 12).
CESAREA.
We were just two hours and a half in crossing the plain,
and it was not yet noon when we entered the southern or
Joppa gate of Cæsarea. Cæsarea was the capital of Pales-
tine in the days of the apostles; it was the favourite resi-
dence of that Herod who "killed James the brother of
John with the sword;" and it was the scene of the tyrant's
awful death, recorded in Acts xii. 21-23. The city was
closely connected with the early history of the Apostolic
Church. Philip, after baptizing the Ethiopian eunuch,
passed through Philistia and Sharon, "preaching in all the
cities, till he came to Cæsarea" (Acts viii. 26-40). Pe
238
GALILEE AND THE SEA-COAST.
1
ter here first preached the gospel to Gentiles, and here he
baptized Cornelius, the first Gentile convert (x. 47). It
was to Cæsarea Paul was brought a prisoner from Jeru-
salem. It was in the palace in this city he so spake of
"righteousness, temperance, and judgment to come," that
he made Felix tremble. It was here the power of his logic
forced King Agrippa to exclaim, "Almost thou persuadest
me to be a Christian." And it was from this harbour he
embarked on his long and eventful voyage to Rome (Acts
xxiii. 33; xxiv. 25; xxvi. 28; xxvii. 1, 2). Here Eusebius,
the father of ecclesiastical history, spent nearly his whole
life, having been bishop of the diocese for a quarter of a
century (A.D. 315-340). Here, too, Procopius was born in
the beginning of the sixth century. The city was thus the
home of two of the greatest historians of antiquity.
In passing through the gate of Cæsarea, I felt that I
was indeed entering a "holy and historic place;" and I
envy not the Christian or the scholar who could tread that
site and look on those ruins without experiencing such a
sense of mingled awe and reverence, and inspiring sympa-
thy, as is ever awakened in the mind by the immediate
presence of the great and the good. In only a very few
other cities of Palestine was I so deeply impressed, so
strangely and powerfully excited, by the religio loci. The
profound silence, the utter desolation, the total absence of
every sign of human life, left me alone, as it were, with the
sacred associations and stirring memories of the past. The
gate by which Peter entered was there; the ruins of the
palace in which Paul preached were there; the remains of
the harbor in which he embarked were there; the massive
fragments of Eusebius' church were there; the walls which
the brave Crusaders built were there. Every great event
in the sacred and civil history of the city was localized, and
fancy grouped again the old actors of the old scenes.
The ruins of Cæsarea lie close along the winding shore,
projecting here and there into the sea, and presenting huge
DESOLATION.
239
masses of shattered masonry and piles of granite columns
to the restless waves. In the interior all is ruin.
Not a
building remains entire. Not even the foundations of a
building can be fully traced. Heaps of stones and rubbish,
here a solitary column, there a disjointed arch, yonder a
fragment of a wall-all encompassed or overgrown with
thorns, and briars, and thistles, intermixed in spring with
myriads of yellow marigolds and scarlet poppies. The
famous harbour is choked up with sand and rubbish; and
the great mole now forms that picturesque group of broken,
sea-beaten masonry, which projects far into the sea, and
constitutes the most striking feature in the well-known
sketches of Bartlett, Tipping, and others. I wandered for
hours among the ruins of Cæsarea. The sighing of the
wind among the broken walls, the deep moan of the sea as
cach wave broke upon the cavernous ruins of the ancient
harbour, were the only sounds I heard. I saw no man.
The Arab and the shepherd avoid the spot. The very
birds and beasts seem to shun it. The only living creature
I saw during my stay was a jackal in one of the crypts of
the cathedral.
Eight miles north of Cæsarea is Tantura, a small vil-
lage, built on an open sandy beach. Near it are the ruins
of the ancient city of Dor, whose ruler was an ally of
Jabin, King of Hazor, and one of the opponents of Joshua
(Josh. xi. 1, 2). We encamped for the night on the site,
and next morning rode northward along the shore to Car-
mel. The only place we passed worthy of note was the
massive and picturesque fortress of Athlit, built on a rock
which juts out into the sea. The Crusaders called it
Castellum Peregrinorum, "Pilgrim's Castle," because it
was a favourite landing-place for pilgrims on their way to
the Holy City. Near it I observed an old road hewn
through a cliff; and in its rocky floor the chariots have worn
deep ruts, which reminded me of those in the streets of
Pompeii.
11
240
GALILEE AND THE SEA-COAST.
CARMEL.
The good monks of the Convent of Carmel gave us a
cordial welcome; and their neat rooms and clean beds
formed real luxuries, which those only can fully appreciate
who have spent weeks in camp-life. One of the sweetest
retreats, one of the most charming resting-places for the
pilgrim in Palestine, is the Convent of Mount Carmel. Here
is a house that would not disgrace royalty; here are men
whose intelligence and genial bonhomie even a cowl can-
not cover; here is air cool and bracing during the hot-
test summer day; and here is a noble site, looking away
out over the deep blue sea, commanding the classic shores
of Phoenicia, and showing the snow-crowned peaks of Le-
banon and Hermon over the "excellency of Carmel."
Carmel has many attractions for the naturalist, the an-
tiquarian, and the classical scholar, as well as for the stu-
dent of the Bible. Its ridge, descending on one side into
the rich plain of Acre, and on the other, to the green vale
of Dor or Sharon, contains some of the most pleasing, park-
like scenery in Palestine. The wood that clothes it is
chiefly prickly oak, a beautiful evergreen; so that while the
"excellency of Carmel" (Isa. xxxv. 2) might well be re-
garded as a type of natural beauty, the "withering" of
its foliage (Amos i. 2; Isa. xxxiii. 9) ought to be consid-
ered as an emblem of national desolation. The forest
glades of Carmel are spangled with flowers of every hue.
The thickets abound in game, and are also infested with
wolves, hyenas, and leopards.
The sides of the mountain near the convent are filled with
caves and grottoes, which formed the abodes of hermits in
ancient days. The largest of these is called the "Cave of
the Prophets," because Elijah is said to have received the
chiefs of the people there. It is a plain, rock-hewn cham-
ber, with Greek names and inscriptions on the walls. In
the fields below it great numbers of stones may be seen,
SCENE OF ELIJAH'S SACRIFICE.
211
which resemble melons and olives. The former are flints,
with beautiful sparry matter inside; and the latter are good
specimens of the fossil echinus.
SCENE OF ELIJAH'S SACRIFICE.
Carmel is chiefly celebrated as the scene of Elijah's sacri-
fice. The exact spot is marked by local tradition, by the
agreement of its physical features with the Scripture nar-
rative, and by its name, el-Muhrakah, "The Sacrifice." It
is about six hours ride from the convent, over the crest of
the ridge. I visited it from the Plain of Esdraelon, on the
opposite or eastern side. It is on the brow of the moun-
tain, and commands the whole plain to Jezreel and Tabor.
Close to the base of the range, below the spot, flows the
river Kishon, where the prophets of Baal were slain; and
just above the spot is a projecting peak, from which Elijah's
servant saw the "little cloud, like a man's hand, rising out
of the sea," (1 Kings xviii.)
Another episode of Bible history I read with new inter-
est in this place. Elisha was here when the Shunamite's
son died. Looking down one afternoon from his command-
ing position, he saw her "afar off" on the plain. He
sent his servant to meet her; but she pressed up the moun-
tain side "to the man of God." Dismounting hastily, she
threw herself on the ground before him, "and caught him.
by the feet "just as an Arab woman would still do under
similar circumstances. Elisha, on hearing her tale of sor-
row, sent away Gehazi with his staff to raise the dead
child; but she, with all a mother's earnestness, exclaimed,
"As the Lord liveth, and as thy soul liveth, I will not
leave thee. And he rose and followed her," (2 Kings iv.)
Carmel was the favourite retreat of both Elijah and Eli-
sha. In the stirring times in which they lived, it was a
fitting place for the prosecution of the great work of re-
form for which they laboured and prayed. It was central
in position, and easy of access from all parts of Palestine.
242
GALILEE AND THE SEA-COAST.
It afforded in its deep dells and dense thickets sufficient
privacy for such as wished to pay secret visits to the men
of God; and it offered a secure asylum to all compelled to
flee from the persecutions of the idolatrous Ahab, and the
Cruelties of the infamous Jezebel. The situation of el-Muh-
rakah also struck me as peculiarly suitable for the head-
quarters of the prophets. It could only be reached by a
long and steep ascent. No man could approach it unseen;
and any hostile party would be visible at a great distance.
Beside it is a well with an unfailing spring, and upon it are
the remains of a massive ancient building.
Sitting on that commanding height, on a bright spring
evening, I felt persuaded I was upon the scene of Elijah's
great sacrifice. Beside and under me were probably the
very stones of which God's altar was built, and over which
played the heavenly flame. A few paces beneath me was
the well from which the water was drawn, that the pro-
phet's servants poured upon the altar. Around me were
the thickets from which the wood was cut. Away at the
foot of the mountain flowed the Kishon in its deep bed,
which on that day ran red with the blood of Jehovah's
enemies. There, stretching out before me, was the plain
across which Ahab dashed in his chariot; and yonder, on
its eastern border, I saw the little villages which mark the
sites and still bear the names of Jezreel and Shunem. Is
it strange that when one thus visits the "holy and historic
places of Palestine," the grand events of Bible history
should appear to be enacted over again, and should be-
come to him living realities?
"Land of fair Palestine, where Jesus trod,
Thy ruins and thy relics tell of God:
Thine everlasting hills with awe proclaim
The holy records of Jehovah's name :
Thy fallen cities crumbled into dust,
Pronounce the judgment of Jehovah just."
h
II.
Mount Tabor and the Valley of Jezreel.
"Surely as Tabor is among the mountains, and as Carmel by the sea, so shall he come."
-JER. xlvi. 18.
ABOR is the traditional "Mount of Transfigura-
tion." Were it the real scene of that wondrous
event, it would yield in interest to none of Pal-
estine's "Holy Places." But the tradition is
questionable, and sacred topography is opposed to it. Yet
it can lay claim to a venerable antiquity, for Jerome, in the
fourth century, when making his pilgrimage with the saint-
ly Paula, says, "She ascended Tabor, on which the Lord.
was transfigured." Jerome's words and monkish super-
stition have canonized the mountain. Churches have been
built upon it, pilgrimages have been made to it, and for
fifteen centuries it has been honoured as one of the shrines
of the Holy Land.
But independent of apocryphal tradition and monkish
superstition, Tabor holds rank among Palestine's celebrat-
ed mountains. Gilead and Pisgah, Olivet and Carmel,
Tabor and Hermon, are all honoured names in sacred story.
In olden days of Canaanitish Baal-worship Tabor was a
"high place;" and the northern tribes appear, in this case
as in many others, to have forgotten the divine command,
"Ye shall utterly destroy all the places wherein the na-
tions which ye shall possess served their gods, upon the
high mountains, and upon the hills" (Deut. xii. 2; com-
pare 2 Kings xvii. 9-12). They appear to have erected
DE
J
244
GALILEE AND THE SEA COAST. .
altars and images upon Tabor; and hence the force and
pointedness of Hosea's accusation, "Hear ye this, O
priests; and hearken, ye house of Israel; and give ye car,
O house of the king; for judgment is toward you, because
ye have been a snare on Mizpeh, and a net spread upon
Tabor" (v. 1). The people were there deceived and en-
snared by the idolatrous practices of their leaders.
And Tabor was the gathering-place of the northern tribes
in time of danger or war. For this, as I shall show, both
its position and its natural features admirably fitted it.
Here Deborah ordered Barak to concentrate his army to
oppose Sisera: "Go and draw toward mount Tabor, and
take with thee ten thousand men of the children of Naph-
tali and of the children of Zebulun" (Judges iv. 6).
Here, too, some of Israel's warriors had been attacked and
slain by the host of Midian, before Gideon's victory. Gid-
eon asked Zebah and Zalmunna, "What manner of men
were they whom ye slew at Tabor? And they answered,
As thou art, so were they: each one resembled a king"
(Judges viii. 18). Even before the conquest, it would seem
that the great Lawgiver's prophetic eye had been fixed
upon Tabor, when he said of Zebulun and Issachar, "They
shall call the people unto the mountain; there they shall
offer sacrifices of righteousness" (Deut. xxxiii. 19).
ASCENT OF TABOR.
It was on the 8th of May, at noon, in a flood of glorious
sunshine, I first approached the northern base of Tabor.
At intervals, during the two preceding days, I had seen it
from the heights of Naphtali and the banks of the upper
Jordan. Now that it was before me, I was disappointed.
There is nothing of majesty in its elevation, nor of gran-
deur in its scenery, that would at all make it rival Hermon
or Lebanon. Its shape and partial isolation are striking,
but nothing more. The point from which I got the most
pleasing view was beside the ruins of Khan et-Tujjâr, two
4
SCENERY OF TABOR.
215
miles to the north. The intervening ground was table-land,
with a gently undulating surface, and belts of plantation,
and clumps of trees, and vistas of green turf bordered with
shrubbery, like an English park. Over it, to the height of
twelve hundred feet or more, rose Tabor; in shape a seg-
ment of a sphere; its sides and regularly curved top all
sprinkled with evergreen oaks and terebinths. It is un-
doubtedly the most conspicuous hill in Central Palestine-
not from its altitude, for there are others much higher, but
from its isolated position, unique shape, and unfading ver-
dure. When first seen from the north, as I saw it, its
curved outline breaks the dull monotony of the hills of
Galilee. When first seen from the south, it is still more
imposing. Then it swells up like a vast dome from the
plain of Esdraelon; and in the richness of its foliage, and
delicate green of its forest glades, it presents a pleasing con-
trast to the brown rocky summits of Ephraim, and the bare
white crowns of Judah.
My path led through a widespread camp of Nomads,
"children of the east," who had come here in early spring,
like the Midianites of old, to devour the luxuriant pastures
of Palestine. They were a.wild and a lawless race, and I
felt that to pass them in safety would require some little
tact. I rode boldly to the nearest tent, and asked for
water. A large bowl of milk was handed to me by an
Arab girl; bread, too, was offered, of which I ate a small
quantity. I was now their guest, under their protection,
freed from all danger of attack on person or property. I
demanded a guide or rather an escort, for the way was
plain enough, to the foot of Tabor. The girl conducted me
to the tent of the sheikh, which was pitched under the
shade of a noble oak. He was not at home; but his son, a
fine-looking boy of fifteen, leaped on the back of a beautiful
mare that stood ready saddled, and, seizing the spear which
was stuck in the ground at the tent door, told me to follow
him.
246
GALILEE AND THE SEA-COAST.
My little guide led me to the western base of Tabor,
within sight of the village of Deburieh, which nestles in a
quiet nook on the side of the great plain. There he wheeled
round, waved a polite adieu, and was out of sight in a mo-
ment. I turned my horse's head up the zig-zag path that
leads to the top of the hill; but soon, wearying of the wind-
ings, I left my horse in charge of my servant, and clambered
up straight to the summit. It was a rash act.
On my way
I saw several jackals, and heard sundry barks and growls
in the jungles as they scampered off, which made me feel
somewhat uncomfortable. The summit is broad, strewn
with ruins, and covered with thickets of dwarf oak and
prickly shrubs. I entered a narrow opening, and was pro-
ceeding along a beaten track, when I was startled by a loud
snort; and a huge boar, with head down and mane erect,
brushed past me, and was followed by a sow and a litter
of young. I scarce knew what to do. The place was quite
different from what I had expected. As yet I could see
nothing but thickets of ilex and heaps of ruins. I was
thirsty, and thirst compelled me to run the risk of more
encounters with the denizens of the jungle. After some
time and trouble, I discovered water at the bottom of a
large dark vault or cistern. A rude staircase once led down
the side, but it was now in a great measure destroyed. I
was resolved, however, to reach in some way the tempting.
fluid. Holding by an overhanging branch, I began the
descent, when suddenly a panther bounded out from an ob-
scure corner, and turning round, growled at me from the
opposite side. I could do nothing except look steadily at
the beautiful but dangerous creature. Gradually it shrunk
back, and at length disappeared in a thicket. I was a
good deal relieved when I heard the voice of my servant,
and still more so when he came up and handed me my gun.
In all that painful, fearful desolation on the top of Tabor,
the finger of God was visible. Prophecy was fulfilled be-
fore my eyes. Every object I saw was an emblem and a
RUINS ON TABOR.
247
result of the curse-ruins, thorns and thistles, wild beasts,
a deserted stronghold. What a commentary upon the
words of the ancient prophets! "I will destroy your high
places.. I will make your cities waste, and bring your
sanctuaries into desolation.. Upon the land of my peo-
ple shall come up thorns and briars, yea, upon all the
houses of joy in the joyous city; because the palaces shall
be forsaken; the multitude of the city shall be left; the
forts and towers shall be for dens" (Lev. xxvi. 30, 31; Isa.
xxxii. 13, 14).
THE RUINS.
The ruins on the summit of Tabor are extensive. The
destroyer, however, has dealt so heavily with them, and
they are so overgrown with thorns, and briars, and thistles,
that any minute examination by a passing traveller is im-
possible. I spent the whole afternoon exploring, and since
that time I spent an entire day among them, yet I was not
satisfied.
The top of the mount is a level, oval-shaped area, about a
mile in circuit. Round it are the remains of a massive wall,
outside which is a moat hewn in the rock. The foundations
of the wall are colossal, and of the earliest type of Jewish
masonry. Some of the towers are much more recent; and
one gateway, still standing, has a pointed Saracenic arch,
and an Arabic inscription stating that the fortress was
built, or more probably rebuilt, by Abubekr, brother of the
renowned Saladin, in the year A.D. 1210. Near the south-
eastern angle I saw a little vault in which the Latin monks
from Nazareth celebrate an annual mass, in honour of the
Transfiguration. On the opposite side the Greeks have
their altar and sanctuary, and are in the habit, I was in-
formed, of making a yearly pilgrimage to the spot and
spending a day on the summit. But during my visits to
Tabor, the mountain was deserted. Not a human being
was there; and not a vestige of anything like a permanent
248
GALILEE AND THE SEA-COAST.
abode of man. I saw dead ashes and charred sticks, left
there apparently by some passing traveller like myself. I
was not even so fortunate as to meet the hermit of whom
Dean Stanley tells such a romantic story; but if the panther
I saw was that which is said to have been the constant
companion of the old man, I fear his attempts to tame it
had not been very successful.
The top of Tabor was evidently the site of a city as well
as of a sanctuary from a very early period. In fact its.
strong and commanding position could not fail to attract.
the notice of the warlike Canaanites. The city was allot-
ted to Issachar (Josh. xix. 22); and it continued a place of
note, not only throughout the whole period of Jewish his-
tory, but down to the close of the Crusades.
The view from Tabor possesses a far higher interest for
the Bible student and the Christian pilgrim than its hoary
and desolate ruins. It is one of those wondrous panoramas
which time can never obliterate from the memory; and
whose striking features and vivid colouring, change can
never dim. The notes I wrote on the mount are before me,
but they are scarcely needed. I see the landscape now as
I saw it then. On the north, Naphtali's brown peaks
running in a serried ridge athwart the glowing sky. Fur-
ther to the right a little corner of the Sea of Galilee, slum-
bering in its deep, deep bed, and the glittering top of Her-
mon towering over it like a guardian angel. On the east
the long purple ridge of Gilead, rising like a colossal wall
from the Jordan valley. On the south the plain of Esdrac-
lon, Palestine's battle-field, sweeping round the base of the
mount, and extending, a sea of verdure, away to the hills
of Samaria, and the dark ridge of Carmel. In the distance,
ranged along its opposite side, I saw dimly the isolated
tells on which once stood the cities of Taanach, Megiddo,
and Jokneam of Carmel. Directly facing me, four miles
distant, beyond an eastern arm of the plain, rose "the hill
Moreh," a grey, treeless ridge, with the villages of Endor
BARAK AND DEBORAH.
249
and Nain upon its side. Over its left shoulder appeared
the bare white top of Gilboa. Westward my eye wandered
along the wooded heights of Galilee to the Great Sea, a
section of which was visible beside the bold promontory of
Carmel.
Standing on this spot I was able to understand why Ta-
bor was the gathering-place of the northern tribes. Con-
nected by a wooded ridge with the hills of Galilee and
mountains of Naphtali, it was always accessible to them;
while at the same time it stood out commanding the plain
of Esdraelon. Its steep sides were easily defended, and its
broad top gave ample space for the organization of a little
army of mountaineers. The plain below it was the centre
of attraction for all invaders. Its pastures tempted the no-
mads of Arabia; its firm flat surface attracted the chariots
and horsemen of Philistia, Canaan, and Syria. From the
top of Tabor the light infantry of Israel could watch all
their movements, and take advantage of any fitting oppor-
tunity for attack. The graphic story of Barak and Deborah
was here brought vividly before my mind;-Barak eagerly
watching the advance of Siscra across the plain; while
Deborah, with the enthusiasm of a patriot, and the inspi-
ration of a propheless, looked and prayed to heaven for
the signal to attack. At length her eye saw it, and she
cried: "Up, for this is the day in which the Lord hath de-
livered Sisera into thine hand: is not the Lord gone out be-
fore thee?" (Judges iv. 14).
The sun went down, and deep purple shadows fell upon
plain and valley. The wild plaintive wail of jackals, min-
gled with the sharper howl of wolves, warned me to seek
safer quarters. I mounted and rode slowly down to De-
bûrich. Here stood the Canaanitish Daborath, but it has
long since disappeared, and the only remains of antiquity
now are the walls of a medieval church.
250
GALILEE AND THE SEA-COAST.
THE VALLEY OF JEZREEL.
"I will break the bow of Israel in the valley of Jezreel"
(Hos. i. 5).—The old city of Jezreel gave its name to one
of the noblest plains of Palestine, and that name was after-
wards softened by the Greeks into the more familiar Es-
draclon. Its position affords a key to its bloody history.
It intersects Central Palestine, extending from the bay of
Acre to the fords of the Jordan. It was thus open to all
invaders to the Philistines from the coast, the Israelites
from the east, and the Syrians from the north; while at a
later period it was the highway along which passed and
repassed the armies of Assyria and Egypt. Its wide-spread
meadows and corn-fields, its luxuriant pastures and abund-
ant waters courted rest, and gave ample space for military
manœuvres. The northern tribes watched the invaders
from the top of Tabor, and the southern tribes had their
gathering-place on the heights of Gilboa, or at the passes
of Megiddo, according as the enemy came from the east or
west.
Issachar, to whom this plain was allotted, suffered more
than all the other tribes. His was a hard lot. In the con-
dition and history of the plain-open to every incursion, ex-
posed to every shock of war-we see the fortunes of the
tribe, and we have a melancholy commentary on the bless-
ing of Jacob: "Issachar is a strong ass, couching down be-
tween two burdens; and he saw that rest was good, and
the land that it was pleasant; and bowed his shoulder to
bear, and became a servant unto tribute" (Gen. xlix. 14,
15). As the peasants do still who cultivate patches of Es-
draelon, Issachar paid black-mail to the "children of the
East." When the tribe saw the prowess of David, and his
ability to protect Israel, their valuable possessions and ex-
posed position made them anxious for his succession to the
throne. And this explains the words of the sacred writer,-
"Of the children of Issachar, which were men that had
ENDOR AND NAIN.
251
understanding of the times, to know what Israel ought to
do” (1 Chron. xii. 32).
The main part of Esdraelon is triangular in form. Its
base on the east reaches from Engannim to Tabor, fifteen
miles; and its apex is at the foot of Carmel, where the Ki-
shon flows into the plain of Acre. From the base, however,
three arms stretch out eastward, divided by two short par-
allel ridges. The northern arm lies between Tabor and the
ridge of Moreh, and the central between the latter and
Gilboa. These two extend down to the Jordan. The third
arm is on the south side of Gilboa, and is shut in on the
east by the mountains of Ephraim.
ENDOR.
In the ruddy morning twilight I rode across the beauti-
ful plain to Endor. It is a poor village of some twenty
houses, perched on the bleak side of Morel, about two hun-
dred yards above the plain. The rocks round it are pierced
with caves—some natural, some artificial, as if the old in-
habitants had been troglodytes. Above the village is one
larger than the rest, the entrance to which is between high
rocks, and is partly covered by the branches of a fig-tree.
Within it is a fountain called 'Ain Dor, "the fountain of
Dor," which doubtless gave its name to the ancient as well
as the modern village. Entering this gloomy grotto, and
looking round on its dark riven sides, I felt how suitable
such a spot would be for the interview between Saul and
the witch.
NAIN.
A pleasant ride of forty minutes along the hill-side
brought me to Nain. It was by the very same path our
Lord approached it, for he was on his way from Capernaum.
It was with no little interest, therefore, I observed on my
left, three or four hundred yards from the village, a group
of rock tombs. Towards one of these probably the funeral
252
GALILEE AND THE SEA-COAST.
procession was moving when He met and stopped it. How
vividly did the whole scene appear to me now as I stood
on the spot! The procession issuing from the gate; the
men carrying the open bier; the women behind grouped
round the poor widow, and rending the air with their cries,
as they do still. Another procession meets them. He who
heads it looks with melting tenderness on the widow, and
says, in accents that thrill her soul, "Weep not:" He
touches the bier. In mingled awe and astonishment the
bearers stop. "Young man, I say unto thee, Arise!"
As the words are uttered the dead rises to life; and in a
moment he is in the arms of his mother.
Nain is a small village; but the ruins round it show that
it was much larger in olden times; and it commands one of
the finest views in Central Palestine. Beneath it the plain,
beyond which rise the wooded hills of Galilee; and on the
north the great flat dome of Tabor, with Hermon shooting.
up behind it on the distant horizon. From this place I
first saw these two mountains in close perspective proximi-
ty, and I thought that perhaps it might have been some
such view which suggested the Psalmist's words: "The
north and the south thou hast created them; Tabor and
Hermon shall rejoice in thy name" (lxxxix. 12).
SHUNEM.
t
The path from Nain to Shunem passes round the western
slopes of Morch. As I turned my back on Tabor the
brown hills of Samaria came in sight, looking like a lower
continuation of Carmel; then Gilboa came into view, rising
up white and bare from the centre of the beautiful green
plain, and having the grey ruins of Jezreel at its western
base. Sweeping round still to the left, I looked away down
the middle arm of Esdraclon to the lofty tell on which
the old city of Beth-shan stood, and beyond it to the pic-
turesque range of Gilead. This is "the valley of Jezreel”
GIDEON'S VICTORY.
253
properly so called, and the scene of some of the most mo-
mentous events in Jewish history.
Shunem was now below me, situated in a little nook at
the foot of the ridge, encircled by enclosed gardens and
luxuriant fields of corn. I rode into it and dismounted at
the fountain. The people were rude and almost hostile;
but there was an air of sturdy independence about them,
and of thrift and success about their houses and fields, that
pleased me. A party of men and women were busy reap-
ing in an adjoining barley field; and a number of little
children were basking in the bright sunshine among the
sheaves and stubble, all with bare heads, and a few of them
stark naked. I sat down and read the story of the Shu-
nemite, every detail of which assumed a life-like vividness.
In the house of a great man—probably the sheikh-of that
village Elisha was wont to lodge. One day his son-the
child of promise-" went out to his father to the reapers,”
just as the children I saw now had gone out.
But the
heat was too much for him. The fatal sun stroke prostrated
him. "My head, my head," he cried; and when carried
home to his mother, "he sat on her knees till noon, and
died" (2 Kings iv. 8-20). The, mother's journey across
that plain to Carmel, and Elisha's miracle, are well known.
GIDEON'S VICTORY.
The scene of one of the most glorious victories, and of
one of the most disastrous defeats in the annals of Israel,
was before me at Shunem. It was with no ordinary inter-
est I proceeded to survey the battle-field, so as fully to
understand the sacred narrative. When the "Midianites,
and the children of the east," with their herds, numerous
and destructive as locusts, invaded the land three thousand
years ago, they pitched their tents on the north side of the
valley of Jezreel, "by the hill of Moreh;" while Gideon and
his little band of warriors "pitched beside the well of Ha-
rod," on the south side, at the foot of Gilboa (Judges vi.
254
GALILEE AND THE SEA-COAST.
3, 30; vii. 1). The hill Morch was there, rising up close
behind Shunem. The camp of the Midianites lay along its
base, probably extending from the fountain of Shunem down
to Beth-shan. Mounting my horse I rode across the rich
valley to Gideon's camp at the well of Harod. The dis-
tance is a little over three miles, and there is a slight de-
scent the whole way. The well, or rather "fountain," for
the Hebrew word is Ain, springs from a wide excavation
in the rocky root of Gilboa, and sends out a copious stream
which forms a miniature lake, and then murmurs away
down the vale. Gilboa rises over it in broken cliffs. Gid-
eon's active followers had assembled upon the mountain;
and he, at God's command, "brought them down to the
water" to test them (vii. 4); this done they again ascended
(ver. 8). During the night Gideon "went down" with
his servant to spy out the camp of the enemy (verses 9,
10). He heard the Midianite tell his dream; he knew thus
that the Lord's time of deliverance was come; and by his
singular but effective stratagem, and unexpected assault, he
struck terror into the host of the enemy, and they fled in
wild disorder down the valley to the fords of the Jordan.
For the first time I there saw how not only every detail of
the battle was accurate, but how every incidental expres-
sion of the sacred historian was illustrated by the topogra-
phy of the battle-field.
THE DEATII OF SAUL AND JONATHAN.
Two centuries later the Philistines marched into the cen-
tre of Israel, and took up their position at Shunem, on the
spot where the Midianites had encamped. Saul then gath-
cred the tribes on the heights of Gilboa (1 Sam. xxviii. 4).
Looking down from his commanding position on the war-
like array, and the formidable war-chariots of the enemy,
drawn up in the valley, Saul "was afraid, and his heart
greatly trembled." Conscience made a coward of him, for
he felt that he had forgotten God, and that God had there-
}
BATTLE OF GILBOA.
255
fore forsaken him. The closing scene of Saul's life is sad
and solemn. One's heart bleeds for the great man; and
looking at him morally as well as physically, one is con-
strained to exclaim, "How are the mighty fallen!"
Forsaken by Heaven, he so far forgot himself as to seek
counsel from the spirits of darkness. During the night he
crossed the valley, passing along the east side of the Phil-
istine army, and went over the shoulder of Morch to Endor,
where he visited the witch. The distance is about seven
miles, so that he must have travelled at least fourteen that
night. Though wearied with the journey, and broken in
spirit, he drew up his troops in the morning at the fountain
of Harod. The position was badly chosen. The ground
slopes down from Shunem, and the Philistines had thus all
the advantage for attack; while both front and flanks of the
Israelites were exposed, and flight all but impossible, owing
to the steepness of the mountain behind. The Israelites
were broken by the first impetuous charge of the enemy,
and the slaughter was dreadful as they attempted to flee
up Gilboa: "They fell down slain in Mount Gilboa. And
the Philistines followed hard upon Saul and upon his
... And the battle went sore against Saul, and the
archers hit him; and he was sore wounded of the archers "
(1 Sam. xxxi. 1-3). David in his beautiful ode has brought
out the peculiarity of the position: "The beauty of Israel
is slain upon the high places. . . . . . How are the mighty
fallen in the midst of the battle! O Jonathan, thou wast
slain in thine high places!" (2 Sam. i. 19, 25.)
sons.....
The stripping and mutilating of the slain, mentioned in
the narrative, may seem to some inhuman, and almost in-
credible. Strange to say, it is characteristic of Arab war-
fare to this day. I myself saw a fearful example of it a
few years ago, not many miles from this spot. During a
journey through Palestine I witnessed a battle, or rather
massacre of Kurds by Hawâra Arabs. I visited the battle-
field the day after; and there I found the ground strewn
256
GALILEE AND THE SEA-COAST.
with corpses, all stripped, and some frightfully mutilated.
Akeil Aga, and the ruffian horde that now follow him, are
worthy representatives of the old Philistines. After that
spectacle of human barbarity I read with more intense
feelings of horror the closing scene of the battle of Gilboa :
"And it came to pass on the morrow, when the Philistines
came to strip the slain, that they found Saul and his three
sons fallen in Mount Gilboa. And they cut off his head,
and stripped off his armour And they put his armour
in the house of Ashtaroth; and they fastened his body to
the wall of Beth-shan" (1 Sam. xxxi. 8-10).
From the fountain of Harod I rode up an old path, hewn
deeply in the rocky side of Gilboa. Looking upon that
mountain-bleak, and white, and barren, without tree, or
shrub, or blade of grass-I could scarcely help thinking.
that the wildly plaintive words of David's lamentation were
prophetic: "Ye mountains of Gilboa, let there be no dew,
neither let there be rain upon you, nor fields of offerings;
for there the shield of the mighty is vilely cast away, the
shield of Saul, as though he had not been anointed with
oil" (2 Sam. i. 21).
•
JEZREEL.
On approaching the little village which occupies the site
of the ancient city of Jezreel, I rode through a modern
cemetery, which lies open and neglected on the hill-side.
There I saw a troop of dogs burrowing into a new-made
grave, while two huge vultures were perched on a cliff not
a hundred yards distant. The place seemed deserted;
there was none "to fray them away." Did it not look like
an illustration of the prophetic curse and the historic nar-
rative given in the Bible?" In the portion of Jezreel shall
dogs eat the flesh of Jezebel" (2 Kings ix. 36; compare 1
Kings xxi. 23). That was not the only place in Palestine
where I saw dogs and vultures holding a horrid carnival
ainong the tombs.
JEIU'S REVENGE.
257
There is not a vestige of royalty in Jezreel now. A
dozen miserable houses clustered round a shattered tower
are all that mark the site and bear the name of the capital
of Ahab. With the exception of a large sarcophagus and
some caves hewn in the soft limestone of the hill, there are
no traces of antiquity. The city is utterly ruined. Its very
ruins have disappeared. Its vineyards, too, are all gone,
and the slopes immediately round the village are bare and
barren as a desert. The blood shed, and the crimes com-
mitted there, would seem to have brought a double curse
upon Jezreel. Looking on that scene of desolation, in the
centre of one of the finest plains in the world, I thought of
the murder of poor Naboth, and of Joram, and of the in-
famous Jezebel, and of the whole royal family, (1 Kings
xxi. ; 2 Kings ix., x.)
But the site is a noble one, worthy of a royal city. It is
a little knoll at the western extremity of the Gilboa range.
The green plain to which it gave a name sweeps nearly all
round its base. Standing on the top of the knoll, I saw the
whole panorama of Esdraelon, from the Jordan valley be-
low Beth-shan away to the dark ridge of Carmel, and from
the mountains of Samaria on the south to the wooded
heights of Galilee on the north. I there read with new in-
terest the graphic narrative of the ninth chapter of 2 Kings.
It was from those eastern mountains, from Ramoth of
Gilead, Jehu came. Up that vale the watchman on Jez-
reel's tower saw the horsemen and chariots dashing, and he
called out, “The driving is like the driving of Jehu the son
of Nimshi; for he driveth furiously." Joram went out to
meet him in his chariot, and Ahaziah accompanied him in
his chariot. They drove down the steep descent to the
valley. There they met Jehu, and there Joram was slain,
and his body thrown into the vineyard of Naboth. Aha-
ziah turned and fled southward along "the road to En-
gannim" (incorrectly translated in our version "by the
way of the garden house," ver. 27). But he too was fatally
UorM
258
GALILEE AND THE SEA-COAST.
wounded, and they took him across the plain to Megiddo,
and there he died.
BATTLE-FIELD OF MEGIDDO.
It was noon when I left Jezreel. The sun was blazing
in the centre of a cloudless sky. The plain, usually so si-
lent and desolate, was all astir with the flocks and herds of
Bedawîn, who had crossed the Jordan two days previously,
like locusts for multitude, and like locusts for destruction.
I found one of the petty sheikhs at Jezreel, and engaged
him to ride with me to Carmel, to prevent annoyance and
perhaps danger; for his tribe were not of good repute. He
was a fine specimen of the Ishmaelite,-wild, free, and gen-
erous. He was finely mounted too, and quite willing to
show off by word and act the matchless perfections of his
mare. He asked me of my country, especially of what he
called the "fire-ships" and "fire-horses," of which some-
body had given him an account, though he had evidently
not believed a single word of it. After I had described as
well as I could the construction, and power, and speed of
steam-boat and locomotive, he came close up, and laying
his hand on my arm, and looking with eagle glance straight
into my face, he said, in a deep impetuous voice, " Ya Beg!
by the life of the prophet, are you laughing at my beard,
or is it truth you tell?" Of course I assured him I was
stating simple facts. He shook his head and turned away,
half perplexed, half disappointed. IIe rode on in advance
for nearly ten minutes without saying a word; then turning
he related with perfect gravity a story of his uncle, who
had ridden on the back of a Jann from Bagdad to India
and back again in a single night. There was a great deal
of quiet irony in this. I didn't believe a word of his story,
and he didn't believe a word of mine.
A sharp ride of an hour and quarter brought us to the
village of Taannuk, the representative of the old city of
Taanach. It stands near the northern base of the moun-
Mucu
259
tains of Samaria. Beside it is an isolated tell covered with
ruins.
BATTLE OF MEGIDDO.
We were now approaching the field on which Barak
gained his famous victory,-"The kings came and fought;
then fought the kings of Canaan in Taanach by the waters
of Megiddo" (Judges v. 19). We rode on across the
plain, through luxuriant corn-fields and verdant meadows,
and in less than an hour were on the site of Megiddo. The
old city has almost disappeared, and its name has long
since been forgotten. It is now called Lejjûn, a corruption
of the Roman Legio, which took the place of the Jewish
Megiddo. The ruins of a large medieval caravansery, two
or three mills in a wady near it, some columns, and rub.
bish heaps, and building stones along the banks of a little
stream,—such are the only vestiges of the royal city of
the Canaanites. They lie in a quiet nook at the foot of
the hills, on the border of Esdraelon. A short distance
north is a large tell or hill, isolated; it was probably the
site of a fortress or citadel. The stream flows past it, and
falls into the Kishon two miles northward. Here are un-
questionably "the waters of Megiddo," beside which the
battle was fought.
Riding to the summit of the tell, the battle-field was be-
fore me. Taanach was visible, and the intervening plain.
was spread out like a map. The details of the battle were
now intelligible. It would seem that Sisera had marshalled
his army,
with his "nine hundred chariots of iron," on the
south bank of the Kishon, between Taanach and Megiddo,
with the purpose probably of invading the territory of
the southern tribes (Judges iv. 13). But news arrived
that the northern tribes had assembled on Tabor. Sisera
turned to meet them-he was drawn unto Barak as Debo-
rah had predicted (ver. 7). Deborah gave the signal;
Barak charged down the mountain side. Probably the
repulse of the van took place between Tabor and Endor
(Ps. lxxxiii. 10). At that critical moment, as Josephus
260
GALILEE AND THE SEA-COAST.
tells us, before the Canaanites had time to rally, a tremen-
dous storm of rain, hail, and thunder from the east burst
upon the battle-field, and full in the face of the foe. Horses,
men, chariots, were driven back in fell confusion,-" They
fought from heaven, the stars in their courses fought
against Sisera" (Judges v. 20). The plain became a
marsh; the Kishon rose rapidly; its alluvial banks were
converted into a quagmire: "The river Kishon swept them
away, that ancient river, the river Kishon" (ver. 21).
In the spring of 1858 I saw the low parts of Esdraelon,
previously hard and dry, turned into a dangerous morass
by a few hours' heavy rain; and the Kishon was swollen
to such an extent as to render it altogether impassable at
the ordinary fords.
Six centuries later another battle was fought on the
plain of Megiddo. And then, instead of a song of triumph,
a death-wail re-echoed through the mountains of Israel.
Pharaoh-necho, marching against Assyria, passed along
the plains of Palestine. King Josiah rashly attempted to
oppose his progress. The Egyptian monarch gave him a
friendly warning: "What have I to do with thee, thou
king of Judah? I come not against thee this day, but
against the house wherewith I have war; for God com-
manded me to make haste: forbear thee from meddling
with God, who is with me, that he destroy thee not" (2
Chron. xxxv. 21). The warning was neglected. Josiah
posted his troops at Megiddo, so as to attack the Egyptians
when defiling through the pass from Sharon. But the ar-
chers of the enemy, perhaps from some hill-side or rock,
gave Josiah a fatal wound, and that decided the battle.
The king was carried away to Jerusalem to die; and the
whole land mourned so bitterly for the good king that the
mourning became a proverb, to which Zechariah thus al-
ludes,-"In that day there shall be a great mourning, as
the mourning of Hadad-rimmon, in the valley of Megid
don" (xii. 11).
BATTLE OF MEGIDDO.
261
It may be that this plain of Megiddo, this great battle-
field of Israel and of Palestine, was before the mind of the
apostle John in Patmos when he figuratively described the
conflict between the powers of good and evil, who were
gathered to a place "called in the Hebrew tongue Ar-
Mageddon," that is, "the city of Megiddo" (Rev. xvi.
16).
From Megiddo I rode westward along the south bank of
the Kishon, passing the desolate site of Jokneam, then
along the base of Carmel to Haifa, then up the steep path
to the convent, which I reached at length, weary and way-
worn, after one of the longest and hardest rides I ever had
in Syria.
III.
The Shrines of Naphtali and Cities of Phoenicia.
"Where is thy favoured haunt, eternal voice,
The region of thy choice,
Where, undisturbed by sin and earth, the soul
Owns thy entire control?
"Tis on the mountain's summit dark and high,
When storms are hurrying by ;
"Tis mid the strong foundations of the earth,
Where torrents have their birth."
T
HE Naphtalites were the highlanders of Palestine.
Their territory was a prolongation of "that
goodly mountain, Lebanon," separated from the
main chain by the narrow ravine of the Leontes.
Their shrines and strongholds were high up amid mountain
fastnesses; but their pastures stretched down to the banks
of the Jordan, and their corn-fields lay along the sunny
shores of the Sea of Galilee. Within their borders there
was more variety of scenery and climate than in any of the
other tribes. The plain of Gennesaret by the lake is seven
hundred feet below the level of the ocean. Tropical heat
and eternal summer reign there. The soil is of surpassing
fertility, yielding the choicest fruits, and producing the
rarest flowers. Even old Josephus, usually so dull and
prosy, waxes eloquent under the inspiration of the richness
and beauty of this noble plain. Then the green meadows
along the sacred river, and the verdant slopes and downs
above, rival in luxuriance the pastures of Bashan on the
opposite bank.
NAPHTALI.
263
And when we climb the wooded mountain sides that shut
in the Jordan valley, we find ourselves on a wide expanse
of table land, two thousand feet and more above the sea.
The scenery is here charming-altogether different from the
bleak hills and rugged glens of the south, where the vine
and the olive are at home upon rocky terraces. Here are
alluvial plains covered with waving corn; long undulat-
ing ridges, and graceful rounded hill-tops, clothed with the
evergreen foliage of the oak and terebinth; while thick-
ets of aromatic shrubs, and velvety lawns of verdant turf
spangled with flowers, fill up the forest glades. Then
there are glens-long, winding, densely wooded glens-
with tiny streams murmuring among rocks, and playing
with oleander flowers, away down in deep shady beds.
The mountain-sides are all furrowed with these glens,—so
retired, so musical, so fragrant, so wildly picturesque, that
one is never weary wandering through them, or reclining
in their sequestered dells. If nature could influence mind,
if it could create genius, Naphtali would be a land of poets.
There the mind receives by every avenue all that tends to
delight, to ennoble, to inspire. The fresh mountain breezes
are laden with perfumes-" the smell of Lebanon." The
ear is filled with melody-the song of birds; the murmur
of waters; the music of the forest as the tempest sweeps
its wild chords, or the zephyr touches, as with seraph's
finger, its softest notes. And the eye revels amid nature's
choicest scenes, the soft, park-like beauty of upland plain,
the picturesque loveliness of winding vale and glen, and
the grandeur of Hermon and Lebanon, whose snow-crowned
peaks rise far overhead, now cradling the storm-clouds of
winter, now distilling the dews of summer. Can it be that
the heaven-inspired Jacob, looking into the distant future,
saw Naphtali placed amid these ennobling landscapes, and
indicated its effects in the prophetic blessing, "He uttereth
words of beauty?" (Gen. xlix. 21.) And is it so that the
war-song of Barak-one of the finest odes in the Bible-is
12
264
GALILEE AND THE SEA-COAST.
an example of these "words of beauty," and has been
handed down to us as a specimen and proof of Naphtali's
poetic genius?
Naphtali also teems with animal life. I was always
deeply impressed with the solitude of southern Palestine.
The words of Jeremiah constantly recurred to my mind as
I rode across desolate plains and among desolate hills, "It
is desolate, without man and without beast" (xxxii. 43).
Men, beasts, and birds, seem alike to have deserted it. In
Naphtali all is different. True, man is almost a stranger
there also; but down by the Jordan the pastures are cov-
ered with droves of kine and buffalos; and the jungles are
filled with wild swine; and the surface of lake and river is
all astir with fowl. The mountain glens are infested with
leopards, hyenas, and jackals; and troops of fleet gazelles
scour the upland plains.
MOSES' BLESSING TO NAPHTALI.
The Jewish lawgiver saw in prophetic vision the country
in store for Naphtali, and in poetic imagery sketched its.
leading features. Unfortunately our English version cloaks
rather than reveals the graphic touches of the Hebrew. I
shall try to bring out the true meaning. The blessing is an
exclamation; as if, with eye opened, the seer had been en-
raptured by the sudden exhibition of a bright and joyous
picture: "O Naphtali, satisfied with favour, filled with the
blessing of Jehovah, possess thou the sea and Darom"
(Deut. xxxiii. 23). "Possess thou the sea," that is, the Sea
of Galilee with its sunny, fertile shores; "and Darom,"
the proper name of the mountain-district, the highlands,
probably so called from the southern aspect and bright
landscapes.*
66
*The English version has, instead of "the sea and Darom," "the west and the south."
The Hebrew word for the "sea" is also applied to the "west," because the sea was the
western boundary of Palestine; and the word Darom, though in this passage a proper
name, also signifies "the south," or "a southern region." Thus the error in translation
originated; an error which the geographer alone could detect and correct.
265
How expressive are these words! They throw light too
on a somewhat obscure passage in the New Testament.
When our Lord left his native Nazareth, and made Caper-
naum his home, and the country around it the scene of his
miracles and his teachings, Matthew says,—and here again,
in order to bring out the full meaning of the sacred writer,
I must somewhat alter our English version, usually so cor-
rect and so beautiful,--“ And leaving Nazareth he came and
dwelt in Capernaum, which is upon the sea coast, in the
borders of Zabulon and Nephthalim; that it might be ful-
filled which was spoken by Isaiah the prophet, saying:
The land of Zabulon, and the land of Nephthalim, the re-
gion of the sea, Peroa, Galilee of the Gentiles; the people
which sat in darkness saw great light" (Matt. iv. 13-16).
Here, be it observed, the district called "the region of the
sea," is the same which Moses calls "the sea;" and "Gali-
lee of the Gentiles" was the name given in the time of
Isaiah and of our Lord to the more ancient "Darom."
HISTORY OF NAPIITALI.
HISTORY OF NAPIITALI.
It is interesting and instructive to note the effect which
its geographical position had upon the character and his-
tory of Naphtali. It was separated from the great body.
of the nation. The power of Israel lay in the mountains
of Ephraim and Judah. The plain of Jezreel, so often
swept by foreign armies and desert hordes, almost cut off
communication with Naphtali, and left that tribe isolated
and helpless amid its mountains. Need we wonder that
under such circumstances it showed timidity and indecision
that it shrunk from active warfare, and left some of its
allotted cities in the hands of the Canaanites, rather than
battle for its rights (Judges i. 33). Even Barak, Naphtali's
most renowned warrior, refused to take the field until De-
borah consented to accompany him,-"If thou wilt go with.
me, then I will go; but if thou wilt not go with me, I will
not go;" to which the prophetess rebuking replied, that his
266
GALILEE AND THE SEA-COAST.
1
hesitation would strip him of his glory, and confer it on a
woman (Judges iv. 6-9). But, on the other hand, when the
tribe was once forced to war, when driven to bay, as it
were, by an implacable foe-when hesitation and timidity
could not secure safety, then the Naphtalites showed the
activity, the endurance, and the heroic spirit of mountain-
cers. Sisera learned this from fatal experience on the banks
of the Kishon. Viewed thus in the light of history we can
understand the meaning of Jacob's blessing, "Naphtali is
a hind let loose" (Gen. xlix. 21). It would seem as if the
patriarch's eye had swept these northern mountains, and
had selected one of their own gazelles as a fit emblem of
the tribe. Ever timid and undecided at first-more in-
clined to flee than to fight; but when once brought to bay,
a fierce, active, and dangerous foc. Some have said our
English version is here wrong. I cannot see it. The ren-
dering of the Hebrew is literal and grammatical. The
allusion is beautiful and true (compare 2 Sam. ii. 18; 1
Chron. xii. 8).
The geographical position of Naphtali produced other
effects upon its history. The tribe occupied border-land.
It came into close contact with the Syrians of Damascus,
with the mountain tribes of Lebanon, and especially with
the great commercial nation of Phoenicia. Separated from
the body of the Jewish people, forced into connection
with strangers, the Naphtalites became less exclusive than
their brethren. The Phoenicians traded with them, and
settled among them (1 Kings ix. 11-13). That sharp line
which separated Jew and Gentile was in part at least oblit-
erated. In worship, in manners, and even in language, they
accommodated themselves to their Gentile neighbours, and,
at length, the whole land was called "Galilee of the Gen-
tiles," and its people lost caste with the exclusive Jews of
the South. These facts may help to explain the question.
of Nathanael, "Can any good thing come out of Naza-
reth ?” (John i. 46); and the remark of the woman regard-
MOUNTAIN SCENERY.
267
ing Peter, "Thou art a Galilean, and thy speech agreeth
thereto" (Mark xiv. 70). Placed on the northern frontier,
Naphtali pore the first brunt of every invasion from that
quarter. The generals of Benhadad of Damascus "smote
Ijon, and Dan, and Abel-beth-maachah, and all the land of
Naphtali" (1 Kings xv. 20); and Naphtali was the first
among the tribes of Israel to fall beneath the power of
Assyria, and to feel the captive's chain (2 Kings xv. 29).
MOUNTAIN SCENERY,
It was a sunny day in the month of May I last rode
through the tangled thickets of thorns and thistles on the
desolate plain of Gennesaret, and after a farewell visit to
Chorazin, Bethsaida, and Capernaum, turned my horse's.
head towards the mountains of Naphtali. The heat along
the shore was intense; but as I climbed the rugged steep,
refreshing breezes fanned my cheek, and the perfume of a
thousand flowers filled the air. Poppies, anemones, mari-
golds, convolvulus, star of Bethlehem, and numerous others,
clothed the mountain side,-here a field of bright unbroken
scarlet; there another of golden yellow; yonder a bank of
shrubs and dwarf oaks, all draped and festooned with snow-
white convolvulus; and the intervals every where filled up
with a glowing mosaic of rainbow hues,-
fi And what a wilderness of flowers!
રી
It seemed as though from all the bowers,
And fairest fields of all the year,
The mingled spoil were scattered here."
It was a rugged and toilsome path. Often there was no
path at all; and we rode right on up bank, through brake,
guiding our course by the frowning battlements of Safed,
which loomed against the bright blue sky far overhead.
From the hill-side we turned into a wild glen, where the
voice of the turtle floated from tree to tree; and the cooing
of countless wood-pigeons ran like a stream of soft melody
along the jagged cliffs above us.
268
GALILEE AND THE SEA-COAST.
We stopped at intervals to look out over the country as
it gradually opened up behind us. I say we; for I was
not now alone-a goodly company of pilgrim friends from
the far west encircled me, all as fully alive to the beauties
of nature and the absorbing interest of "holy places" as I
was myself. I remember well one spot where we reined up
in a retired nook, under the shade of a huge walnut, to ad-
mire a scene of surpassing grandeur. In the foreground,
on the left, rose a limestone cliff three hundred feet or
more. Half way up was the façade and dark door of an
ancient sepulchre. Beyond it away down through the
vista of the wild glen, slept the Sea of Galilee in its deep,
deep bed. In the back-ground was the mountain-chain of
Gilead a massive wall of rich purple; and on the right,
over a forest of brown hill-tops, rose the graceful rounded
summit of Tabor.
SAFED-TIIE EARTHQUAKE.
We pitched our tents beside the castle of Safed, and
spent the evening in exploring its ruins. It crowns a peak,
two thousand seven hundred and seventy-five feet high,
which forms the southern culminating point of the moun-
tains of Naphtali. The town lies along the steep slope
beneath, and contains a population of a thousand Jews and
two to three thousand Muslems. The houses are ranged
like terraces the roofs of the lower tiers forming the
streets of those above. This accounts for the great des-
truction of property and the terrible sacrifice of human
life during the earthquake of 1837. Safed was then much
larger than at present; but in a single moment three-fourths
of its houses were thrown down, and five thousand of its
inhabitants buried beneath them. The poor Jews suffered
most. The spectacle presented after the earthquake was
heart-rending. Many were killed instantly; others, buried
beneath ruins, or wedged in by fallen stones and timber,
perished miserably before they could be released; a few
SAFED.
269
were only extricated after five or six days, covered with
wounds, fainting with thirst.
Abundant traces of the earthquake were still there.
Many of the largest and best houses in the town shattered
and deserted; others, though still habitable, rent from top
to bottom; the battlements and towers of the old castle
lying in confused heaps; and what was far more impressive
than all, and enabled one to form a fuller idea of the ap-
palling catastrophe, the whole surface of the ground, on
the top and round the sides of the hill, bore marks of the
frightful convulsion;-here, great masses of rock rent and
torn; there, huge fissures in the earth, half filled with loose
clay and stones from the shivered sides.
Hugh Miller has somewhere said, "The natural bound-
aries of the geographer are rarely described by right lines.
Whenever these occur, however, the geologist may look for
something remarkable." Probably Palestine affords the
best example of this in the world. From the foot of Her-
mon to the borders of Edom the Jordan valley is a right
line, straight as an arrow; and nowhere else does the geol-
ogist meet with such remarkable physical phenomena. The
whole valley, as I have shown elsewhere, is a huge fissure.
in earth's crust, varying from one to thirteen hundred feet
in depth. Asphalt is thrown up from its bed; sulphureous
vapours and boiling waters are emitted at intervals; while
the mountain-chains on each side are every few years
shaken to their base by internal convulsions. Safed ap-
pears to be one of the grand centres of volcanic action;
and it is interesting to note how the hot springs at Tibe-
rias, Gadara, and Callirrhoe on the shore of the Dead Sea,
well out in unison with the throbs of its fiery heart.
Safed is one of the four Jewish "holy places" in Pales-
tine, and yet it has no Biblical interest. Its castle is a relic
of the Crusades, originally built and garrisoned by the heroic
Templars. The great attraction of the place now, at least'
for the Christian pilgrims, is the noble panorama it com-
270
GALILEE AND THE SEA-COAST.
mands. From its crumbling battlements one gets perhaps
the best view of the deep basin of the lake of Tiberias, and
the chasm of the Jordan entering and leaving it; and then
he can look away out across the plateau of Bashan to its
mountain-chain on the eastern horizon. On the south-east
is the range of Gilead; and on the south the eye roams at
will among the wooded hills, and winding glens, and green
plains of Lower Galilee.
KEDESH-NAPHTALI.
I did not take the direct road to Kedesh. It was always
my plan in travelling through Bible lands to select the
routes of greatest interest, though they might not be the
shortest. I did so now. Diverging to the right, I rode
round the head of a ravine, and then along the eastern base
of a conical hill which overtops Safed. In half an hour we
reached the brow of the mountain ridge, overlooking one of
the most magnificent prospects in Syria. At our feet lay
the plain of the Upper Jordan, covered with verdure, and
having the lake Merom sleeping peacefully in its southern
end. Beyond it rose Hermon, towering fully ten thousand
feet above the plain, its top covered with snow, and sharp-
ly defined against the clear blue sky, as if chiselled in mar-
ble. To the left the long serried ridge of Lebanon ran
away, peak upon peak, all snow-capped, until lost in the
distance. We stood spell-bound,-
"While Admiration, feeding at the eye,
And still unsated, dwelt upon the scene."
Over the undulating upland plains of Napthali our path
now led, past little villages, through ripening fields of
wheat and barley, and across luxuriant wastes, over which
gazelles bounded before us in joyous troops. We zig-
zagged down into the wild ravine of Hendâj, and ate our
lunch where a willow drooped its weeping branches over
a foaming torrent. On the banks of this stream, farther
down, overlooking the "waters of Merom," lie, as we shall
KEDESII.
271
see, the remains of royal Hazor. As we sat there amid
gorgeous oleander flowers, the thought occurred to us, that
Sisera in his flight probably crossed the glen near this spot;
for it was on the high plain to the north he fell by the
treacherous hand of Jael.
At length we reached Kedesh, the "sanctuary" (such is
the meaning of the name) of Naphtali, and the city of re-
fuge for the northern tribes. The site is beautiful the
summit and sides of a little ridge projecting from wooded
heights on the west into a green plain. But the royal
city of the Canaanites (Judges xii. 22), "the holy place"
of Northern Palestine, is now ruined and desolate. True,
there are a few hovels on a corner of the site, and a few
shepherds on its pastures; yet the glory and the sacred-
ness of Kedesh have long since departed. Nought re-
mains to mark them save the old name and wide-spread
ruins. The ridge is strewn with ruins,-columns half bur-
ied in the soil; hewn stones gathered in heaps among corn-
fields, or built in rude fences around tobacco gardens; and
foundations too massive to be removed by the spoiler's
hand.
But the most interesting remains are in the plain. The
first building I examined was a square mausoleum, massive
and simple; its only ornament a bold moulding round the
doorway. The interior is cruciform, and contains a number
of recesses, or loculi, for bodies, in some of which are
mouldering bones. I had before seen similar tombs in Ba-
shan and anti-Lebanon. They are all probably of the
Roman age.
Not far distant is a group of beautiful sarco-
phagi, placed together on a platform of solid masonry some
six feet high. I have seen hundreds of sarcophagi clsc-
where in Palestine and Syria, but none like these. Two of
them are double,-that is, each block has two graves ex-
cavated in it, side by side, and covered by one lid. There
are also two single ones-six in all. They were richly
carved and sculptured; and although much worn, we can
:
272
GALILEE AND THE SEA-COAST.
discover wreaths of leaves and pine cones along the sides
of one, rams' heads at the angles of another, and an eagle
on another.
To the east of these are the ruins of a temple. The por-
tico has fallen, and its Corinthian columns are almost cov-
ered with thorns and thistles. A triple doorway, hand-
somely ornamented with wreaths of fruit and flowers, re-
mains perfect. On the lintel of one of the side-doors is an
eagle with expanded wings.
Dr. Robinson supposed that these remains were of Jew-
ish origin; and there seemed some cause for the belief in
the fact, that a Jewish tradition of the middle ages placed
here the sepulchres and monuments of Barak, Deborah, and
Jael. When I saw them I thought the style of the archi-
tecture and the sculptures on the sarcophagi were Roman
or Grecian rather than Jewish. Other travellers have
since examined them more thoroughly, and the result shows
that my impressions were correct. An altar has been dis-
covered at the large building, with a Greek inscription,
almost obliterated, containing a dedication to "the gods."
BARAK'S VICTORY.
Kedesh was the birth-place of Barak, Naphtali's hero
and Israel's deliverer. From Kedesh Deborah summoned
him to fight the battle of his country, and from hence he
marched at the head of ten thousand brave men. At Ke-
desh was thus enacted the first scene of that historic
drama; and beside it the last act also was performed. At
that time the tribe of Heber the Kenite was encamped
"at the terebinths of Zaanaim, which is by Kedesh"
(Judges iv. 11). . . . . It was the second day after the bat-
tle on Esdraelon; but the news had not yet reached these
mountains. From the towers of Hazor watchmen looked in
vain for a messenger; and the mother of Sisera called from
her window, "Why is his chariot so long in coming? why
tarry the wheels of his chariots?" (v. 28). On the evening
BETH-REHOВ.
273
of that day, a solitary footman is seen approaching the tent
of Heber. His step is tottering; his dress rent and covered
with mire; in his face is pictured black despair. Jael hast-
ens forth to meet him. It is Sisera. She needs to’ask no
questions, for she can read the whole story at a glance.
And hark! the cries of the pursuers already echo through
the mountains. See! their weapons flash amid the foliage.
"Turn in, my lord, turn in to me-fear not." He turned in
to the tent. "Give me a little water-I am thirsty." She
gave him milk: he drank, and sank exhausted into sleep.
It was his last sleep. Jael took an iron tent-pin in one
hand, and a heavy mallet in the other, and by a single
blow pierced the temples of the sleeping warrior. So died
Sisera.
Beneath the shade of a terebinth, by the ruins of Ke-
desh, I read this tragic tale. Before me, in a forest glade,
were the black tents of some Turkmans, modern represent-
atives of the Kenites. I saw the large iron tent-pins; I
saw the mallets with which the women drive them into the
ground when encamping, for this is their work. I saw the
women themselves-strong, active, fierce-looking women,
just as fancy would picture a Jacl. There was little want-
ing to complete the scene. That little imagination easily
supplied; and there again was realized before me one of
the most graphic of Bible stories.
BETH-REHOB.
I rode on north-east for two hours through a richly
wooded country, and then came out on the eastern brow of
the mountain range. A sharp descent of twenty minutes
brought me to the village of Hunîn. The great attraction
here is the castle, now in ruins, but exhibiting in its mass-
ive foundations and shattered towers specimens of the
workmanship of every race that held the country from the
Phoenicians to the Turks. The site is most commanding,—
a terrace on the steep mountain side, a thousand feet above
274
GALILEE AND THE SEA-COAST.
the plain of Dan. Facing it, on the opposite range of
Hermon, I saw the ruins of Cæsarea Philippi. The sacred
writer, in telling the story of the capture of Laish by the
Danites, says it was situated "in the valley that lieth by
Beth-Rehob" (Judges xviii. 28). There was the valley be-
low me, and yonder little rounded hill in the midst of it is
the site of Laish. Is not this therefore Beth-Rehob?
I here bade adieu to the mountains of Naphtali, and rode
over to the fountains of the Jordan.
THE INVASION OF TIGLATH-PILESER.
During another tour, made at the same season of the
year, I traversed Naphtali from north to south. Crossing
the Leontes at the Castle of Shukîf, I rode over a low ridge
into the beautiful plain of Merj 'Ayûn, which lies on the
northern frontier of Naphtali. I ascended the isolated tell
Dibbîn, at the upper end of the plain. It is about a hun-
dred feet high, and on its flat top and round base are heaps
of stones and rubbish. The tell takes its name from a
neighbouring village, but the name of the plain is ancient.
It is not difficult to recognise the Hebrew Ijon in the
Arabic 'Ayûn. On this -spot stood Ijon, the first city
captured by Benhadad when he invaded Northern Pales-
tine (1 Kings xv. 20), and the first taken by Tiglath-pi-
leser (2 Kings xv. 29).
I was now prepared to trace the route of the Assyrian
conqueror—that route along which he led so many weep-
ing captives in his train.
I rode down through fields of corn and green meadows
to the foot of the plain, some five miles from Ijon. Here,
on the top of a little conical hill, stands the village of Abel,
on the site of Abel-beth-Maachah, the second city cap-
tured by Tiglath-pileser. From it the Assyrians ascended
the mountains and marched upon Kedesh. I rode south-
wards along their eastern base to survey the plain of Hûleh
(or Merom), and search for the site of Hazor.
SITE OF HAZOR DISCOVERED.
275
After a long ride, the incidents of which I must here pass
over, I reached an undulating plain lying between the foot
of the mountains and the western shore of the waters of
Merom. Ascending a projecting ridge, I examined the
country minutely, and felt convinced that I had before me
the battle-field where Joshua overthrew the northern con-
federacy: "So Joshua came against them at the waters of
Merom suddenly" (xi. 7). If so, where was Hazor? It
must have been close at hand, for after the pursuit was
over, "Joshua turned back and took Hazor."
SITE OF HAZOR DISCOVERED.
The incidental notices of the sacred writers place Hazor
south of Kedesh (Josh. xix. 36; 2 Kings xv. 29); and Jo-
sephus states that it was situated over the lake of Merom,
and so close to it that the plain round the lake was called
by its name.
Beside where I sat was the mouth of the ravine of Hen-
dâj. Mounting my horse, I followed a broad path, like an
old highway, up its southern bank, and soon came upon the
ruins of an ancient city. Not a building-not even a foun-
dation was perfect. Large cisterns, heaps of stones, mounds
of rubbish, prostrate columns, the remains of a temple, and
an altar with a Greek inscription-such were the ruins
strewn over this site. I thought at the time that these
might be the ruins of Hazor, and I have since become more
and more confirmed in the belief.
From this interesting spot I rode over the mountains to
Safed, and thence I took a straight course down a rugged
hill side, and across undulating table-land overgrown with
thickets of gigantic thistles, to the mouth of the Jordan,
where it enters the Sea of Galilee. It was a toilsome but
most interesting ride, affording a clear view at once of the
wonderful richness of the soil, and no less wonderful deso-
lation of the country.
Having thus traversed Naphtali, which constitutes the
276
GALILEE AND THE SEA-COAST.
eastern division of Northern Palestine, I now turn to Pho
nicia the Western.
PHOENICIA.
Along the whole sea-board of Palestine extends a low
plain, twenty miles wide at the southern end, but at the
northern a mere strip. In Bible times it was divided into
three provinces, -Philistia, Sharon, and Phoenicia. The
ridge of Carmel separated the two latter. At its northern
base is the plain of Acre, reaching inland till it joins Es-
draelon. But the mountains of Naphtali first, and then the
loftier and bolder chain of Lebanon, shoot out their western
roots, and the coast-plain, from Achzib to the entrance of
Hamath, does not average more than a mile in breadth,
and is often intersected by rocky promontories. On this
narrow tract, under the shadow of Lebanon, stood the
world-renowned cities of Tyre and Sidon.
The founders of Phoenicia were Sidon, Arvad, and Arki
(Gen. x. 15-18) sons of Canaan, and consequently, in the
Bible as well as on their own coins and monuments, the
people are always called "Canaanites" (Judges i. 31, 32).
The name Phoenicia is of Greek origin, and probably de-
rived from the "palms" (phoenikes) that once waved on
the sunny plain. Phoenicia was the great mother of com-
merce-the England, in fact, of the Old World. The
proudest cities along the shores of the Mediterranean were
her daughters; Carthage, Syracuse, Cadiz, Marseilles, and
many others.
The plain of Phoenicia was included in the
Land of Promise (Josh. xiii. 4-6), but the Israelites were
unable, and probably unwilling, to expel the wealthy and
powerful traders (Judges i. 31, 32). David and Solomon
even sought their aid as seamen, and took advantage of
their skill as architects (2 Sam. v. 11; 1 Kings v.; ix. 27).
Thus, while the sacred interest that clusters round every
spot in Palestine can scarce be said to find a place in Pho-
nicia, there is a historic interest in its wave-washed ruins.
{
THE SEA-COAST.
277
that makes them dear to the scholar; and there is an oc-
casional connection between them and Bible story, which
awakens the attention of the Christian. Elijah's miracle at
Zarephath, a city of Sidon (1 Kings xvii. 9; Luke iv. 26),
our Lord's interview with the Syro-Phoenician woman
(Matt. xv. 21; Mark vii. 26), and the Apostle Paul's visits
to Tyre (Acts xxi. 3), Sidon (xxvii. 3) and Ptolemais (xxi.
7), can never be forgotten. Phoenicia, too, is full of pro-
phetic interest. The infallible truth of Scripture is written
upon her desolate shores.
THE SEA COAST.
My first ride through Phoenicia was a continuation of
one of my earliest tours in the Holy Land.
Many years
have passed since then, but the scenes are still fresh before
the eye of memory. From Nazareth I journeyed west-
ward through the wooded hills of Galilee and across the
rich plain to Acre. Accho, or Ptolemais, has little Bibli-
cal interest, so I pass it and ride northward to Achzib, one
of those cities which Asher thought it best to leave, with
Accho and Zidon, in the hands of the Phoenicians (Judges.
i. 31). The hills were now close upon my right, clothed
with olive groves, which brought to my mind Moses' bless-
ing upon Asher-"Let him dip his foot in oil" (Deut.
xxxiii. 24). I scaled the Tyrian Ladder, a bold headland
which shoots far into the sea, and in two hours more I clam-
bered up the dizzy staircase to the top of the White Cape-
a perpendicular cliff of limestone rising hundreds of feet
from the bosom of the deep; along its brow the ancient and
only road is carried, hewn in the living rock. Thence I
pushed onwards and encamped at the fountains of Tyre.
Nearly the whole shore from the Tyrian Ladder north-
wards was strewn with ruins. Heaps of hewn stones and
quantities of marble tessera lay in my path; while broken.
shafts and mounds of rubbish were seen to the right and
left-here crowning a cliff, there washed by the waves.
278
GALILEE AND THE SEA-COAST.
One thing I specially noted: from the time I left Achzib
till I reached the fountains I did not see a human being,-
a mournful and solitary silence reigns along Phoenicia's
coast.
TYRE.
Sp
I spent two days at Tyre, and they were not the least
interesting of my pilgrimage. I first examined the fount-
ains, now called Ras-el-'Ain. They are natural springs,
four in number, encircled by massive walls, which raise the
water high enough to supply the city, to which it was
taken on arched aqueducts more than three miles in length.
Next I minutely surveyed the desolate site of "Old Tyre,"
Palætyrus; and then crossing Alexander's mole, I explored
the whole remains of "New Tyre." The results of that and
other examinations I have detailed elsewhere (Hand-book),
and need not repeat here.
Tyre was a double city, or rather there were two cities of
the same name, an old and a new. The former stood on
the main-land, the latter on an island opposite, half a mile
from the shore. 'Of Old Tyre not a vestige remains. I
searched the plain on which it stood without discovering a
single fragment of a wall, or a trace of a foundation, or even
a heap of rubbish. History accounts for this remarkable
fact. Three centuries before Christ the city was taken by
Alexander the Great, who immediately proceeded to be-
siege New Tyre on the island. Not being able to reach its
walls with his engines, he collected the whole remains of
the old city-stones, timber, rubbish-threw them into the
narrow channel, and thus formed a causeway.
Here we have one of the most striking fulfilments of pro-
phecy on record. Three centuries before Alexander the
Great was born Ezekiel wrote,-"Thus saith the Lord God,
Behold, I am against thee, O Tyrus, and will cause many
nations to come up against thee, as the sea causeth his
waves to come up. And they shall destroy the walls of
RUINS OF TYRE.
Tyrus, and break down her towers: I will also scrape her
dust from her, and make her like the top of a rock.
They shall lay thy stones, and thy timber, and thy dust in
the midst of the water.
I will make thee a terror, and
thou shalt be no more: though thou be sought for, yet shalt
thou never be found again, saith the Lord God" (xxvi.
3, 4, 12, 21).
Would it not seem as if the prophet had drawn aside the
veil which shrouds futurity, and looking down through
five-and-twenty centuries, had seen that bare, unmarked,
deserted plain as I saw it? One might even imagine that
his prophetic eye had been able to distinguish a solitary
traveller from a far distant land wandering up and down,
searching, but searching in vain, for the city of which he
said, "Though thou be sought for, yet shalt thou never be
found again."
New Tyre is now represented by a poor village. The
ancient "mistress of the seas can only boast of a few fish-
ing-boats. The modern houses of a better class have had
their walls so shattered by earthquakes that the inhabit-
ants have deserted them; and the modern ramparts are so
ruinous that I went in and out over them in several places.
The most imposing ruin is that of the cathedral, built in the
fourth century, for which Eusebius, the ecclesiastical his-
torian, wrote a consecration sermon, and in which William,
the historian of the Crusades, presided as archbishop.
""
279
•
But one thing especially struck me in wandering over the
site of Tyre. Along the shores of the peninsula lie huge
sea-beaten fragments of the old wall, and piles of granite
and marble columns. They are bare as the top of a rock;
and here and there I saw the fishermen spreading out their
nets upon them, to dry in the bright sunshine. When I
saw them, I sat down on one of the highest fragments, and
read, with mingled feelings of wonder and awe, the words
of Ezekiel,—“ I will make thee like the top of a rock; thou
shalt be a place to spread nets upon" (xxvi. 14).
280
GALILEE AND THE SEA-COAST.
SIDON.
From Tyre to Sidon I rode in six hours, stopping in the
interval to examine the desolate site of the city of Sarepta,
and to read the story of Elijah's visit and miracle (1 Kings
xvii. 9-24). The aspect of Tyre is bleak and bare, but
that of Sidon rich and blooming. In fact, it is one of the
most picturesque towns in Syria. It stands on a low hill
which juts out into the Mediterranean, and is defended by
old but picturesque walls and towers. On a rocky islet,
connected with the city by a broken bridge, is a ruined
castle, once the defence of the harbour. The ancient ar-
chitectural remains about Sidon are few,—some marble and
granite columns, some pieces of mosaic pavement, and some
fragments of sculptured cornice. But the tombs are in-
teresting. They dot the plain and the mountain side be-
yond, and have already yielded a rich harvest to the anti-
quary, Phoenician sarcophagi, Greek coins, funeral orna-
ments, and crystal vases. They would still repay a fuller.
inspection.
The gardens and orchards of Sidon are charming. Or-
anges, lemons, citrons, bananas, and palms, grow luxuriant-
ly, and give the environs of the old city a look of eternal
spring. Sidon is one of the few spots in Syria where na-
ture's luxuriance has triumphed over neglect and ruin, and
where a few relics of ancient prosperity still remain in
street, and mart, and harbour. It is instructive to compare
Tyre and Sidon. The former far outstripped the latter in
grandeur, wealth, and power, but its history has been
briefer and more momentous. Once and again the tide of
war swept over Tyre, first leaving the old city desolate, and
then the new in ruins. Sidon has been more fortunate, or
perhaps I should say less unfortunate. The tide of war
swept over it too, but the wave was not so destructive.
How are we to account for this marked difference in the
history of two cities, founded by the same race, standing
BEAUTY OF SIDON.
281
upon the same shore, almost within sight of each other, in-
habited by the same people, and exposed to the same dan-
gers? Human foresight, had it been asked, would have
pronounced Tyre the more secure, because its position ren-
dered it almost impregnable. The Spirit of prophecy judged
otherwise. And in answering this question, the thoughtful
reader of the Bible and the thoughtful student of history
will not overlook the fact, that while Sidon's name is lightly
passed over by the Hebrew prophets, the curses pronounced
upon Tyre are among the most sweeping and terrible in the
whole scope of prophecy.
NORTHERN BORDER LAND.
G
ас
I
Lebanon.
"His countenance is as Lebanon, excellent as the cedars."-CANT. v. 15.
EBANON was the paradise of the Hebrew poets;
and it is not strange that it should have been so.
For grandeur of scenery, richness of products,
and beauty of climate, it is not surpassed in the
world. After Egypt's marshy plains, and Sinai's naked
cliffs, and the parched desert of dreary Arabia, need we
wonder that when Moses looked on Lebanon-its snow-
crowned peaks towering to heaven, its sides all waving
with foliage-he should have thus breathed forth to God
the desire of his heart: "I pray thee let me go over and
sce the good land that is beyond Jordan, that goodly
mountain, and Lebanon"? (Deut. iii. 25.)
Those only can realize the luxury of shade and verdure
who have traversed under an eastern sun an eastern wilder-
ness. Solomon, in the matchless imagery of his Song,
catches with all a poet's skill and with all a poet's enthu-
siasm the leading beauties of Lebanon. To the inhabitant.
of Jerusalem, parched with heat on a sultry summer's day,
the heaven above his head brass, the white walls, and white
rocks, and white hills all round him glowing like a furnace-
no fountain, river, or lake, no green meadow, no cool shade
in view-what could convey to his mind a more enchant-
ing vision than the words suggested by the scenery of
these mountains," A garden inclosed is my sister, a fount-
286
NORTHERN BORDER LAND.
ain of gardens, a well of living waters, and streams from
Lebanon"? (iv. 12, 15.) His eye also upon the freshness
of Lebanon's primeval forests, its forests of cedar, and pine,
and evergreen oak, and upon the grandeur of its outline, the
.poet-king delineates the glory of the spouse by a single
touch: "His countenance is as Lebanon" (v. 15). And
then again, revelling in vivid imagination in those green.
glades and vine-clad slopes, where the air is laden with
perfume, he says of the bride, "The smell of thy garments.
is like the smell of Lebanon."
How often have I myself luxuriated on banks of sweet
thyme, and in deep dells where the myrtle and honeysuckle
give forth their odours, and in gardens where the damask
rose and orange blossom fill the air with perfumes, amid the
heights of Lebanon! How often, too, after days of toil
and travel over trackless wastes, without the shadow even
of a great rock, my lips parched with thirst, my eye-balls
burning in their sockets, when at length I climbed those
mountains, and felt their soft breezes fanning my fevered
brow, when I quaffed their ice-cold waters, and looked on
their snowy peaks glittering under a blazing sun,-how
often then have I realized in their full force and meaning
the prophet's words, "Will a man leave the snow of Le-
banon? or shall the cold-flowing waters be forsaken ?" (Jer.
xviii. 14.)
Lebanon was ever before the eyes of the ancient Israel-
ite. From every hill top in Central Palestine, from the
depths of the Jordan valley, from the lofty table-land of
Moab and Bashan, he saw, away on the northern horizon,
those beautiful pale blue peaks with their glittering crowns.
And when he traversed Galilee, or went down to the shores
of its lake, then Lebanon and Hermon rose in all their ma-
jesty, appearing to him as visions of paradise. Can we
wonder that prophets spake and poets sung of the "glory
of Lebanon"? (Isa. xxxv. 2; lx. 13.)
The name Lebanon signifies "whiteness;" and it is ap-
NAMES OF LEBANON.
287
propriate whether we look at the whiteness of its limestone
cliffs or of the snow upon its summit. It is a singular fact
that the names of the highest mountains in most countries
have the same meaning. Himalaya, Alps, Mont Blanc,
Ben Nevis, Snowdon, Sierra Nevada, are all "white moun-
tains." The name Lebanon in Scripture is applied to two
distinct mountain chains which run in parallel lines on op-
posite sides of the valley of Cole-Syria. The western
range is Lebanon proper, and in Scripture is called by no
other name; the eastern is distinguished as "Lebanon to-
wards the sun rising" (Josh. xiii. 5), and its southern peaks
are known by many names-Hermon, Sirion, Amanus, &c.
Among the people of the country most of the old Bible
names are still used; but more commonly "Lebanon towards
the sun rising," the Anti-Libanus of classic authors, is
called Jebel esh-Shurky, the "Eastern mountain," while
Lebanon proper is styled Jebel el-Ghurby, the "Western
mountain." To Hermon is given the noble title Jebel esh-
Sheikh, "Prince mountain," and it deserves it.
To the grand scenery, waving fruit, and holy and his-
toric associations of Lebanon proper, I shall now endeavour
to introduce my reader.
PHYSICAL FEATURES OF LEBANON.
The range of Lebanon is about a hundred miles long. It
follows the shore of the Mediterranean, here sending out
rugged roots far into the sea, and here leaving a strip of
plain bordered by a pebbly strand. This plain has a fa-
mous name and a proud history of its own. It is Phoenicia,
the England of antiquity; and on it stood the great cities
of Sidon and Tyre, the cradles of the world's commerce.
Lebanon looked proudly down on these her fair daughters.
From the green meadows of Esdraelon rise, in graceful
undulations, the wooded hills of Galilee. The hills of Ga-
lilee swell up into the picturesque mountains of Naphtali;
and these again stretch across the sublime ravine of the
1
13
288
NORTHERN BORDER LAND.
**
Leontes and tower into the majestic ridge of Lebanon.
Commencing at an elevation of six thousand feet, this ridge
increases gradually to nearly eleven thousand, and then ter-
minates abruptly in the valley called by Moses the "en-
trance of Hamath" (Num. xxxiv. 8).
The eastern declivities of Lebanon are steep and rugged;
but the western are long and gradual, furrowed from top to
bottom by wild ravines, and broken everywhere by white
cliffs and rugged banks, and tens of thousands of terraces,
which rise like stairs from the sca to the snow wreaths.
These western declivities are the "roots of Lebanon,” mas-
sive, broad, and far-reaching. One can see as he wanders.
over them how graphic and expressive was the language of
Hosea: "I will be as the dew unto Israel; he shall grow as
the lily, and strike forth his roots as Lebanon” (xiv. 5).
BEYROUT.
The classic Berytus, famous for its school of philosophy,
and the modern Beyrout, has no place in the Bible. Yet
it is now the capital of Lebanon, and the only real sea-port
of Syria. Western enterprise has given it an air of pros-
perity, while grim desolation is elsewhere brooding over
the land.
The site of Beyrout is among the finest in the world.
From the base of Lebanon a triangular plain juts into the
sea, and round a little bay on its northern shore nestles the
nucleus of the city, cngirt by old walls and towers. Be-
hind the city the ground rises with a gentle slope, and is
thickly studded with villas of every graceful form which
Eastern fancy, grafted on Western taste, can devise; and
all embosomed in the foliage of the orange, mulberry, and
palm. In spring time and summer Beyrout is beautiful.
The glory of Lebanon behind, a mantle of verdure wrapped
closely round it, fringed by a pearly strand; in front the
boundless sea, bright and blue as the heavens that over-arch
it. Such is Beyrout.
RIDE TO THE DOG RIVER.
289
THE DOG RIVER AND ITS MONUMENTS.
It was near noon on a bright April day when I mounted
my favourite Nezîk-one of the prettiest and wildest of
Arab horses-at the gate of Beyrout. My servants and
muleteers were already hours in advance; and Nezîk, as he
champed the bit and pawed the ground, showed his cager-
ness to follow.
The mulberry groves and cactus-lined lanes were soon
passed. For a moment I drew up in the bay of St. George,
to take another look at the fabled scene of our patron saint's
conflict with the dragon, with which the fine old crown
pieces have made English eyes so familiar. Then fording
the sluggish Magoras, I reached the silver strand that here
stretches for miles along the Mediterranean. Loosening
the rein an hour's gallop brought me to the foot of the fa-
mous pass of the Dog River.
One of Lebanon's great "roots" here strikes far out, and
dips, a rocky precipice, into the bosom of the deep. Over
the rugged cliff the Egyptian Sesostris, thirteen centuries.
B.C., cut a zigzag road. Seven hundred years later the road
was repaired by the Assyrian Sennacherib, when on his
march to the fatal plain of Libnah, (2 Kings xviii. 13, &c.)
Then, after a still longer interval, came the Roman Anto-
nine, and reconstructed the pass. And since his day the
Turks and the French, if they have done little in the way
of repairs, have at least indulged their vanity by leaving a
record of their presence.
The long history of the pass is written upon its rocky sides.
Nine tablets are there, cach as big as an ordinary door.
Three are Egyptian, and six Assyrian; the latter distin-
guished by quaint, stiff figures, and yards of cunciform let-
ters. The Roman tablet is of more moderate dimensions:
plain, and matter-of-fact, like the men who made it. The
Turks have as many flourishes in their letters, as in their
legend; and the French, with characteristic modesty, have,
290
NORTHERN BORDER LAND.
!
it is said, for their visit was subsequent to mine, appropriat-
ed one of the Egyptian panels.
How strange to see in one spot, at one glance, inscribed
records extending back in succession almost to the time of
Moses! To see there, too, monumental evidence of one of
the most remarkable incidents in Bible history-the expe-
dition of Sennacherib! The tablets on this pass are not sur-
passed in interest or importance by any monuments in Syria.
Scrambling up the ancient road, and round the edge of a
dizzy crag, the glen of Nahr el-Kelb opened suddenly be-
fore me. It was a scene of singular grandeur. Away in
the depths beneath dashed the mad torrent in sheets of foam,
over its rocky bed. Its banks fringed with oleander, now
wet with spray, and glistening under the bright sunbeams.
Above rose jagged precipices of white limestone, crowned
far overhead by a convent and a village.
On a former occasion I traced the river to its source,
through rich Alpine scenery which gave me a vivid picture
of "the glory of Lebanon." Now my course was different.
I followed the deeply indented shore; and after an hour's
hard ride cooled my horse's foaming sides in
THE RIVER ADONIS.
A few days before my visit heavy rain had fallen in Le-
banon; and I had therefore an opportunity of seeing Adonis
66
run purple to the sea; "its waters tinged with the earth
the swollen torrent tore from the mountain sides. The
fable of Venus and Adonis is well known. The Greeks
borrowed it from the Syrians; and the bank of this stream
was the scene of the catastrophe. The story has a sacred
as well as a classic interest. Adonis was probably identi-
cal with Tammuz, for whom Ezekiel represents the infatuat-
ed Jewish women as weeping (viii. 14); and our own Mil-
ton has thrown around the heathen fable and the prophetic
vision all the charms of his matchless verse :—
THE CITY OF THE GIBLITES.
"Thammuz came next behind,
Whose annual wound in Lebanon allured
The Syrian damsels to lament his fate
In amorous ditties all a summer's day;
While smooth Adonis from his native rock
Ran purple to the sea supposed with blood
Of Thammuz, yearly wounded."
P
291
I rode slowly on, looking up at Lebanon, as peak after
peak revealed itself; and now out over the boundless Medi-
terranean gleaming like burnished gold beneath the even-
ing sun.
GEBAL.
I found my tent pitched under the crumbling ramparts of
Gebal; and dismounted at its door as the sun touched the
water.
Jebeil, the modern name of this town, is the diminutive of
the Hebrew Gebal, which signifies "mountain." The city
was the capital of the Giblites, or "mountaineers," the lead-
ing tribe of Lebanon in the days of Joshua (xiii. 5). The
Giblites appear to have been an educated and an enterpris-
ing people in a very remote age. They were Solomon's
chief architects when he built the Temple; though unfor
tunately our English version in 1 Kings v. 18, conceals the
fact, by rendering Giblites "stone squarers." They were.
famous, too, as ship-builders; for the ancients of Gebal and
"the wise men thereof" were leading men in the dock-yards
of Tyre (Ezek. xxvii. 9).
It is most interesting to observe how fully even inciden-
tal allusions of the sacred writers are confirmed and illus-
trated by the facts of ancient history and the results of
modern research. During the wars of Alexander the Great,
the fleet of Gebal, or Byblus as the Greeks called it, was a
formidable power in the Levant. When, on the morning
after my arrival, I proceeded to explore the ruins, I was
particularly struck with the massive and splendid masonry
of the ancient citadel. Some of its stones are twenty feet
long, and in their size, style, and perfection of finish, they
292
NORTHERN BORDER LAND.
;
closely resemble those I had before seen in the foundations
of the Temple at Jerusalem. May it not be that the very
same workmen were employed in the erection of both build-
ings?
But the glory of Gebal has passed away. Its massive
walls are rent and shattered; its harbour is a ruin; its navy
is reduced to some half-dozen fishing boats; and its popula
tion now consists of about six hundred poor peasants.
TRIPOLI.
A pleasant ride of eight hours took me from Gebal to
Tripoli. My road lay still along the shore: now winding
over the brow of a cliff, now diving down a break-neck path
into a dell, now treading softly the pebbly shore on which
the ever restless waves made solemn melody. Little vil-
lages, and convents, and vineyards, and groves of figs and
olives, tell of modern industry, and Lebanon's fruitfulness;
but wide-spread ruins, and shattered battlements, and de-
serted harbours, tell still more impressively of departed
greatness.
Tripoli is a picturesque town of thirteen thousand inhabit-
ants, embosomed in gardens and orchards of orange, apri-
cot, and apple trees. Its fruits rival those of Joppa and
Sidon. The surrounding plain is a little paradise, covered
with verdure, and sparkling with stream and fountain. A
triangular promontory juts out from the town into the Medi-
terranean, and on its northern shore, a mile and a half dis-
tant, is the Mina or port of Tripoli. This promontory was
the site of the ancient city-the Tripolis, or "Triple City"
of the Greeks, which, tradition says, was so named because
it was founded by three colonies from Tyre, Sidon, and
Arvad. I traced the ruins of the old walls along the neck
of the promontory, and around its shores; and I saw col-
umns of granite and marble, with heaps of stones and rub-
bish, scattered over its surface. During the first Crusade,
Raymond of Toulouse, built a castle inland on the banks of
THE GLORY OF LEBANON.
293
the Kadisha, for the protection of Christian pilgrims; and
around it the modern town has grown.
ASCENT OF LEBANON.
The sun had not yet risen over Mount Hor (Num. xxxiv.
7) when I set out for the Cedars. For nearly two hours I
rode along the northern bank of the Kadîsha, where it cuts
its way through the lower spurs of Lebanon. Then the
real ascent commenced. It was no child's play to climb
that mountain. The road is a mere goat track; now in a
rocky torrent bed, now on the brink of a fearful ravine, now
over a slippery crown of naked limestone, now up rude
stairs that seem as if "let down from heaven itself." Many
a bad and dangerous path I have travelled in Syria, but this
was among the very worst. Never before, not even when
ascending Hermon, had the mettle and the steadiness of
Nezîk been more severely tested. I confess, too, that my
own nerve was sometimes tried, when I found one stirrup
ringing against the overhanging cliff, while the other was
suspended over a fathomless abyss. The pass was often
such as that which Rogers paints:-
"The very path for them that dare defy
Danger, nor shrink, wear what shape he will ;
That o'er the caldron, when the flood boils up,
Hang as in air."
But the scenery was glorious. Villages all around, cling-
ing to the cliffs, or nestling away down in deep secluded
dells,-convents, like feudal castles, perched on every airy
crag and hill top,-vines springing from chinks in the
rock, and sending their long branches in festoons down its
jagged sides,-ranges of figs and mulberries covering ter-
races which the hand of industry has formed everywhere
from the bottom of the deepest glen to the summit of the
highest peak. Little isolated patches, and narrow, ribbon-
like strips of green corn were there too. Art and industry,
in fact, appeared as if triumphing over nature; while nature
294
NORTHERN BORDER LAND.
itself, in all its magnificent ruggedness, rejoiced in the tri-
umph.
On crowning cach successive eminence I looked down
with ever increasing wonder and admiration on new scenes
of mingled richness and grandeur. It is only under such cir-
cumstances, and after such experience, one can thorough-
ly comprehend the meaning of the prophet when he says,
"It shall blossom abundantly, and rejoice even with joy and
singing, the glory of Lebanon shall be given unto it" (Isa.
XXXV. 2); or of the psalmist when he utters the promise,
"There shall be an handful of corn in the earth upon the
top of the mountains, the fruit thereof shall shake like Le-
banon" (lxxii. 16).
I spent the night at the village of Ehden, which for beau-
ty might almost pass for an Eden. Beneath the shade of
one of its fragrant walnuts I lay the long afternoon gazing
dreamily down the mountain side, and away out over the
boundless sea. How sweet and fresh on that balmy even-
ing, when the dew began to fall, was "the smell of Leba-
non " !
The direct road from Ehden to the Cedars contains no-
thing of interest, so I rode down in the carly morning to
Kanobîn, the most celebrated of the Maronite convents,
and the chief residence of the Patriarch. Its site is singu
larly romantic. A little above it the glen of the Kadisha
contracts to a sublime chasm, its rocky walls rising perpen-
dicularly a thousand feet on each side, and in places not
leaving room for a footpath beside the stream that foams
along the bottom. On a ledge of one of these stupendous
cliffs, partly natural and partly artificial, stands Kanobîn.
Its church and some of its cells are hewn in the rock; and
many a strange and stirring legend is told of the fathers
who excavated and inhabited them. The Patriarch was
absent, but I was kindly and hospitably received by the
monks. In going round their shrines I could not suppress
feelings of shame-almost of horror, at the parody of Christ-
THE CEDARS OF LEBANON.
ianity which is there exhibited. Except in name the church
at Kanobîn differs little from the shrines of Baal, which pro-
bably occupied the same' place in the days of the old Gib-
lites.
295
The road from Kanobin to the Cedars passes through
some of the grandest and richest scenery in Lebanon. It
winds up the glen of the Kadîsha, which gradually expands
into terraced slopes, covered with vineyards, and the bril
liant foliage of the mulberry. Picturesque cottages, and
the mansions of hereditary sheikhs, here grouped together,
there scattered singly among gardens and orchards, stud
the whole banks. The cultivation is wonderful. Every
little dell away down beneath overhanging cliffs, every
nook and corner among the jagged rocks, every ledge and
cranny on precipice side, which, the foot of man can reach,
or on which a basket of earth can be deposited, is occupied
with vine, or mulberry, or patch of grain.
THE CEDARS.
>
At the head of Wady Kadîsha is a vast recess in the cen-
tral ridge of Lebanon. Round it in a semicircle rise the
loftiest peaks of the range, their summits glittering with
perpetual snow. The sides of the recess are smooth, white,
uniform, and perfectly bare; and in its centre, on the top
of a limestone knoll, far removed from all other foliage and
verdure, stand, in strange solitude, the Cedars of Lebanon.
Seen from a distance, the little grove is but a speck on the
mountain side; and the first feeling of the pilgrim who has
travelled far to visit it is that of bitter disappointment.
But when he enters all such feelings vanish. Then the
beautiful fan-like branches, and graceful forms of the young-
er trees, the colossal trunks of the patriarchs, and their great
gnarled arms stretching far out to embrace their brethren,
and the deep and sombre shade amid that blaze of sunshine,
-all combine to excite his admiration.
The grove is scarcely half a mile in circuit, and in some
3
296
NORTHERN BORDER LAND.
places is not dense. It contains only about four hundred
trees of all sizes. A dozen of them are very ancient, one or
two measuring upwards of forty feet in girth, and the others
not much less; but their trunks are short, and are much
hacked and hewn by the vandalism of travellers. Thirty
or forty others are of very respectable dimensions-three,
four, and even five feet in diameter. The younger trees
are mostly in the outskirts of the groves, and the patriarchs
in the centre. The grove would increase were it not that
the seedlings are either cropped by goats, or broken by
shepherds. At present there are no very young trees.
This was my second visit to the Cedars; and the impres-
sion made upon my mind was even deeper than before,-
probably in part owing to the solitude. My former visit
was during the annual feast, when the grove was filled with
noise and riot. Now, not a living creature was there, and
the snow wreaths still lay deep around the sacred trees. I
had ample time to examine their grandeur and beauty, and
to meditate on their long and glorious history. And as I
looked, I could not wonder that the Hebrews regarded them
with almost religious veneration, and that their prophets
called them the "trees of the Lord" (Ps. civ. 16), and the
place where they grew "the garden of God" (Ezek. xxxi.
8). Nor could I wonder that Hebrew poets selected such
graceful foliage, and stately forms, and colossal trunks, as
emblems of pride, and majesty, and power. "The day of
the Lord of hosts," writes Isaiah, "shall be upon every one
that is proud and lofty, and upon every one that is lifted
up, and he shall be brought low; and upon all the cedars
of Lebanon that are high and lifted up" (ii. 12, 13). And
Ezekiel says, "Behold, the Assyrian was a cedar in Leba-
non with fair branches, and of an high stature;
his height was exalted above all the trees of the field," &c.
(xxxi. 3, &c.)
As I sat there alone in the Cedar Grove, the Psalmist's
magnificent picture of a storm was brought more vividly
•
A STORM ON LEBANON.
before my mind than ever it had been before.
A huge
branch of one of the oldest trees had recently been broken
by a tempest, and in its fall had partly destroyed a younger
tree. There it lay before my eyes, amid the ruin it had
caused, as if to show the power of the storm, and to illus-
trate the words of the Psalmist. I read the words, looking
out, as I read, upon those "great waters" whence the voice
of the storm came, and upon those mountain sides up which
it rolled, and upon those cedars which it brake:—
(C The voice of Jehovah is upon the waters;
The God of glory thundereth :
Jehovah is upon great waters.
The voice of Jehovah is power;
The voice of Jehovah is majesty.
The voice of Jehovah breaketh the cedars,
Jehovah breaketh the cedars of Lebanon;
IIe maketh them skip like a calf. "
297
(Ps. xxix. 3-6.)
A piece of the broken branch I afterwards obtained, and
brought to this country; and I retain some of it still in its
natural state. Having read many contradictory accounts
of the quality and beauty of cedar-wood, I resolved to put
it to the test. I gave the branch into the hands of a skilful
workman, who made me an ornamental piece of furniture
out of a portion of it. He pronounced the wood to be of
the first quality-"almost as hard as oak, with a grain as
close as box." "It takes a high finish, and the carving stands
sharp and perfect. In appearance it does not differ much
from pine; but its colour is deeper and richer. It retains.
its fragrance as fresh and strong as when first cut. Should
any of my readers wish to see genuine cedar-wood from Le-
banon, if they will favour me with a visit, I shall feel great
pleasure in gratifying them.
THE TEMPLES OF LEBANON.
From the cedars I turned southward, following a path I
had travelled before, and have described elsewhere. It was
298
NORTHERN BORDER LAND.
now both difficult and dangerous, for the snow lay deep, and
the summer streamlets were converted into foaming torrents.
On the second day I reached the fountain of the Adonis
at Afka. It bursts from a cave at the foot of a stupendous
cliff, and its foaming waters rush down into a wild chasm.
The ruins of the Temple of Venus, built, tradition says, on
the spot where Adonis fell, lie strewn over a little mound
by the cave's mouth, and some of the massive stones and
granite columns are now in the bottom of the torrent bed.
Hence I rode along the flank of Jebel Sunnin, which rose
on my left, a spotless pyramid of snow. Passing the upper
sources of the Nahr el-Kelb, and the chasm spanned by the
natural bridge, I revisited the castle and temples of Fukra.
One temple is in part hewn in the rock; another, simple,
massive, and grand even in its desolation, is of the oldest
type. These were doubtless shrines of Baal or Tammuz,
built by the Giblites in remote ages.
Crossing another sublime glen, which sends a little tribu-
tary to the Dog River, I clambered up vine-clad slopes to
the Greek Convent of Mar Elias, situated on the summit of
a cliff commanding a wild and wide panorama of mountain
and sea.
1
After a short stay I again mounted and proceeded to Buk-
feiya, and received a hospitable welcome in the palace of
the Emir, one of the hereditary princes of Lebanon. The
site is charming. One would never weary looking down
through the vista of the magnificent valley of the Dog River.
The gardens, vineyards, fig and olive groves, that encircle ·
the houses and clothe the steep slopes below, bear noble
testimony to the fruitfulness of Lebanon. The peaks above
the village rise so steeply, and bristle so with pointed rocks,
that cultivation is impossible. Yet even there the brilliant.
foliage of the ilex, which springs out of every rent, contrasts
beautifully with the white limestone; while away along the
serried top of the ridge, where the sandstone crops out, are
thickets of pines.
<
RUINS OF DEIR EL-KULAH.
་
299
TEMPLE OF BAAL.
Deir el-Kulah is five miles south of Bukfeiya, but the road
is so bad and tortuous that it took me nearly as many hours
to reach it. The name signifies "the convent of the castle,"
and is descriptive, a convent having been built on the ruins
of an old fortress. It stands on the crest of a narrow and
lofty ridge, round whose base sweeps the wild glen of the
Magoras. The stream is fifteen hundred feet below, wind-
ing out and in among dark foliage like a thread of silver.
Eastward the eye wanders up the valley of Metn among
villages, and vineyards, and mulberry groves, and pine for-
ests, till it rests on the snowy peak of Kenîseh. North and
south extend mountain sides, rich and rugged, far as the
eye can see; and on the west the plain of Beyrout is at our
feet, with its wastes of white sand on the one side, and its
bright city embowered in verdure on the other; while be-
yond is the boundless expanse of the Mediterranean;—not
quite boundless, however, for when the glow of sunset man-
tles the horizon, the hills of far-distant Cyprus, overtopped
by classic Olympus, rise in clear outline.
The ruins at Deir el-Kulah include an ancient village, a´
castle or citadel, and a temple. The latter is the most in-
teresting. It is one hundred and six feet long, and fifty-four
broad. Its portico had a double range of columns, six feet
in diameter; and some of the stones in the walls measure
fourteen feet by five and a half. I saw, as others had seen
before me, several Greek inscriptions. They are short and
fragmentary, but fortunately long enough to throw light on
the origin and object of the building. One contains a dedi-
cation to "BAAL-MARKOS, Sovereign Lord of Sports." Baal
is often mentioned in the Bible. To him most of the "high
places" in Palestine were dedicated. Among the Phoni-
cians he was the chief object of worship, and his worship
was introduced into Israel by the infamous "Jezebel, daugh-
ter of Eth-Baal, king of the Sidonians" (1 Kings xvi. 31).
300
NORTHERN BORDER LAND.
In the Bible this deity is called by the different names, Baal
berith, "Lord of the Covenant" (Judges ix. 4); Baal-zebub,
"Lord of flies" (2 Kings i. 2); and Baal-peor (Num. xxv. 1).
So here we have a temple dedicated to Baal-markos, the
"Lord of Sports." It was doubtless one of the great centres
of Phoenician idolatry, where the kinsfolk and townsfolk of
Jezebel joined in their lascivious rites.
From time immemorial Lebanon has been a grand centre
of superstition and idolatry. Temples crowned almost every
height, and sanctuaries were consecrated in almost every
grove; "On every high hill, in all the tops of the mountains,
and under every green tree, and under every thick oak, they
did offer sweet savour to all their idols" (Ezek. vi. 13).
Time has not changed it. Professing a different faith, and
called by a different name, the religious spirit of its people
remains the same. Their convents are now as numerous as
their idol shrines ever were; and could the old Giblites and
Phoenicians again revisit their country, they would find it
hard to distinguish the saints and angels that deck the
Christian altars from the images of their own deities.
From Deir el-Kulah I descended to Beyrout, having thus
traversed nearly the whole Maronite section of Lebanon.
THE DRUSES AND THEIR MOUNTAIN HOME.
"Fierce, hardy, proud, in conscious freedom bold,
Those stormy scats the warrior Druses hold;
From Norman blood their lofty line they trace,
Their lion courage proves their generous race:
They, only they, while all around them kneel
In sullen homage to the Thracian steel,
Teach their pale despots' waning moon to fear
The patriot terrors of the mountain spear.
""
I have explored every interesting nook and corner in
southern Lebanon, the home of the Druses. I shall here,
however, give only a brief sketch of one short tour which
led me through the cream of the country, and at the best
season-the vintage.
THE DRUSES.
301
I left Beyrout for Deir el-Kamr on a sunny afternoon,
early in September. My only companion was my servant,
a mountaineer, who knew every inch of the road as well as
I did myself. The distance is five hours, and the path none
of the best. The first hour is in the plain wading through
deep sands under the shade of a pine forest, and then wind-
ing among mulberry gardens. There are more palms here.
than one is accustomed to see in Syria or Palestine—not in
groves like Egypt, but singly and in clumps of three or
four.
The foot of the mountain is reached and the ascent begins
by a track, more like the rocky bed of a winter torrent, than
a highway to the capital of Lebanon. But as we mount
the ruggedness is forgotten, and we are enraptured with the
variety, the richness, and the extent of the views. We miss
here, however, the close and careful cultivation of the Ma-
ronite district. The vines are not so well trained, and here
and there are long reaches of mountain side, where the old
terraces re broken and the soil waste. The Druses are
warriors rather than husbandmen. They delight in arms
more than in vineyards. One notices this as soon as he
enters their country. He reads it in their looks. The flash-
ing eye, and haughty step, and calm demeanour, are not the
characteristics of a son of toil. The trim beard, and spotless
white turban, and long dagger proclaim the soldier rather
than the peasant. Still the Druses are not wanting in in-
dustry, and were they under a wise rule much might be made
of them.
The costume of the women in this part of Lebanon, Drus-
es and Christians alike, is strange and striking. Here one
sees at every fountain that most singular of all the singu-
larities of female dress or ornament-the tantúr. It is a
tube or horn, of gold or silver, from one to two feet long,
and about two inches in diameter, tapering slightly. To
the lower end are fastened a number of silver knobs by
silken cords a yard in length. The horn is placed erect on
302
NORTHERN BORDER LAND.
the top of the head, strapped round the chin, and balanced
by the silver knobs which hang down the back. Over the
whole is thrown a long veil of white muslin, which at the
pleasure of the wearer is either permitted to descend in
graceful folds behind, or is brought round so as to conceal
both face and figure. Such is the ordinary costume of the
inatrons of Lebanon; and whatever may be said of its ab-
surdity, there can be no doubt that it gives a grace and dig-
nity to the carriage worthy of imitation in more favoured
lands. The tantûr is the first requisite of the bride; for
maidens are not permitted to wear it. Its origin is un-
known, and it is very questionable whether it is to it the
Psalmist alludes (lxxv. 4).
A DRUSE WEDDING.
On approaching the village of Ain 'Anûb we were some-
what startled by hearing dropping shots, and seeing troops.
of horsemen galloping hither and thither along the moun-
tain side. We soon learned that it was the wedding of one
of the hereditary Sheikhs; and I was invited to halt an hour
and see the fete. I gladly consented.
The ordinary mode of procedure on the wedding day is
this. Some Druse priests, accompanied by a few of the
bridegroom's relatives, go to the bride's house, which, in
this instance, was in a neighbouring village. After draw-
ing up and reading the marriage contract, the bride, in her
richest attire, and completely enveloped in a veil of white
and gold, is placed on a horse covered with superb housings,
and led off to her husband. A long train of relatives and
friends, male and female, in holiday costume, follow her.
When they get within half a mile or so of her husband's
village, his friends and retainers-amounting in the present
case to several hundreds-sally out, and a mock combat.
ensues. Both parties being armed, and well trained in
mountain warfare, the scene becomes intensely exciting.
From behind rocks and trees, from the tops of cliffs, from
?
203
every point of vantage, volleys of musketry-blank of
course—are poured upon the advancing troop. The horse-
men charge and retreat. Step by step the bridegroom's
party retire, contesting every inch; and at length amid
ringing cheers, and shrill cries of women, and salvos of inus-
ketry, the bride enters the village in triumph, and is hurried
away to the harim. There she is left alone, still enveloped
in her veil, to await her husband who has never yet seen
her face. After some time he enters, respectfully lifts the
veil, takes one look, immediately replaces it, and returns to
his guests. The revels go on often for many days.
The sun had long set ere I entered Deir el-Kamr.
THE MASSACRE OF DEIR EL-KAMR.
THE MASSACRE OF 1860.
Deir el-Kamr is, or rather was seven years ago, a beauti-
ful little town of seven thousand souls, built high up on the
side of a wild glen, and encompassed by terraced vineyards
and orchards. The castle, occupied by a Turkish garrison,
crowns a cliff; and on the opposite side of the glen stands
the beautiful palace of the Emir Beshir, the former gover-
nor of Lebanon. The steep and richly wooded bank leading
up to it, the commanding site, the vast mass of picturesque
buildings, and the wooded hill behind, all remind one of the
Castle of Heidelberg. For years the palace has been turned
into a barrack; and the Turks are doing there what they
have done everywhere;-they are fast reducing its splendid
courts, and marble halls, and gilt saloons, to ruin.
Deir el-Kamr has suffered more from the hereditary strife
of Druse and Maronite than any other place in Lebanon.
Being an exclusively Christian town, in the centre of a
Druse district, it has ever borne the first brunt of battle,
and has repeatedly been burned to ashes. But the most
fearful tragedy, even in its sad history, was enacted in 1860.
At the commencement of the outbreak in that year, the
town was taken and plundered by the Druses, who, after
burning Zahlch, returned to complete the work of destruc-
304
NORTHERN BORDER LAND.
med
tion. The unfortunate inhabitants resolved to defend their
lives to the last, for they knew too well the fate that await-
ed them. The rest of the sad tale I shall give in the words
of one who was all but an eye-witness.* "The Turkish
governor, who had four hundred troops in the castle, while
at Bteddin, half a mile off, there were three hundred more,
told the people they had nothing to fear if they would give
him up their arms; and he insisted on their doing so. They
applied for an escort to Beyrout; this he would in no wise
permit. Their valuables he made them place in the castle,
and then ordered a great part of the population there. So
men, women, and children were all crowded together in the
palace, under his protection, on the night of the 20th. On
the morning of the 21st, the Druses collected round the
town; one of their leaders came to the palace and desired to
speak with the governor. A conversation was carried on in
a low voice. . . . . At last a question was asked to which the
governor gave the answer, IIepsi, that is, 'all.' Hereupon
the Druse disappeared, but in a few minutes the gate was
thrown open, and in rushed the fiends, cutting down and
slaughtering every male; the soldiers co-operating!"
Twelve hundred men were massacred on that fatal day!
SOUTHERN LEBANON.
¡
At six o'clock I was again in the saddle, and in an hour
drew up upon the brow of Wady Barûk, four miles south
of Deir el-Kamr, and one of the richest and wildest glens in
Lebanon. Iligh up on its southern bank stands the village
of Mukhtara, and the palace of the late Said Bey, the Chief
of the Druses. It is a building of great size, occupying a
splendid site; but with no pretensions to architectural beau-
ty. After a hurried visit to the Bey, whom I had known
before, and who now insisted on sending a couple of horse-
men with me, I continued my journey.
* Cyril C. Graham, Esq.
305
Our path lay along the terraced mountain side, often be-
neath the spreading branches of fragrant walnuts.
We
looked down into the lovely valley of Barûk, and away over
a wooded ridge beyond it to the Mediterranean. Village
after village was passed, and vineyard after vineyard. Ever
and anon boys and girls came rushing out with bunches of
luscious grapes that would have done honour to the vines of
Eschol, and prayed the Bey to accept their offering.
Leaving the vale of Barûk we struck up Wady Jezzîn; and
passing a large village of that name, we ascended through a
bleak and rugged region to the southern brow of Lebanon.
The scene which here suddenly burst upon our view was
magnificent. Four thousand feet and more beneath where
we stood, was the deep chasm of the Leontes, which inter-
sects the range, carrying the waters of Cole-Syria to the
Mediterranean. Over it frowned the massive battlements
of the Castle of Shukîf, founded by the Phoenicians to guard
the road to their agricultural colony at Laish. On the cast
rose Hermon, its icy crown gleaming in the ruddy sunshine.
At its base were the plains of Ijon (1 Kings xv. 20), and
Dan (Judges xviii. 7–10), extending in green meadows to
the Waters of Merom (Josh xi. 5). On the south lay the
picturesque mountain chain of Naphtali, over which ap-
peared on the horizon the pale blue hills of Samaria. And
away on the right was the wavy coast line running along
from the shattered battlements of Tyre to the distant Cape
of Carmel. In fact the whole northern division of Pales-
tine was before my eyes, every feature brought out in bold
relief by the evening sun. It was one of those pictures
which time can never efface from memory.
VIEW FROM LEBANON.
The descent to the banks of the Leontes was long and
toilsome. Crossing the stream by the old bridge of Burg-
hos, we attempted to reach a small village near it, where
we intended to pass the night; but we lost our way, and
were obliged to halt under a large oak-tree. Tying my
306
NORTHERN BORDER LAND.
horse to a branch, I wrapped my cloak around me and was
soon asleep. My companions followed my example; and
next day we proceeded to Rasheiya, whence I went to Da-
mascus. Thus terminated my tour in Southern Lebanon.
II.
Hamath and the Northern Border of Israel.
"This shall be your north border. From the Great Sea ye shall point out for you
Mount Hor: from Mount Hor ye shall point out unto the entrance of Hamath; and
the goings forth of the border shall be to Zedad: and the border shall go on to Ziphron,
and the goings out of it shall be at Hazar-enan: This shall be your north border."-
NUM. xxxiv. 7-9.
પ
ROM Dan to Beersheba" was in olden days the
popular expression for "all Palestine." "The
throne of David was set over Israel from Dan
F
even to Beersheba" (2 Sam. iii. 10); "The king
said to Joab, Go now through all the tribes of Israel, from
Dan even to Beersheba, and number the people, that I may
know the number of the people" (xxiv. 2). The phrase has
'become a world's proverb; and yet I have reason to believe
that it is often misunderstood by Biblical students; and I
know that it formed the basis of one of the grossest blun-
ders in Bishop Colenso's unfortunate book-that in which
he compares the numbers of the Israelites with the extent
of Canaan."*
Dan and Beersheba were the northern and southern lim-
its of the country allotted to the twelve tribes by Joshua,
and actually possessed by them. Two other land-marks are
also mentioned by the sacred historian. "So Joshua took
all that land..... from the mount Halak that goeth up to
Seir, even unto Baal-gad in the valley of Lebanon under
mount Hermon" (Josh. xi. 17); and again, "These are the
*Pentateuch, Part I. p. 82.
308
NORTHERN BORDER LAND.
kings which Israel smote. . . from Baal-gad in the valley of
Lebanon even unto mount Halak that goeth up to Seir,
which Joshua gave unto the tribes of Israel for a posses-
sion" (xii. 7). Mount Halak was in the parallel of Beer-
sheba, and Baal-gad is identical with Banias, four miles
east of Dan. These then were the limits of what we may
call "the land of possession." "The land of promise" was
much larger. Its boundaries are defined in the words of
the Lord to Abraham :-"In the same day the Lord made a
covenant with Abraham, saying, Unto thy seed have I given
this land, from the river of Egypt unto the great river, the
river Euphrates" (Gen. xv. 18). The promise was renewed
to Israel in the desert,-"I will set thy bounds from the
Red Sea even unto the sea of the Philistines, and from the
desert (of Sinai) unto the river" (Euphrates). This wide.
territory, extending from Egypt on the south to the banks.
of the Euphrates on the north, was promised upon condi-
tions; the people were on their part to be faithful and obe-
dient to their God," If thou shalt indeed obey his voice,
and do all that I speak, then... mine angel shall go before
thee and bring thee," &c. (Exod. xxiii. 22-31). Israel did
not fulfil the conditions, and, therefore, the whole land was
not given to them; "And the anger of the Lord was hot
against Israel, and he said, Because that this people hath
transgressed my covenant which I commanded their fathers,
and have not hearkened unto my voice, I also will not
henceforth drive out from before them of the nations which
Joshua left when he died," &c. (Judges ii. 20-23; compare
Josh. xxiii. 13-16).
These facts were unknown to Bishop Colenso; or, if
known, they were unfairly overlooked, and hence the force
of one of his most telling but most sophistical objections to
the truth of the Divine Record.
Before the death of Moses a distinct revelation was given
to him of the boundaries of the country which Israel was to
occupy. It is a singular fact that these were different both
309
""
from those in the Abrahamic covenant, and those of "the
land of possession." On the south the border line reached
from Kadesh to the river of Egypt (Num. xxxiv. 4, 5);
while on the north it is thus described:-"This shall be
your north border; from the Great Sea ye shall point out
for you Mount Hor; from Mount Hor ye shall point out unto
the entrance of Hamath; and the goings forth of the border
shall be to Zedad; and the border shall go on to Ziphron,
and the goings out of it shall be at Hazar-enan (verses
7-9). Dan, as has been stated, was the northern limit of
"the land of possession." Hamath is one hundred and
twenty miles north of Dan. The ranges of Lebanon and
Anti-Lebanon, the valley of Cole-Syria, and the plain of
Hamath, lie between them. This fact explains Joshua xiii.
After the division of the country "from Dan to Beersheba "
among the tribes by Joshua, a large part of the territory
promised to Moses still remained, and is minutely described.
The section lying on the north is as follows: "The land of
the Giblites, and all Lebanon toward the sunrising (Anti-
Lebanon), from Baal-gad under Mount Hermon, unto the
entering into Hamath; all the inhabitants of the hill country
from Lebanon unto Misrepothmaim, and all the Sidonians "
(verses 5, 6).
It will thus be seen that the country given in covenant
to Abraham extended from the river of Egypt to the Eu-
phrates; that promised to Moses extended from the river of
Egypt to the entrance of Hamath; while the phrase "from
Dan to Beersheba" only embraced the territory actually
divided by Joshua among the tribes.
"A land of promise" is still in store for the ancient peo-
ple of God. Ezekiel in prophetic vision gives its boundar-
ies, which correspond at all points except the east with
those of Moses. It is only with the north I have to do at
present; and Ezekiel defines it as follows:-"This shall be
the border of the land toward the north side, from the Great
Sea, the way of Hethlon, as men go to Zedad; Hamath, Be-
ANSWER TO COLENSO.
310
NORTHERN BORDER LAND.
rothah, Sibraim, which is between the border of Damascus
and the border of Hamath; Hazor-hatticon, which is by the
coast of Hauran. And the border from the sea shall be Ha-
zar-enan " (xlvii. 15–17).
These northern marches do not lie. in the usual route of
travellers. Comparatively little has been written about.
them. Yet among them were laid the scenes of some of
the most tragic events of Jewish history. In addition to
holy and historic interests, therefore, a visit to the leading
places may have the charm of novelty.
HAMATH.
Hamath is a quaint old city. If one could fancy Pompeii
restored and repeopled with the men and women whose
mouldering bones are now being dug up from its ruins, it
would not present a greater contrast to the modern cities of
the west than Hamath. For thirty centuries or more, life
has been at a stand-still there. Everything is patriarchal-
costume, manners, salutations, occupations. The venerable.
elders, who, with turbaned heads, flowing beards, and flow-
ing robes, sit daily in the gates, might pass for the elders of
the children of Heth who bargained with Abraham in the
gates of Kirjath-arba; and the Arab sheikhs, who ever and
anon pass in and out, armed with sword and spear, are no
unworthy representatives of the fiery Ishmael. There is not
town in the world in which primeval life can be
purity as in Hamath. The people glory in it. No greater
insult could be offered to them than to contrast Hamath
with the cities of the infidel.
seen in such
The site of Hamath is picturesque. It stands in the deep
glen of the Orontes, whose broad rapid stream divides it
through the centre. The banks are lined with poplars, and
the queer houses rise like terraces along the steep slopes.
Four bridges span the stream, and connect the two quarters
of the city. The remains of antiquity are nearly all gone;
the citadel is a vast mound of rubbish; the mosques are
HAMATH'S HISTORY.
311
falling to ruin; and the private houses, though in a few
cases splendidly decorated within, are shapeless piles of mud
and timber.
But the great curiosities of Hamath are its Persian wheels,
numbers of which are ranged along the river side, turned by
the current, and raise water to supply the mosques, houses,
and gardens. Like everything else, they are old and crazy;
and as they turn lazily round they creak, and groan, now in
deep bass, now in shrill treble, and now in horrid concert of
jarring sounds. In the still summer evening when the shad-
ows fall upon the river banks, hiding the rippling water and
the labouring wheels, and when silence reigns over the
streets and houses of the old city, these strange sounds swell
up from the gathering gloom, and echo through the valley,
as if the spirits of evil had broken from their prison-house
and were filling the air with shriek and wail.
Hamath takes rank among the oldest cities of the world,
having been founded by the youngest son of Canaan, some
four thousand years ago (Gen. x. 18). It was already the
capital of a kingdom at the Exodus. During the warlike
rule of David it was forced to yield allegiance to Israel (2)
Sam. viii. 9); but at a later period Hamath had attained
to such power that Amos distinguished it by the name
"great" (vi. 2); and the Assyrian monarch spoke of its con-
quest as among the most celebrated of his achievements
(2 Kings xviii. 34). When the kingdom of the Seleucidae
was established in northern Syria the name Hamath was
changed to Epiphania, in honour of Antiochus Epiphanes,
but on the overthrow of Greek power the Greek name dis-
appeared; and we have to this day the old Hebrew appel-
lation retained in its Arabic form Hamah.
Hamah has still thirty thousand inhabitants. It has for
many centuries been the residence of a remnant of the old
Mohammedan aristocracy-a race now distinguished for
poverty, pride, and fanaticism. They are the determined
enemies of all change alike in religion, literature, art, and
14
312
NORTHERN BORDER LAND.
social life. The age of Mohammed is their golden age; and
the literature of the Koran the only literature worthy of the
name. Wherever one meets with or sees them strutting
through the dingy streets, sitting in the gates, or at their
devotions in the mosque, he is immediately reminded of the
Pharisee's prayer, "God, I thank thee that I am not as
other men are."
I once met a distinguished member of this proud race at
the house of a learned and liberal Moslem friend in Damas-
cus. The conversation turned on the progress of art and
science in Western Europe. Railways, steam-engines, print-
ing-presses, the electric telegraph, and many other triumphs
of modern discovery, were spoken of. He listened with per-
fect calmness and indifference; and as he haughtily stroked
his beard he now and again muttered a few words, among
which I could detect the not very complimentary kâferîn
("infidels "). A beautiful copy of the Koran, a gem of the
Leipzig press, was put into his hand. He opened it. “It is
printed," he exclaimed, throwing it from him and wiping his
fingers as if the very touch was pollution.
I drew his attention to the comparative state of England
and the East, both in ancient and modern times. I showed
him that there must be something wrong in the latter-
some grievous defect in its government, and in its faith-
when such a fatal check was put upon the advance of art
and civilization. His reply was singularly characteristic of
the state of feeling among all orthodox Mohammedans. It
explains also, as I believe, the true source of Turkish mis-
rule, "The Franks," said he, "possess the wisdom and the
power of janns (evil spirits); but Allah has reserved for us
alone the true religion. Lillâh el-mejd, glory be to God!"
TIE LAND OF IIAMATII.
Emerging from the glen, in which the city stands, we find
ourselves in an open undulating plain, bleak and bare. A
patch of grain here, a shepherd and his flock yonder, and
AN ARAB RAID.
313
a party of Arab horsemen hovering on the horizon, are the
only objects that break the monotony of the dreary ride
across it. The little excitement of danger one almost feels
to be a relief here. Shade there is none, and green grass,
except it happen to be the spring season, is nowhere seen.
The Orontes is hid in its deep bed some miles to the cast-
ward.
Three hours sharp riding along the line of an old Roman
highway brings us again to the brow of a ravine, and look-
ing down the steep, rugged bank, we see the yellow river
shooting along far below, between rows of willows that
stoop to kiss its murmuring waters. A bridge of ten arches,
and bearing the marks of Roman, Saracen, and Turkish ar-
chitects, spans the channel. Crossing it and clambering up
the southern bank, we stand amid the ruins of Arethusa, an
ancient episcopal city. Traces of walls, and gates, and
streets, and churches, and fields surrounding them are here,
all now ruined and forsaken.
After wandering for a time among the ruins I discovered
a poor gipsy crouching in terror beneath a shattered wall.
He was the only living being in Arethusa, and his tale was
sad enough. The day before he was rich and happy, the
head of a numerous family and of an attached tribe. Now
he was alone, and a beggar. The tents of his people had
been pitched on the banks of the Orontes; their camels and
goats were feeding on the plain. A troop of Anezeh came
suddenly upon them and swept them all away, camels,
goats, tents, women, children. He with his two sons es-
caped by plunging into the river and swimming across.
His sons were on the track of the plunderers, and he was
lurking here in the hope of being able during the night to
effect the release of his family, and perhaps also to recover
his flocks or a sufficient equivalent. Property is as insecure.
still on the borders of the Arabian desert as it was in the
days of Job (Job i. 14, 15).
About three miles east of Arethusa is the little village of
314
NORTHERN BORDER LAND.
Zifrún, probably identical with Ziphron, which Moses men-
tions as one of the border cities of "the promised land"
(Num. xxxiv. 9).
I was anxious to visit the village, so as to make a full
survey of the northern "marches;" but the Anezeh were
reported to be encamped near it, and the whole plain was
scoured by their horsemen. My servants and guide refused
to accompany me. They even refused to travel to Hums
by the east bank of the river, for they said the Arabs would
sce and plunder us. There is a path along the west bank,
but it is very long and very bad, and I determined not to
take it whatever might happen. Secing that arguments
were vain, and that the sun was getting low, I.spurred my
horse and dashed away along the direct route. My servants
reluctantly followed. We met only two Anezeh cavaliers,
and they thought it prudent to let us pass. The muezzin
was calling the "faithful" to evening prayers when we en-
tered the gate of Emesa.
#
EMESA.
The Arab Hums, and Roman Emesa, has little of histor-
ical or antiquarian interest to attract the traveller. It is a
clean, compact, bustling town of twenty thousand inhabit-
ants, surrounded by old walls barely sufficient to repel a
sudden foray of Bedawîn. It was celebrated in classic
times for a magnificent temple dedicated to the Syrian sun-
god, whose priests were princes of the land. One of them
became Roman emperor, and is usually called by the name
of his deity, Elagabalus. Emesa was unknown in history
before the days of Strabo; but it is just possible that it may
be identical with the Biblical Zobah, which was situated
between Hamath and Damascus (1 Kings xi. 23; 1 Chron.
xviii. 3), and which King David conquered when endeav-
ouring to gain for Israel the whole land embraced in the
Abrahamic covenant. Such I take to be the meaning of 2
Sam. viii. 3; "David smote also Hadadezer, son of Rehob,
315
king of Zobah, as he went to recover his border at the river
Euphrates" (compare Gen. xv. 10).
THE ENTRANCE OF HAMATH.
Not a vestige of Roman Emesa is now visible except a
few marble and granite columns scattered about the streets,
and built up in the modern walls. The mound on which
the citadel, and probably also the temple, once stood, is like
an immense rubbish heap, and reminds one of the mounds of
Nineveh and Babylon. Like them it might richly repay
the labour of excavation. There are many other similar
mounds on the neighbouring plain. This measures a quar-
ter of a mile in circuit and upwards of a hundred feet in
height. From its summit I got a most commanding view
of the "land of Hamath." It is a vast plain, stretching on
the east and north to the horizon, and shut in on the south
and west by mountain ridges. It embraces a circuit not
less than fifty miles in diameter; and through it from north
to south winds the Orontes. A short distance west of
Emesa is Bahr Kades, a lake eight miles long, partly, if not
entirely, artificial, formed by a great dam drawn across the
bed of the river. The water thus raised is conducted by
canals to the gardens and orchards of the town.
What a noble plain must this have been in the days of
Syria's prosperity! Teeming with an industrious popula-
tion; studded with towns and villages whose sites are now
marked by shapeless mounds. A rich soil, abundant water,
a genial clime; "all the gifts that heaven and earth im-
part are here. But they are all wasted. The land of
Hamath is desolate; the cities of Zobah are forsaken.
،،
""
THE ENTRANCE OF HAMATH."
Standing on the top of the ruined citadel, I saw on the
western side of the plain a great opening or pass through.
the mountains. On its southern side the ridge of Lebanon
rises abruptly to a height of ten thousand feet; and on its
northern, the lower ridge of Bargylus terminates in a bluff
promontory. Between the two lies the only opening from
316
NORTHERN BORDER LAND.
the land of Hamath to the coast of the Mediterranean.
This is unquestionably "the entrance of Hamath," men-
tioned repeatedly by the sacred writers as one of the land-
marks on the northern border. "This," said Moses, "shall
be your north border. From the great sea ye shall point
out for you Mount Hor. From Mount Hor ye shall point
out your border unto the entrance of Hamath
xxxiv. 7, 8).
(Num.
Afterwards, both went sailing along the Syrian coast, and
when standing on the plain of Phoenicia, I saw, with still
more distinctness, this remarkable pass. I saw then how
graphic was the description of Moses. He states that the
western border of the land was (6
the great sea." Then he
adds, "From the great sea (the Mediterranean) ye shall
point out for you Mount Hor." The Hebrew is Hor-ha-
har,
"the mountain of the mountain;" that is, emphatically,
"the great mountain." It was there before me-the majes-
tic northern peak of Lebanon, the loftiest mountain in Syria;
its glittering crown encircled by a halo of silvery clouds.
"From Mount Hor ye shall point out your border unto
the entrance of Hamath," that is, "the entrance" from the
great sea. There is but one, and it cannot be mistaken.
That pass between Lebanon and Bargylus is the only open-
ing from the coast into the land of Hamath. I have been
told that to this day it is called by the people of Tripoly
Bab Hamah, "the door of Hamath.”
From "the entrance" the border line was drawn north-
east toward the city of Hamath; then south-cast by Ziphron,
Zedad, and Hazar-enan (Num. xxxiv. 8, 9). Ziphron we
have already seen in the distance; and we shall now visit
the other two.
A NIGIIT MARCH TO ZEDAD.
During one of my visits to Emesa I met with a Jacobite
priest from the "desert village" of Sudud, the ancient Ze-
dad. I felt a deep interest in him and his flock. The Su-
317
dudîyeh are all members of the Jacobite Church, and con-
stitute the only remnant of that ancient sect in Syria. They
are poor and oppressed, but industrious and brave. In
their desert home they live in comparative comfort, notwith-
standing the tyranny of the Turks, the exactions of the Be-
dawîn, and what is sometimes more severely felt than either,
the unceasing enmity of the whole body of their fellow-
Christians. It is unfortunately the case that the various
Christian sects in Syria hate each other with a bitter hatred,
and often use their influence with Turkish rulers to oppress
and spoil their brethren. The Jacobites of Sudud had suf-
fered much in this way; and it had been my good fortune
to secure for them relief from cruel wrong. They were now
profuse in their expressions of gratitude. In the name of
his people the priest gave me a pressing invitation to Su-
dud, and I gladly accepted it.
THE JACOBITES OF SUDUD.
Zedad lies eight hours south-east of Emesa, across an
open, desolate plain. We left the city a little before sunset,
on a beautiful evening in autumn. The air was fresh and
balmy; but after five long months of cloudless sky and
burning sunshine, no wonder "the heaven seemed as brass
and the earth as iron." I found my friend the priest and
some ten or twelve of his people, mounted on mules and
donkeys, waiting for us outside the gate. I was struck with
the venerable and even noble appearance of the old man;
and I thought he might be regarded as no unworthy re-
presentative, so far at least as outward aspect was con-
cerned, of the Syrian episcopoi in primitive times. His eye
was bright, his cheek bronzed, and his flowing beard white
as the snow-drift. He wore a black, high-crowned, circular
cap; a close under garment of crimson satin, bound round
the waist by a girdle; and over all was thrown a long loose
robe of black serge. He rode a stout mule, whose well-
padded saddle and housings were ornamented with numer-
ous red and black tassels, cowries, and silver charms.
A ride of an hour and a half brought us to Meskineh, a
318
NORTHERN BORDER LAND.
little hamlet occupied by a colony from Sudud, and forming
one of the outposts of habitation on the plain of Emesa.
Here we halted to await the formation of the caravan and
the light of the moon. The road from Emesa to Sudud is
very dangerous during the autumn. The Anezeh and Be-
ni-Shemâl are then encamped around the fountains of Ku-
ryetein and Salemîyeh, away to the eastward; and their
horsemen scour the plain up to the very gates of the city,
stripping stray travellers, plundering caravans, and driving
off flocks and herds. The priest told me that they have
spies in Emesa, and mounted scouts along the leading roads,
who give due notice to the tribe of every favourable op-
portunity for plunder. The poor villagers suffer severely.
Their convoys of grain are closely watched, and not unfre-
quently the hard-earned gatherings of a whole year are
carried off in one raid.
"And does not the government protect you?" I asked.
"The government!" he exclaimed with surprise; "the
government does nothing but collect its taxes!"
How true was the picture which the old prophets drew of
Syria's future! "The spoilers are come upon all high places
through the wilderness: for the sword of the Lord shall de-
vour from the one end of the land even to the other end of
the land: no flesh shall have peace. They have sown wheat,
but shall reap thorns; they have put themselves to pain,
but shall not profit; and they shall be ashamed of your re-
venues, because of the fierce anger of the Lord" (Jer. xii.
12, 13). "They shall eat their bread with carefulness, and
drink their water with astonishment, that her land may be
desolate from all that is therein, because of the violence of
all them that dwell therein" (Ezek. xii. 19).
When the moon rose the order was given to march. The
caravan was much larger than I expected.
There were
about sixty Sududîyeh, all armed with guns, besides a do-
zen or two of traders from Emesa and Hamath; and the
animals-camels, mules, and donkeys-may probably have.
319
numbered two hundred. The priest, and the sheikh of Su-
dud who rode a good horse, took the lead, and asked me to
join them, after giving strict orders to all strangers, as they
valued their safety, not to leave the main body for a single
instant, and not to speak above a whisper.
On we sped. Our pace was somewhat slow, but steady.
Not a voice was heard, and the only sound the ear could
detect was the dull muffled tread of men and animals on the
dusty soil. The pale moon shed her silvery light on the
grey plain, half revealing, half concealing; and the long
compact body of men and animals, stealing noiselessly over
the bleak waste, had a strange spectral look that almost
alarmed one.
The country was at first perfectly flat; but after travel-
ling some hours it became more and more undulating, and
broken by wadys and dry torrent beds. Into one of these
we descended, and marched for a mile or more. I saw that
the sheikh was now all anxiety and watchfulness; and that
my reverend friend, who for a time had been nodding on
his careful mule, roused himself and addressed a few words
to the chief. I concluded that this was a dangerous part of
the road, and my thoughts were soon rather unpleasantly
realized.
A NIGHT MARCH IN THE DESERT.
The sheikh after the words of the priest trotted ahead,
and was soon out of sight. We went on as before; but, as
I thought, somewhat slower. The sheikh had not been ab-
sent more than fifteen minutes when he came back at a
canter, and, pushing on to the very centre of the caravan,
cried in a deep earnest whisper, "Hauwelu!" (halt). The
caravan stopped in a moment. So still and statue-like did
the whole become, that one could have imagined his voice
had turned them to stone. A moment more and I saw that
every gun was unslung, and that the leading men gathered.
round their chief. Galloping up to the group, I demanded
what was wrong. "Arabs," was the reply, and it was
enough to explain all.
320
NORTHERN BORDER LAND.
The sheikh, who was well mounted, unslung his rifle, ex-
amined the priming of his pistols, and told his people to re-
main steady and quiet while he went forward to reconnoi-
tre. I joined him. After riding a quarter of a mile or so
we came to a sharp turn in the valley, where it appeared to
open into an undulating plateau. Here we stopped, and my
companion, touching my arm, pointed to a rising ground in
the distance on the left, and said, "Shuf."
"Those are trees," I said; but that instant my horse,
with the true instinct of his race, pricked up his ears, raised
his head, and gave a low angry snort.
"They must be Arabs, and mounted," I now added.
"Your horse tells you that."
"Can we not get nearer them ?" I asked.
"No. If we advance a yard beyond this rock their sharp
eyes will detect us. The Arab has the eye of the eagle
when on a foray."
I had fortunately my double field glass slung at my side.
Taking it out and turning it on the party I saw them dis-
tinctly, and, greatly to the surprise of my companion, told
him their numbers and equipments in a moment.
"There are seven horsemen armed with spears. They
are advancing slowly this way in line.
"Are there only seven? Can you make out no more ?"
were the eager questions of my companion.
"None; not another man," I replied, as I examined them
closely again with the glass. "But stay-what is yon on
the crest of that rising ground away further to the right?
More Arabs, as I live! A large body-some on horseback,
some on dromedaries. I see their spears glittering in the
moonlight."
"What's their number ?" demanded the sheikh.
66
Forty at least; and each dromedary carries two. I see
their outline distinctly against the clear sky."
"It is a ghuzu of the Beni-Shemâl," said the sheikh, sadly
and bitterly. "God help my poor people; we are all lost !"
321
"May we not escape yet?" I replied. "See, the main
body is going southward, and must cross the valley at
least half a mile ahead. If your people keep quiet they
cannot be seen in the valley."
"True. But these-look at these," the sheikh said, point-
ing to the Arabs we had first seen, and who still continued
slowly to advance, "will not they discover us ?"
I turned my glass upon them, and then said: "They are
coming down straight upon us. Come in closer or they
will see you, for they are evidently keeping a sharp look.
out."
ADVENTURE WITH ARABS.
At the place where we stood a jagged limestone rock,
some eight or ten feet high, projected from the northern
bank. The side next to us was deeply excavated, and
formed a kind of natural cave. Round it the valley turned
at a sharp angle. We were thus completely hidden from
all in front, while about a hundred yards behind us was an-
other bluff, and a slight curve in the glen, serving in a great
measure to conceal the caravan even from us. The danger
that threatened, and the critical nature of our position, made
me examine minutely every feature of the glen. I now saw
that from the main body we had nothing to fear; and should
the others pass in front of the rock we had every chance to
escape their notice also; but should they come round it
nothing could save us.
"Go you back to your people," I said to my companion,
keep them close and perfectly still. I shall remain here to
watch the Arabs. If they pass this rock, or in any other
way discover the caravan, you may rely on me either to be
with you or give you due warning. Meantime, have your
men prepared: and should the worst come you have sixty
muskets."
66
He was off in an instant. I then dismounted, and drew
my
horse close in under the projecting ledge. Through a
rent I had command of the advancing party and the whole
plateau. The Arabs came straight towards me, Already
322
NORTHERN BORDER LAND.
I could hear their voices. They were splendidly mounted.
When about to descend into the glen they turned to the
left to avoid the steep bank and some broken ledges. "We
are safe!" I inwardly exclaimed. The nearest of them was
not more than twenty yards distant, and just as he reached
the bottom his horse suddenly started and neighed. My
horse was about to reply, when by a check of the bridle I
silenced him; and the wise creature seemed to know my
danger. The whole party halted. "What's here ?" they
cried, and they looked all round. The man next me wheeled
round and advanced. It was an anxious and a critical mo-
ment. The lives of many seemed now to hang upon a
thread. The Arab was on one side of the rock, and I on
the other. I saw the point of his long tufted spear a few
feet above me; but I could not see the man, as I dared not
raise my head. Should he move forward another yard, or
should my horse make the slightest motion, we were lost.
With my foot in the stirrup, and my hand on the horse's
neck, I stood like a statue, prepared, should he pass the
rock, to make a bold dash forward, which I knew would
drive him back to his companions. I can never forget that
moment of suspense. It was soon over. I heard a call
from his companions, then the ring of his horse's feet on the
stones in the dry torrent bed. I put up my head again, and
saw the whole party ascend the south bank, and in five
minutes they were out of sight. I mounted and followed
cautiously, and had the intense satisfaction of seeing them
and their friends ride off at a quickened pace away across
the desert.
After half an hour's halt the caravan again started, and
we reached Sudud just as the first dawn of morning ap-
peared in the east. So ended my night march. I have
described it here for a twofold purpose:-to serve as an il-
lustration of modern life on the borders of the Syrian de-
sert; and to show how true was the Bible picture of the
Ishmaclite, "IIis hand will be against every man;" and
ZEDAD AND HAZAR-ENAN.
323
how true the predictions of the disturbed state of Palestine,
"No flesh shall have peace."
ZEDAD.
Sudud is still a large village; though it does not contain a
single vestige of antiquity except a few fragments of col-
umns built up in the mud walls of the modern houses. It
is surrounded by gardens and cultivated fields, irrigated by
a stream from one of those strange subterranean aqueducts,
which one sees so frequently on the plain of Damascus.
The people are all Christians; and though their ecclesias
tical language is Syriac, they speak and understand Arabic
alone. The priests showed me some old Syriac manuscripts,
one or two of which were on vellum; but they were poorly
written, and of no literary value.
The name of Zedad has not been once mentioned in his-
tory since that time when Moses defined so minutely the
northern border of Palestine. How strange to find the city
still here, after an interval of more than three thousand
years, with its name little changed!
HAZAR-ENAN.
""
"The goings out of it (the border) shall be at Hazar-
enan. This Hazar-enan, or, as the word signifies, "Vil-
lage of Fountains," stood, therefore, at the north-west cor-
ner of the promised land; and consequently east or south-
east of Sudud. Three hours south-cast of Sudud is IIa-
warîn, a small village with some ancient ruins. The name
might possibly be a corruption of Hazar-enan; but there is
no fountain there, as I am told, for I did not visit it, and
this fact appears fatal to the identity.
In my way back from Palmyra to Damascus I arrived on
the evening of the second day at the large village of Kury-
etein, which stands in the centre of that long valley de-
scribed below as running westward from the desert city.
It is twenty-two hours march from Palmyra, about the
324
NORTHERN BORDER LAND.
same from Damascus, and six south-east from Sudud. Here
are copious fountains,-the only ones of any note in the
whole of that vast arid region. The Hebrew word Hazar-
enan signifies, as I have said, "Village of Fountains;" and
the Arabic word Kuryetein, "two villages." The ruins.
scattered among the lanes and gardens show that Kurye-
tein was once a place of importance; and the name, in con-
junction with the old massive church, enables us to identify
it with the Greek episcopal city of Koradea.
Ever since my visit I have been convinced that this is the
long-lost Hazar-enan mentioned by Moses as the north-east-
ern landmark of Israel (Num. xxxiv. 9); and by Ezekiel as
lying between the borders of Hamath and Damascus (xlvii.
17; xlviii. 1). If this be so, the northern border line is now
fully ascertained.
Ezekiel's border is so far identical with that of Moses, but
from this point it varies; Ezekiel includes the kingdom of
Damascus; Moses excludes it; and therefore Moses draws
his line westward from Hazar-enan to Riblah, and then
south through Cole-Syria to the Jordan. Shaphan, the
next point after Hazar, is unknown; but we must pay a
visit to Riblah.
RIBLAII.
My first visit to Riblah I have elsewhere described;* my
second dates some three years later.
Leaving Sudud with the dawn, accompanied only by my
two servants and a guide, I crossed the dreary plain to
Hasya (three hours). It was rather a hazardous ride, es-
pecially after the experience of the "night march." We
arrived in safety, however, greatly to the surprise of my
good friend the Aga of Hasya, who assured me the Beda-
wîn were keeping the whole country in commotion, and had
made the main road to Damascus impassable.
After two hours rest, and a substantial breakfast in the
"Five Years in Damascus " vol, il.
1
325
Aga's hospitable castle, I mounted again and set out for
Riblah. My route still lay in the plain; but the northern
slopes of Anti-Lebanon now rose up, bare and stern, close
upon my left. In an hour I passed through a gap which
intersects the ridge near its termination; and then another
hour's gallop brought me to Riblah.
Riblah retains its ancient name, though scarce a fragment
of the ancient city is visible. Its houses are poor and mean,
but the site is splendid. The Orontes flows past, a deep
lazy river; and a plain of unrivalled fertility stretches away
for miles on each side. Has my reader ever remarked the
accuracy of Biblical topography even in the minutest de-
tails? Moses speaks of "Riblah on the east side of Ain,”
or of "the fountain," as the Hebrew signifies. Ten miles
west of Riblah is the great fountain of the Orontes, which
I also visited, and which is to this day called by all the
people in the neighbourhood el-Ain, "the fountain.'
""
RUINS OF RIBLAH.
After the battle of Megiddo, fatal to good King Josiah,
Pharaoh-necho, continuing his march toward Assyria, en-
camped at Riblah, and here settled the succession in the
Jewish monarchy by putting Eliakim on the throne (2
Kings xxiii. 29–34). Here also, on this noble plain, Ne-
buchadnezzar appears to have remained in camp while his
general besieged and took Jerusalem. To this place the
Jewish monarch was brought a captive, and his eyes put
out immediately after witnessing the cruel murder of his
sons (2 Kings xxv. 1-7).
On the blood-stained site I sat, and read from my Bible
the few incidents of Riblah's history; and then looking upon
the wretched village, and out over the rich but desolate
plain, I could not but see that a curse was there, and I
could not but feel that it was deserved.
Other thoughts, sad and solemn, were also forced upon
The whole Land was
my mind by the scenes around me.
God's gift to his people. He gave it in covenant to Abra-
ham; he gave it in promise to Moses; he divided it in part
326
NORTHERN BORDER LAND.
to the tribes under Joshua; and he gave it in all its length
and breadth," from the river of Egypt even unto the
great river, the river Euphrates," to the nation under
David. But the people forgot the Lord's goodness, and
they rebelled against his authority, so that by their own.
deliberate acts they brought upon themselves and upon
their land the threatened curse. Now upon the northern
border, as before upon the eastern, the southern, and the
western, with my own eyes I witnessed the literal fulfilment
of the prophetic curse,-"I will bring the land into deso-
lation: and your enemies which dwell therein shall be as-
tonished at it. And I will scatter you among the heathen,
and will draw out a sword after you: and your land shall
be desolate, and your cities waste.
cities waste. Then shall the land en-
joy her sabbaths, as long as it lieth desolate, and ye be in
your enemies' land" (Lev. xxvi. 32-34).
III.
Palmyra.
"And Solomon built Tadmor in the wilderness."-2 CHRON. viii. 4.
"Yet I could weep-for thou art lying, alas!
Low in the dust; and we admire thee now
As we admire the beautiful in death.”
N the year 1691 a company of English merchants,
resident in Aleppo, heard strange reports of the
ruins of a magnificent city away in the centre of
the Syrian desert. The reports reached them
from various sources;-from Baghdad traders, who had
traversed the desert with their caravans from native pedlars
and armourers who followed the footsteps of the wandering
Bedawîn; from Arab sheikhs who ruled the tribes and led
the raids of the Anezeh and Beni Shemâl. One and all told
the story of the great city. Such palaces and temples, such
ranges of columns and heaps of ruins, such tombs and cas-
tles, such multitudes of inscriptions, and statues, and monu-
ments the world had never seen as were there, grouped
around the fountains, and scattered over the desolate plain
of Tadmor. The glowing descriptions were like a romance
from Antar or a tale from the Arabian Nights.
"The ground,
League beyond league, like one great cemetery
Is covered o'er with mouldering monuments:
And, let the living wander where they will,
They cannot leave the footsteps of the dead.”
Making every allowance for Oriental exaggeration, and the
1
328
NORTHERN BORDER LAND.
;
magic influence of Eastern fancy, the merchants thought
there must be some foundation of fact-enough, at least, to
repay the toil and expense of an expedition. It was a so-
rious matter in those days to penetrate the desert; it is a
work of some difficulty and danger even yet. But an ex-
pedition was organized; guides and guards were hired; the
pathless waste was traversed; and the adventurous travel-
lers were richly repaid by the discovery of the long lost
ruins of "Tadmor in the wilderness," the city founded by
Solomon and ruled by Zenobia. In a few months all Eu-
rope resounded with the story of their adventures, and the
glowing descriptions of the desert city.
For more than half a century the interesting narrative of
the Aleppo merchants was read with a kind of semi-scepti-
cism. The leading facts were not questioned. None went
so far as to doubt that the classic Palmyra had been dis-
covered; but it was generally thought that the descriptions
of the ruins were highly coloured, and that when other trav-
ellers would explore and describe them, uninfluenced by
the excitement of a great discovery, by those feelings of ro-
mance which sometimes encircle as a halo the minds of an-
tiquarian and geographical pioneers, the real, matter-of-fact,
character and state of the ancient city would become known.
In the year 1751 another celebrated expedition reached
Palmyra. It was well organized, fully equipped, and the
objects it aimed at were successfully accomplished. The
expedition was planned and carried out by men who, from
their great learning, classic tastes, and previous travels in
Italy, Greece, and Asia Minor, were in every respect quali-
fied satisfactorily to explore, delineate, and describe the
city. They were supplied with the best books and instru-
ments, and accompanied by an accomplished architect and
draughtsman. They spent two weeks surveying, measur-
ing, sketching, drawing plans, and copying inscriptions; and
they returned across the desert with full portfolios, and a
caravan of camels laden with marbles and works of art.
329
The splendid folio which they afterwards published* will
give such as have not visited the city the best idea of its
wonderful remains. This great work showed European
scholars that the narrative of the Aleppo merchants, instead.
of being exaggerated, fell short of the truth. In describing
the ruins of Palmyra it would be almost impossible to ex-
aggcrate. There is nothing like them in the world. The
sight of them from the adjoining hill top is like a dream of
fairy land. True, there are in Athens and other cities of
Grecce single buildings chaster in style, and more perfect
in execution, than any of which Palmyra can boast; there
are also in Egypt and Syria structures of more colossal mag-
nitude; but in no other spot in the world can we find such
vast numbers of temples, palaces, colonnades, tombs, and
monuments, grouped together so as to be seen at a single
glance. Here is the testimony of Wood and Dawkins, the
leaders of the expedition of which I have just spoken, given
after traversing the whole circuit of lands classic and sa-
cred:-"We had scarce passed these venerable monuments
when the hills opening discovered to us, all at once, the
greatest quantity of ruins we had ever seen, all of white
marble, and beyond them towards the Euphrates a flat waste
as far as the eye could reach, without any object which
showed either life or motion. It is scarce possible to imagine
anything more striking than this view; so great a number
of Corinthian pillars, mixed with so little wall or solid build-
ing, afforded a most romantic variety of prospect.”
It is greatly to be desired that some of our accomplished
and enterprising photographers would pay a visit to Palmy-
ra. The sketches and drawings of Wood and Dawkins are
beautiful and faithful; but however skilful the pencil of the
artist, however accurate the eye and the scale of the archi-
tect, in minuteness of detail and perfection of representa-
tion, neither the one nor the other can rival the sun picture.
Then the monuments of the desert city are so numerous,
* The Ruins of Palmyra, otherwise Tudmor in the Desert. London, 1753.
WONDERFUL RUINS.
330
NORTHERN BORDER LAND.
•
their grouping so peculiar, and now, alas! so confused, that
it is impossible to give a faithful delineation in sketch or
drawing. And, besides, the artist can never command suf-
ficient time and quiet for his work. He is dogged every-
where, as I can tell from sad experience, by prying and of-
ten persecuting Bedawîn, watching every opportunity pri-
vately to pilfer, or openly to plunder. In addition to the
great monuments, and the exquisitely sculptured ornaments
on portals, cornice, and pediment, there are those unique
Palmyrene and bilingual inscriptions, which the photogra-
pher alone can reproduce. A skilful manipulator, with a
good staff of assistants, would photograph all Palmyra in a
single week, and would bring back with him to the West a
series of pictures almost unrivalled for beauty, strangeness,
and historic and antiquarian interest.
TIIE ISHMAELITE.
My journey to Palmyra was somewhat adventurous. My
whole party consisted of an English friend, an Arak sheikh,
and a camel driver,-four men in all, mounted on three drom-
edaries. To attempt to go from Damascus to Tadmor,
through a hundred miles of desert infested by prowling ban-
dits, and overrun by hostile Bedawîn, with such an escort
may probably appear a little rash. And looking back upon
it now from the calm seclusion of my library, where the ex-
citement and romance of Eastern travel find no place, I am
inclined to think it was rash. It had these good effects,
however; it led me away from the ordinary and direct
route; it brought me into close contact with a number of
friendly tribes; it gave me large experience of genuine Arab
hospitality; and it afforded me, besides, some very palpable,
if not very pleasant, illustrations of the truth of the prophecy
pronounced of old on Ishmael and his posterity:-"He will
be a wild man; his hand will be against every man, and
every man's hand against him" (Gen. xvi. 12).
THE DESERT.
331
It was the fifth morning of our journey, and the sheikh
told us that by noon we should see the ruins of Tadmor.
For three whole days we had already marched through
the desert. Not, however, the desert of boyhood's fancy,-
a plain of drifting sand, blazing in the fierce sunbeams, and
bounded by the circle of the horizon. This desert had more
pleasing features. There were long ranges, and clustering
groups of mountains, presenting an agreeable variety of
form and outline, and occasionally also of colour, though the
general hue was that light grey, or yellowish white, so
characteristic of the limestone strata of Syria. Here and
there a bluff of dark red sandstone, or a dyke of black trap,
or a graceful cone of snow-white chalk, broke the uniformi-
ty. At one or two points I saw a singular combination of
colours in the same peak,-white, red, pink, and black,-re-
minding one of the gorgeous hues of the cliffs of Edom.
Between the mountains were long winding vales, and deep
rugged glens, now in early spring all spangled with the
bright red anemone, and poppy, and gay convolvulus, in-
termixed with a few, a very few, tufts of green grass and
green weeds. In all other respects it was a desert. Not a
single house or sign of settled habitation was there; not a
solitary patch of cultivated ground was anywhere to be
seen; not a drop of water in stream, fountain, well, or tank
did we ever meet with; not a tree or green shrub appeared
on the sides of those bare, desolate hills. This is just such
a region as the Old Testament writers would have called
Midbar (the name usually given to the peninsula of Sinai,
and the "wilderness of wandering "), a region devoid of cul-
tivation and settled inhabitant, but affording good pasture
for flocks and herds.
The desert was now all alive with the great tribe of the
Anezch who claim its pastures as their own. Every few
miles we came upon a little circlet of black tents pitched in
some retired vale, or near some secret well; and when we
saw the droves of camels covering the country for miles and
332
NORTHERN BORDER LAND.
miles, and the flocks of sheep and goats, we learned how the
flocks and herds of Israel were fed during their forty years
wandering in the midbar of Sinai.
Many strange and interesting traits of Arab life and law
came under our notice. Whenever our path led us near an
encampment, as was frequently the case, we always found
some active sheikh, or venerable patriarch, sitting "in his
tent door," and as soon as we were within hail, we heard the
earnest words of welcome and invitation, which the Old Tes-
tament Scriptures had rendered long ago familiar to us:
“Stay, my lord, stay. Pass not on till thou hast eaten
bread, and rested under thy servant's tent. Alight and re-
main until thy servant kills a kid and prepares a feast."
Again and again were these invitations given and urged in
such a way that we found it impossible to resist them. In
fact, our progress was seriously delayed by this truly patri-
archal hospitality; and more than once or twice we were
witnesses of the almost inconceivable rapidity with which
the kid was killed, prepared, and served up with "butter
and milk," after the manner of Abraham's feast at Mamre,
(Gen. xviii.)
Another trait of desert life we also noticed. On several
occasions we suddenly and unexpectedly found ourselves
close to a solitary tent or small encampment, whose occu-
pants were unknown to our leader, and suspected to be ene-
inies of his tribe. We were then told to muffle up our faces,
drive our dromedaries quickly up to the tent door and dis-
mount. We were thus safe. Arab law made the master
of the tent responsible for our lives and our entertainment.
On such occasions not a word was spoken till we were seat-
ed within the tent, and not a question was ever asked dur-
ing the whole time we remained as to who we were, whence
we had come, or whither we were going. A similar trait of
the Scottish Highlanders is beautifully illustrated by Scott
in the "Lady of the Lake,"
"Mect welcome to her guest she made,
And every courteous rite was paid,
MARCH THROUGH THE DESERT.
That hospitality could claim,
Though all unasked his birth and name.
Such then the reverence to a guest,
That fellest foe might join the feast,
And from his deadliest foeman's door
Unquestioned turn, the banquet o'er."
333
It was doubtless such hospitality that Job boasted of
when he said: "The stranger did not lodge in the street; I
opened my doors to the traveller" (xxxi. 32).
It was, as I said, the fifth morning of our journey. We
were up before the dawn, and the first grey streak of the
new day was just visible along the eastern horizon as we
mounted our dromedaries and rode off. The camp where
we had spent the night lay in a broad valley, shut in on the
north and south by steep ranges of naked limestone, but
opening on the east, at the distance of a few miles, to a
boundless plain. Our leader went straight to the northern
ridge. Up it we scrambled by a track so steep, so rugged,
and in places so narrow, that I often feared the dromedaries
would topple over and dash us to pieces on the rocks far
below. From the summit we had a commanding view. In
front a broad plain, bare and grey, bounded on the north by
a line of rocky mountains almost perfectly white. Behind
us another plain, green with the grass of spring, and thickly
studded with the black tents of Bedawîn.
We now turned eastward and descended diagonally into
a plain so barren and desolate that we had never seen any-
thing like it before. Its whole surface was covered with
small fragments of white limestone, mixed with pieces of
dark coloured flint. The sky was still, as it had been for
three days, without a cloud; and the sunbeams fell on that
parched desert like streams of liquid fire. The skin of our
faces and lips shrivelled and cracked with the heat, our eyes
could with difficulty endure the intense glare, and like Jacob
"the drought consumed us," for the water was exhausted in
our bottles. On we pressed with sweeping step and ship-
like motion, in perfect silence, our very dromedaries appear-
334
NORTHERN BORDER LAND.
I
ing to feel that this was a region to be traversed with all
possible despatch.
Suddenly, on emerging from a little glen, a scene of rare
beauty burst upon our view, taking us completely by sur-
prise. A lake appeared in front, its margin fringed with
shrubs and tall reeds; here and there an islet varied its sur-
face, covered with dwarf palms, whose graceful feathery
branches bent down to the glassy waters. Away along its
further shore sped a solitary Arab on a dromedary,-now
marching double, the man and the shadow; now raising the
glittering spray as the animal's fcet dipped lightly in the
margin of the lake. It was a fairy scene, looking all the
more enchanting from contrast with the utter barrenness of
the surrounding plain.
Again we dipped into a glen that crossed our path. We
pressed up the further side; we looked all round. The lake
was gone. It was the mirage. The solitary Arab on his
fleet dromedary swept past us; and so great was our sur
prise that we were prepared to see him vanish too.
Swiftly and cautiously the sheikh led us along the base of
the mountains which rose up far overhead, here in long,
gravelly slopes, and there in frowning precipices capped by
great masses of projecting rock, which seemed as if an in-
fant's touch would hurl them down upon our heads. We
surmounted a rocky spur and the sheikh paused. "Look,"
he exclaimed, pointing to a narrow opening in the low line
of hills which crossed the plain in front. We saw a castle
crowning a conical peak; we saw tall slender towers on the
slopes, and in the bottom of the pass below. "That is Tad-
mor. Yallah!"
But the next moment two wild Arab horsemen reined up
their panting steeds within pistol shot. They spoke not a
word. They gave not a sign. One of them, after taking a
rapid glance at our party, wheeled his horse and went off at
full gallop across the plain. The other remained, motionless
as a statue, leaning upon his long lance. Our chief was si-
TAKEN PRISONER.
335
lent. He seemed almost paralyzed. His dromedary wan-
dered about at will cropping the dry weeds. Something
was wrong, we knew not well what. We were not left long
in suspense. A cloud of dust appeared approaching us
across the plain. It opened, and we saw a troop of some
forty or fifty horsemen charging us at full speed. The next
moment a score of glittering lances were brandished fiercely
round our heads. Resistance would have been worse than
useless. We were prisoners.
We were led off across the plain for some two miles, and
we then met the whole tribe of our captors on the march.
It was a strangely interesting sight. Far as the eye could
sce the plain was covered with countless droves of camels,
and flocks of sheep, and horsemen, and dromedaries laden
with tents, and all manner of furniture and utensils. The
sheikh, who happened to have my animal by the halter,
stuck his spear in the ground and dismounted. It was the
signal for encamping. In a moment the tents were on the
ground, and hundreds of women wielding the heavy mallets
with which they drive in the large iron tent-pins. This is
always their work, and they do it with singular dexterity.
Looking at them, I could not but remember Jael. "She
put her hand to the tent-pin (the Hebrew word translated
'nail' is the very same as the Arabic name for 'tent-pin ');
her right hand to the hammer of the workers; she ham-
mered Sisera, and smote his head; she beat and pierced his
temples" (Judges v. 26).
We had other illustrations of the same tragic story when
the tents were pitched. We were thirsty and they brought
us milk fresh from the camel. Then they set before us a
huge metal dish of leben (“sour curds"). "Blessed above
women shall Jael the wife of Heber the Kenite be; blessed
shall she be above women in the tent. Water he asked,
milk she gave him. In a lordly dish she set curds before
him." (ver. 25.)
15
336
NORTHERN BORDER LAND.
66 TADMOR IN TIIE WILDERNESS.
At first our prospects in our desert prison looked gloomy
enough. A large ransom was demanded. Uncomfortable.
threats were thrown out when we curtly refused it. Grad-
ually, however, our hopes brightened, and by noon the next
day all was so satisfactorily arranged that our captors es-
corted us in grand style to Tadmor.
The first view of that classic city was strange and impres-
sive far beyond all our anticipations. We reached the pass
through the low castern ridge; we began the ascent of a
rising ground that forms the crown of the pass. So far we
saw nothing except the old castle overhead on the left, and
a few tower-like tombs on the hill sides. The crest was
gained at last, and then the whole site of the city burst
upon our view.
Immediately before us lay a white plain, some three or
four miles in circuit, entirely covered, and in many places
heaped up with ruins. Through the centre ran a Corinthian
colonnade. Away beyond it, on the cast, rose the great
temple of the sun, itself almost a city for magnitude. To
the right and left, in endless variety, were scattered groups
of columns, and single monumental pillars; while every-
where the ground was thickly strewn with broken shafts,
and great shapeless piles of ruins, all white and glistening in
the bright sunlight. Such a sight no eye ever saw else-
where:
K
46
-Temples, palaces, a wondrous dream,
That passes not away; for many a league,
Illumine yet the desert."
All too was desolate. Like bleached bones on a long neg-
lected battle-field those ruins lie, lonely and forsaken.
On the southern side of the city a tiny stream flows from
a chasm in the mountain side, and winds eastward fringed
with grass and tender foliage, until it ends in a circlet of
gardens, the brilliant verdure of whose orchards and palm-
groves contrasts beautifully with the intense whiteness of
337
the ruins and of the boundless plain beyond. Palmyra was
a double oasis in the desert—an oasis of nature and of art;
of physical richness, and of architectural splendour.
RUINS OF PALMYRA.
THE TEMPLE OF THE SUN.
This is the finest building in Palmyra, and for extent and
beauty it is scarcely surpassed in the world. A court, two
hundred and fifty yards square, was encompassed by a wall
seventy fect high, richly ornamented externally with pilas-
ters, fricze, and cornice. The entrance was through a por-
tico of ten columns. Round the whole interior ran a double
colonnade, forming "porches" or cloisters like those of the
temple at Jerusalem. Each pillar in the cloisters had a pe-
destal, or bracket, for a statue. Near, but not in the centre
of the court, is the naos, or temple itself-in this respect
also resembling Herod's temple. It was encircled by a sin-
gle row of fluted Corinthian columns, with bronze capitals,
supporting an unbroken entablature richly ornamented with
festoons of fruit and flowers, held up at intervals by winged
genii. The effect of the whole-the white pillars, the bronze
capitals, the sculptured cornice, the noble cloisters, the long
ranges of statues-must have been grand. We have scarce-
ly any building now that will bear comparison with it.
The encircling wall is still tolerably perfect, and the naos
is nearly complete. Above a hundred of the pillars in the
cloisters remain standing; but the greater part of the inte-
rior is encumbered with the miserable hovels of the modern
inhabitants, who have all clustered together here for safety.
THE GRAND COLONNADE.
Next to the Temple of the Sun the Colonnade is the most
remarkable object in Palmyra. Commencing on the cast at
a splendid triumphal arch, it runs through the centre of the
city, and is nearly a mile in length. There were originally
four rows of columns, about sixty feet high, forming a cen-
tral and two side avenues. When complete, it must have
A
338
NORTHERN BORDER LAND.
་
contained above fifteen hundred columns, more than one
hundred and fifty of which still stand. Each column has on
its inner side about eight feet above its base, a bracket for
a statue. One remarkable feature of the Colonnade is, that
it is bent slightly in the middle; and on looking along it
one sees how much this adds to its effect. What a noble
promenade for the old Palmyrenes! sheltered from the sun's
fierce rays; open to every gentle breeze; statues of their
country's nobles and patriots, poets and philosophers, ranged
in long lines beside them; and the background filled in with
gorgeous façades of temples and palaces, tombs and monu-
ments! Broken and shattered though it is, with hundreds
of its polished shafts prostrate, and long ranges of its sculp-
tured cornice lying amidst dust and rubbish, the Colonnade
of Tadmor forms one of the most imposing pictures in the
world. I was never tired looking at it. I saw some new
and striking feature from every point of view.
It is a curious fact that every great city of the East had a
via recta-“a Straight street," or "High street "-some-
what similar in plan and ornament to that at Palmyra.
Traces of the streets and colonnades may still be seen at
Gerasa, Samaria, Bozrah, and Apamea; and after a little in-
vestigation I discovered that "the street called Straight" in
Damascus (Acts ix. 11) was of the same kind.
THE TOMBS.
#
The Palmyrenes, like all other Eastern nations, gave spe-
cial honour to the memory of the dead. Among the most
beautiful and remarkable of the monuments are sepulchres.
Some of those within the city were of great size, and appear
to have been intended for temples as well as tombs. Rock
sepulchres, so common throughout Syria, Edom, and Egypt,
are here unknown; and their place is taken by tower-shaped
structures which seem to be peculiar to Palmyra. They
One sees them in the plain all round
are very numerous.
the city, on both sides of the pass which leads to it from the
TOMBS OF PALMYRA.
339
west, and a few are perched on the tops of neighbouring
peaks. The plan of all is the same, though they vary great-
ly in the style and richness of the internal ornaments. They
are square, measuring from twenty to thirty feet on each
side, generally four stories in height. Each story consists of
a single chamber constructed with tiers of deep loculi, or
recesses, on cach side, reaching from floor to ceiling. It was
usual to place busts of the dead, with names and dates,
either at the openings of the loculi, or on the walls or ceil-
ings. The decorations of some of these mansions of the
dead are exceedingly rich and chaste. The tiers of recesses
are separated by slender pillars of marble, and the walls and
ceilings pannelled and ornamented with festoons of fruit and
flowers, and finely executed busts. Inscriptions are numer-
ous, and almost all in the Palmyrene character. The effect
of the decorations is greatly heightened by chaste colour-
ing. The ground is generally a delicate blue, which throws
out in bolder relief the pure white masses of sculpture.
The inscriptions on these tombs show that they were almost
all erected during the first three centuries of our era.
In addition to the tower-tombs there are in the plain to
the north and south of the city immense numbers of subter-
ranean sepulchres. They are not hewn in the rock, but ap-
pear to have been built in natural or artificial cavities, and
then covered over with soil. Those which have been
opened were found to contain loculi, busts, statues, and in-
scriptions like the other sepulchres. Numbers of them still
remain unexplored, and may one day afford rich treasures
to the antiquary. The mode of sepulture appears to have
been always as follows:-The body was embalmed, wrapped
tightly up in linen, and placed in a recess, the door of which
was then closed and hermetically sealed.
The walls of Palmyra are now in ruins. In some places
it is with difficulty one can even trace their foundations.
Not a building within the city remains standing. A strong
castle, situated on the summit of a steep conical peak, a
340
NORTHERN BORDER LAND.
short distance from the city, is also in ruins. On a calm
bright evening during my stay, I clambered up the hill,
scaled the shattered battlements, and took my seat on the
top of its highest tower. I can never forget that view. It
is photographed on my memory in all its vast extent, in all
its wild grandeur, in all its strange and terrible desolation.
Westward my eye roamed far away, through the long vis-
ta of a bare white valley, to where the sun's last rays gilt
the snow-capped summits of Lebanon. On the north and
south were mountain ranges which, though naked and bar-
ren, now exhibited a richness and delicacy of colouring
never seen in the west. It was not that of green turf, nor
of brown heath, nor of mottled and variegated foliage, nor
of transparent blue tinted by the air of heaven. It was dif-
ferent from all these. The highest peaks and crags were
tipped as with burnished gold. Beneath was a clear silvery-
gray, which was shaded gradually into a deep rich purple
in the glens and valleys. These soft and strange tints gave
the mountains a dreamy, ethereal look, such as one sees on
some of the wondrous pictures of Turner. . . . . On the east
a glowing horizon swept round a semicircle of unbroken,
snow-white plain. At my feet, in the centre of all, lay the
ruins of the desert city, magnificent even in their utter deso-
lation.
HISTORY.
Solomon "built Tadmor in the wilderness" (1 Kings ix.
18; 2 Chron. viii. 4). The question has been frequently
asked, Why did Solomon build a city in the midst of the
desert, so far distant from his own kingdom? The answer
is easy to any one who knows the history of the period and
the geography of Bible lands. Solomon was a commercial
monarch. One of his great aims was to inake Palestine the
centre of commercial enterprise. To secure a safe and easy
route for the caravans that imported the treasures of India,
Persia, and Mesopotamia, was of the first importance. Tad-
ORIGIN AND HISTORY OF PALMYRA.
341
mor lies half way between the Euphrates and the borders
of Syria. It contains the only copious fountain in that arid
desert. Some halting-place was necessary. Water was ab-
solutely necessary. Consequently, Palmyra was founded as
a caravan station.
For a thousand years we hear no more of it. Then Pliny
describes it as a large and powerful independent city. In
the second century of our cera it fell under the dominion of
Rome, and to that age may be attributed most of its splen-
did monuments. When the Emperor Valerian was con-
quered and captured by the Persians, his unworthy son left
him in the hands of the conquerors; but Odeinathus, a citi-
zen of Palmyra, marched against them, defeated them, and
took the whole province of Mesopotamia. The services thus
rendered to Rome were considered so great that Odeinathus
was associated in the empire with Gallienus. This brave
man was poisoned at Emesa; but he bequeathed his power
to a worthy successor-ZENOBIA, his widow. The names
of Palmyra and Zenobia can never be dissociated. Unfor-
tunately, ambition prompted her to usurp the high sounding
title, "Queen of the East.” But Rome could brook no rival.
Her army was defeated, her desert city laid in ashes, and
she herself led in fetters, to grace the victor's triumph.
Poor Zenobia! she deserved a better fate. If common hu-
manity could not prevent Roman citizens from thus exult-
ing over a fallen foe, the memory of her husband's services
might have saved her from the indignity of appearing be-
fore a mob in chains.
The period of Palmyra's glory was now past, and we
have scarcely a notice in history of its decline and fall. At
the present moment about fifty wretched hovels, built
within the court of the Temple of the Sun, form the only
representatives of the great city of Zenobia, and of "Tad-
mor in the wilderness.”
Date
IV.
Damascus.
"This region, surely, is not of the earth,-
Was it not dropped from heaven?"
D
AMASCUS is the oldest city in the world; and it
is the only city which can claim the title "peren-
nial." Its origin is lost in the mists of antiquity;
and during the whole historic age it has been a
great city. Josephus says it was founded by Uz the son of
Aram and grandson of Shem. This is probably true; for it
was long the capital of the western division of that country
which Aram colonized, and to which he gave his name. It
is unfortunate that this fact does not appear in the English
version of the Bible, because the Hebrew name Aram is
there rendered "Syria."
But by whomsoever founded, one thing is certain regard-
ing Damascus. When Abraham crossed the desert from
Haran three thousand eight hundred years ago, the city
was already standing on the banks of the Abana; and from
that day till this it has held a first place among the capi-
tals of Western Asia. It has seen many changes. It has
passed through many hands. It has been ruled by many
masters. Syrians, Persians, Greeks, Romans, Arabs, and
Turks, have in turn governed or oppressed it; but it has
lived and flourished under them all. Of the horrors of war
it has had its full share. Not less than twelve times it had
been pillaged and burned; yet it has always arisen with new
beauty from its ashes.
HISTORY OF DAMASCUS
343
THE KINGDOM OF DAMASCUS.
Damascus was the head of a kingdom which exercised
considerable influence on the destinies of the Jews, and oc-
cupied a prominent place in Old Testament history. The
kingdom embraced a chain of Anti-Lebanon, and extended
on the north to Hamath, and on the south to Bashan. Though
it lay within the "Land of Promise," it is not mentioned in
the early history of the Jews. True, Abraham's steward
was a Damascene; and if we can depend upon a very an-
cient local tradition, the great patriarch himself resided for
a time in the city. When the Israelites entered Palestine,
Hermon was their northern border. Neither their wishes
nor their abilities stretched beyond that noble mountain.
They found ample room in the hills and valleys of the south,
and ample occupation in expelling the warlike Canaanites
who dwelt there.
It was when David, firmly established on his throne, ex-
tended his conquests to the Euphrates, endeavouring to make
the "Land of Possession" coterminous with the "Land of
Promise" (compare 2 Sam. viii. 3-9; Gen. xv. 18-21),-
it was then Damascus and Israel became rivals. For three
centuries and more that rivalry continued, often entailing
sad calamities on both. But this melancholy history is
chequered with some romantic episodes which make the
Bible reader feel a kind of home interest in the old city.
BIBLE STORIES.
First we have the grand expedition of Benhadad, when
with two-and-thirty vassal monarchs he invaded Israel, and
sat down before Samaria. His insulting demand is well
known (1 Kings xx. 5, 6); and his awful threat when it was
refused almost makes one shudder,—“The gods do so to me,
and more also, if the dust of Samaria shall suffice for hand-
fuls for all the people that follow me" (ver. 10). It was an
idle boast; for while the haughty Damascene was drink.
ing himself drunk in the pavilions, he and the kings," a
66
344
NORTHERN BORDER LAND.
handful of Jewish warriors surprised the camp and put the
whole host to flight (ver. 20).
It is a singular fact, showing the permanence of names in
the East, that one of the principal families in Damascus, at
the present moment, is called Beit Haddad, "The house of
Hadad."
Next we have the story of Naaman. Naaman was com-
mander-in-chief of the armies of Damascus, he was one of
the greatest generals, and greatest men of his age; but "he
was a leper." In some warlike expedition he had captured
a little Jewish maid, who became a slave in his harim.
Captivity cannot extinguish feelings of compassion in wo-
man's heart. Seeing her master's sufferings the maid one.
day exclaimed, "Would God my lord were with the pro-
phet that is in Samaria! for he would recover him of his
leprosy." To Samaria Naaman went. Elisha did not con-
descend to see him; but sent him word to go and wash in
the Jordan. The proud Damascene was indignant: "Be-
hold, I thought, He will surely come out to me, and stand,
and call on the name of the Lord his God, and strike his
hand over the place, and recover the leper. Are not Abana
and Pharpar, rivers of Damascus, better than all the waters.
of Israel? may I not wash in them and be clean? So he
turned and went away in a rage." The whole scene was
thoroughly Oriental. The servants now interfere. Better
counsels prevail; and Naaman washed and was cleansed
(2 Kings v.)
The memory of Naaman clings to Damascus yet. Out-
side the walls, on the banks of the Abana, is a leper hospi-
tal, which, tradition says, occupies the site of Naaman's.
house. I have often visited it, and when looking on its
miserable inmates, all disfigured and mutilated by their
loathsome disease, I could not wonder that the heart of the
little Jewish captive was moved by her master's sufferings.
Then follows the miraculous deliverance of Israel from the
king of Damascus by Elisha. Having learned that Elisha
BIBLE STORIES.
315
was the cause of all his failures, the king resolved to seize
him. Accordingly, on a certain night, he surrounded the
village of Dothan, in which the prophet dwelt, with horse-
men and chariots. In the morning Elisha's servants came
trembling and crying, "Alas, my master! how shall we
do?" "Fear not," said the man of God; "they that be
with us are more than they that be with them." Then he
prayed, "Lord, open his eyes." "And the Lord opened
the eyes of the young man; and he saw; and, behold, the
mountain was full of horses and chariots of fire round
about Elisha" (2 Kings vi. 13-17). The result is well
known. We can imagine the surprise and terror of the sol-
diers of Damascus. when they found themselves alone and
helpless in the stronghold of their enemy.
What a glorious type of saving power is here! As it
was with Elisha, so it ever is with God's suffering children.
The hosts of heaven encompass them. Were their eyes only
opened by Divine agency, they might see, as Elisha saw,
the flaming chariots and magnificent array of God's armies
marshalled round them. The prophet's vision illustrate the
apostle's words regarding the angels-"Are they not all
ministering spirits, sent forth to minister for them who shall
be heirs of salvation" (IIcb. i. 14).
The memorable interview between Elisha and Hazael fol-
lows next. Elijah had been commissioned to anoint Ha-
zacl; but we have no record of the act.
His successor,
Elisha, was now upon a visit to the city. Benhadad, the
king, was sick, and sent Hazael to ask the prophet whether
he would recover. Elisha read the thoughts that lurked in
the traitor's heart, and drew such a picture of his future ca-
reer that Hazael cried in indignation and horror, "Is thy
servant a dog, that he should do this thing?" Yet the
first act in that long and bloody drama he perpetrated that
very night. Returning to the city, Hazael murdered his
master and mounted the throne. Thus terminated the royal
line of Benhadad.
346
NORTHERN BORDER LAND.
The Jews of Damascus have a synagogue over the spot
where, according to tradition, Elijah once lived, and where
Elisha and Hazael met. It is two miles from the city, in a
village called Jobar. It is worthy of note that the village
is inhabited by Mohammedans, and that the Jews have not,
and, so far as is known, never had house or land there ex-
cept the synagogue.
There must be some truth in the tra-
dition, otherwise the Jews could scarcely have acquired an
interest in a remote spot in a country which their forefa-
thers never possessed. I have often ridden out to Jobar. It
is a sweet, quiet ride. The winding lanes are shaded by
the spreading boughs of magnificent walnuts, and lined with
blooming orchards.
"IIere the vines
Wed each her elm, and o'er the golden grain
Hang their luxuriant clusters, chequering
The sunshine."
Here and there the deep, swift Abana shoots out from a
thicket of weeping willows, and dashes in snowy sheets of
foam over an old weir. Canals cress and recross the path,
fringed with tall reeds and long sedgy grass, and spanned
by rustic bridges that rock and creak beneath the horses'
feet. Jobar is a favourite resort of wealthy Jews, male and
female. It is their park and their café. There they spend
their long summer afternoons, often the entire night under
bowers of vine and jasmine. Not unfrequently the groves
resound with mirth, and revelry, and song. Strange mode
this in which to celebrate the memory and honour the
shrines of Israel's great prophets!
The enmity of Damascus to the kingdom of Judah brought
about its own destruction. The Jews, unable to contend
with so powerful a foc, bought the alliance of Assyria.
Damascus was attacked and captured, its people were car-
ried away to the banks of the Kir, and an Assyrian colony
placed in their room. Damascus thus lost, and lost for
ever, its independence. Then "the kingdom was taken

QUA
TRADITIONAL SCENE OF PAUL ESCAPE.
nr.2
ME
STORY OF PAUL'S CONVERSION.
347
away from Damascus," "Damascus was taken away from
being a city" (Isaiah xvii. 1–3).
PAUL'S CONVERSION.
Eight centuries pass-cight centuries of wars and revolu-
tions. Damascus has become a Roman city. But it is
temporarily held by a rebel prince, Aretas, king of Arabia.
It is a time of national disturbance, for the empire has been
suddenly left without a head. It is a time, too, of grave
anxiety and fear among the members of the little Christian
Church in the city. Saul of Tarsus, having dipped his
hands in the blood of the first Christian martyr, and having
well-nigh extinguished the Church in the Holy City, is on
his way to Damascus, "breathing threatenings and slaugh-
tér against the disciples of the Lord" (Acts ix. 1). But
Jesus whom he persecuted met him on the way, and when
he enters the city he is no longer the proud, ruthless perse-
cutor; he is the humble, blind, conscience-stricken disciple,
breathing the prayer, "Lord, what wouldest thou have me
to do ?"
This miracle of mercy and of power made Damascus
"holy ground." It exalted it to an honoured place by the
side of Bethlehem and Nazareth, Jerusalem and Hermon.
The Son of God was there, if not in the flesh, in glory and
in power, appearing to Paul as unto "one born out of due
time" (1 Cor. xv. 8). In Damascus the great missionary of
the Gentiles first preached the gospel (Acts ix. 19, 20).
There he first experienced the bitterness of the persecution.
he had himself been instrumental in kindling. He became
the object of special hatred to his infatuated countrymen.
His labours in the city roused the indignation of the Jews,
and the success of his evangelistic work in Arabia, Aretas'
hereditary kingdom, excited the suspicions and fears of the
rulers, so that "the governor under Aretas the king kept
the city of the Damascenes with a garrison, desirous to ap-
prehend me; and through a window, in a basket, was I let
348
NORTHERN BORDER LAND.
down by the wall, and escaped his hands" (2 Cor. xi. 32,
33).
Tradition has localized every event in Paul's story,-the
scene of the conversion, the "street called Straight," the
house of Judas, the spot where the angel appeared to Ana-
nias, the window in the city wall,-all are pointed out.
Time after time I have visited them. Most of them may be
apocryphal, some of them are unquestionably so; but in this
"city of the infidels," they have all an intense interest for
the Christian. They rouse him to a sense of the reality of
great events, and of the power of great principles and
truths, which he is only too apt to forget. The Straight
Street is real. There can be no doubt about it. And on
the old wall I have seen many a projecting chainber, and
many a latticed window from which a friendly hand could
"let down" a fugitive.
ASI
ASPECT OF THE CITY.
How beautiful for situation is Damascus! Its own poets
have called it "The pearl of the East." The view of the
city and plain from the brow of Lebanon is unequalled in
Syria, ― probably it is unsurpassed in the world. One
gazes upon it enraptured when before him; and when far
away, though long years have intervened, memory dwells
upon it as upon some bright and joyous vision of childhood's
happy days. Forty centuries have passed over the city,
yet it retains the freshness of youth. Its palaces look as
gorgeous, its houses as gay, its gold-tipped minarets and
domes as bright as if only completed yesterday. Its gar-
dens and orchards and far-reaching groves, rich in foliage.
and blossoms, wrap the city round like a mantle of green
velvet powdered with pearls. Its rivers, better yet than
all the waters of Israel, having burst their mountain bar-
riers, send a thousand streams meandering over its plain,
sparkling in the sunlight, and spreading verdure and beau-
ty along their course.
THE STREET SCENES OF DAMASCUS.
349
The city looks so peaceful there, reposing in its evergreen
bower, far removed from the din of commerce, and the rude
whirl of modern life, and the jarring turmoil of the world's
politics, that one would think it had never felt the shock of
war, that its soil had never been polluted by crime, and that
Abana and Pharpar had never run red with the blood of
thousands slaughtered mercilessly.
Distance lends enchantment to the view. To me Damas-
cus looked like a vision of Paradise when I first saw it,―all
peace and beauty. The vision has been rudely dissipated,-
it vanished the moment I crossed the city gate. Without,
nature smiled joyously, the landscape was bathed in the
ruddy light of the declining sun; the apricot orchards
seemed to blush at their own surpassing loveliness, and the
gentle breezes that rustled, softly through the feathery tops.
of the palms were laden with the perfume of the rose and
the violet. Within, how great, how painful was the con-
trast! Houses, mosques, streets, all the works of man, in
fact, bore the marks of neglect and decay; and man himself
seemed to sit there mourning moodily over waning glory.
The houses are shapeless piles of sun-dried bricks and wood,
and sadly out of repair; the streets are narrow, crooked and
filthy, paved with big rough stones, and half covered with
ragged mats and withered branches. Scores of miserable
dogs lie in the dust, too lazy to bark, or even to crawl from
under the horse's feet. In little stalls like shelves, along the
sides of these lanes, squat ranges of long-bearded, white-
turbaned, sallow-visaged men, telling their beads, and ming-
ling with muttered prayers to Allah curses deep and deadly
on the infidels who dare to cross their path or enter their
holy city. But the oddest sight the stranger's eye falls on
are the women. He can scarcely tell at first what they are.
Not a feature, not a member is visible, except the two feet,
encased in quaint-looking yellow boots. Head, arms, hands,
body-the whole person, in short, is wrapt up in a thing
like a winding-sheet. Thus arrayed they stalk about like
S
350
NORTHERN BORDER LAND.
ghosts come back from another world to torment those who
doomed them on earth to lives of slavery.
In the centre of the city the houses are better, and the ba-
zaars richer. The people that crowd them, too, are better
dressed, and their costumes more varied. In fact, nearly
all the costumes of the world are there, and one is never
tired looking and laughing at them.
Damascus has been often described. Nearly every nook
and corner has been explored, and its wonders laid before
Europe by the pen, the pencil, or the photograph. Every-
body now knows all about the internal splendour of its pal-
aces, and the fabled beauty of their inmates. I shall not
here add a word to what has been written on these sub-
jects. I have another tale to tell-a sad tale, but one
which illustrates the character of the people who now rule
this unhappy land; and which shows how vividly its future
doom was pictured before the eyes of God's prophets, in an-
cient days. The recent massacres are but fulfilments of
Ezekiel's predictions: "I will bring the worst of the heathen,
and they shall possess their houses. . . . . Destruction com-
eth; and they shall seek peace, and there shall be none.'
(vii. 24, 25).
""
THE MASSACRE OF 1860.
A sad change has taken place in Damascus even since I
was there. A whole quarter of the city has been burned,
and nearly six thousand of its inhabitants butchered. This
terrible tragedy, unparalleled since the days of Tamerlane,
demands a passing notice; and its authors and abettors de-
serve to be held up to the execration of generations to come.
The Christians of the city have been all but annihilated; and
for no other reason than that they were Christians. Their
bones lie unburied amid the ashes of their homes; and their
blood, which has sunk into the ground, cries, if not for ven-
geance, at least for justice, upon that race of tyrant fanatics,
who terminated ages of unceasing persecution by a whole-
sale massacre.
·
THE MASSACRE OF DAMASCUS.
351
On the morning of Monday, July 9th, 1860, Damascus.
contained some twenty-three thousand Christians, including
seven thousand refugees from Lebanon. The Christians oc-
cupied a distinct quarter of the city, near the East Gate,
and extending on both sides of the Straight Street. In in-
telligence and enterprise they were far in advance of the
Mohammedans. They were peaceable and respectful in de-
meanour. Most of them, imbued with hereditary fear,
cringed before the proud Muslems who had so long ruled
them. They had taken no part in the struggle between.
Druse and Maronite. They were in no way connected with
the mountain tribes. There was not a single Druse in the
city; and the Christians had no quarrel with their Muslem
fellow-citizens.
For a week or two previous threats had been uttered; and
the Christians, unarmed and helpless, began to anticipate.
evil. For several days they had shut themselves up in
their houses, hoping thus to escape insult and injury. It
was in vain. About two o'clock on the day referred to, an
excited mob was seen by a resident Englishman proceeding
toward the Christian quarter, shouting their well-known
war-cry, Ullahu Akbar! He guessed their purpose, and he
tried to stop them. He was known widely, and respected
by all classes, yet his life would have fallen a sacrifice to
his humanity, had not a friend-a Mohammedan of rank—
removed him from the street.
IIaving reached
The mob rapidly increased. A few were armed with old
muskets and pistols; others had daggers, axes, clubs, and
such rude weapons as first came to hand. Boys and women
were there; the latter urging on the men.
the Straight Street, on the borders of the Christian quarter,
they, after a brief pause, made a rush upon the house of the
Russian consul-a Greek, who had become especially ob-
noxious to the fanatics. The door was strong, but it soon
yielded to blows of axes. The inmates, paralyzed by fear,
did not attempt resistance. Every male was instantly mur-
1
352
NORTHERN BORDER LAND.
dered. From room to room the fiends ran in search of the
consul who had gone out a short time before. When they
could not find him, they seized the women, dragged them
into the open court, and there treated them with the most
inhuman barbarity. They then pillaged the house and set.
it on fire. This was the first act in the tragedy.
House after house was now broken open. The male in-
habitants-old men and infants-were all murdered; the
females outraged; valuables carried off; and the torch ap-
plied. Night came, but the carnage did not cease. The
flames of the burning houses lighted up the whole city, re-
vealing in every street and lane scenes of brutal outrage
and savage cruelty, such as the world has seldom witnessed.
A large body of the more respectable Christians, seeing
that nothing less than their total extermination was aimed
at, left their homes and sought an asylum in the houses of
Muslem friends. But they soon found that fanaticism ig-
nores friendship. All were received with coldness; some
were driven away; and not a few were handed over to the
mob. A considerable number, however, contrived to reach.
the Castle, which was occupied by a Turkish garrison; and
eventually most of the women and children found a refuge
there, or in the house of Abd-el-Kader.
The outbreak was known to the Pasha from the com-
mencement. He had been warned of the danger long ere
it occurred. A dozen energetic police could have quelled it
when the Russian consulate was attacked. Fifty soldiers
could have quelled the mob at any moment during the mas-
sacre. On the first evening a company of Turkish "regu-
lars," with some native police, were sent to the scene of the
outbreak, but they at once fraternized with the mob. A
British subject, who was an eye-witness of the leading
events during that reign of terror, saw soldiers and citizens
together plundering, burning, and murdering. When re-
sistance was offered in any house, it was set on fire; and
when the wretched inmates, old or young, men or women,
353
attempted to escape, the soldiers drove them back into the
flames with the points of their bayonets. When the troops
and mob fraternized, the doom of the Christians was sealed.
Before that time only a small number of the lowest rabble
had taken part in the outbreak; now the fanatical of every
class, high and low, rich and poor, rushed to the onslaught.
To prevent the possibility of resistance, a united plan of at-
tack was organized. A strong breeze was blowing from.
the west; they began at that side of the Christian quar-
ter, and burned all before them. For three days and three
nights this terrible work of pillage, burning, and slaughter
continued. It ceased only when every article of value was
carried off, every house in ashes, and every male either dead
or in a place of refuge.
MURDER OF MR. GRAHAM.
Among the victims was the Rev. William Graham, mis-
sionary of the Presbyterian Church in Ireland. At the
commencement of the outbreak, he saw a young Christian
lying in the street, wounded and dying. Thoughtless of
danger, he ran for a surgeon; but he was soon assailed by
the mob and forced to fly for his life. He took refuge in the
house of a Muslem, called Mustapha Agha, chief of the po-
lice—a man who had gained his wealth and his office
through the influence of the English consul. The Agha
would scarcely admit him; and when at length he forced
his way in, pursued by a blood-thirsty mob, he found that
Mustapha and his police were among the most active agents
of destruction. During the night, Mr. Graham escaped,
and found a temporary asylum with another Muslem. It
appears that in the course of the following day, Mustapha
Agha heard where Mr. Graham was concealed, and sent a
number of his police with a traitorous message, that they
had orders from the Pasha to escort him, and other refugees,
to the house of the English consul. Under this escort Gra-
ham and a number of others set out; but with one exception.
they never reached their destination. Poor Graham fell in
the open street, pierced by the bullets of his ruffian escort!
351
NORTHERN BORDER LAND.
The events which followed the massacres, and the pro-
longed inquiries and discussions of commissioners, are well
known. The wily Turks succeeded as usual in their crafty
policy of arraying against each other the rival ambassadors
and`governments of Europe. The Christian quarter of Da-
mascus is still a blackened ruin. Merchants once rich and
prosperous, are dependants on charity. Vast numbers of
widows and orphans are homeless, penniless wanderers.
The Turkish Government by treachery and cruelty without
a parallel, have gained their object. They have all but an-
nihilated Christian influence in Syria. They have destroyed
the prestige of European power in that country, and they
have so far prepared the way for carrying out their own
destructive policy without fear of internal opposition.
When will English statesmen open their eyes to the true
character of the Turks? When will they turn their atten-
tion to the real source of all the troubles and calamities of
unhappy Syria? The massacre of 1860 was no sudden or
unexpected ebullition of popular fury; it was long premedi-
tated and skilfully planned. Mohammedans were its pro-
jectors. The first impulse was given from Constantinople.
Turkish officials in Syria, high and low, fostered the fanat-
ical spirit of the populace, and even when the guilt of these
men was proved, every possible effort was made in high
places to screen them from the punishment so justly due to
their crimes.
Our own noble commissioner, Lord Dufferin, acted in his
difficult and delicate position with an energy and an en-
lightened zeal worthy of all praise. In him England had a
fitting representative. To him the Christian sects in Syria,
and the Druses also, owe a debt of gratitude which they
can never repay. He took a wise and statesmanlike view
of Syria's dangers and wants; and had his policy been adopt-
ed it would have gone far to secure the lasting peace, and
promote the permanent prosperity of that unhappy country.
닭
​"THE STREET CALLED STRAIGHT.”
355
HOLY PLACES OF DAMASCus.
In and around Damascus tradition has located the scenes
of many events recorded in sacred history. A few of these
are worthy of notice, as tending to illustrate Bible history.
The Straight Street.—“Arise, and go into the street
which is called Straight, and inquire in the house of Judas
for one called Saul of Tarsus" (Acts vii. 11). The old city
-the nucleus of Damascus-is oval in shape, and surround-
ed by a wall, the foundations of which are Roman, if not ear-
lier, and the upper part a patch-work of all subsequent ages.
Its greatest diameter is harked by the Straight Street,
which is an English mile in length. At its east end is Bab
Shurky, "the East Gate," a fine Roman portal, having a
central and two side arches. The central and southern
arches have been walled up for more than eight centuries,
and the northern now forms the only entrance to the city. In
front of it are the massive remains of a tower built in the
early days of Muslem rule. The present appearance of the
gateway is picturesque though dilapidated. The crumbling
Saracenic battlements and wooden minaret contrasting well
with the massive simplicity of the Roman architecture. In
the Roman age, and down to the time of the Mohammedan
conquest (A.D. 634) a noble street ran in a straight line from
the gate westward through the city. It was divided by
Corinthian colonnades into three avenues, opposite to the
three portals. A modern street runs in the line of the old
one; but it is narrow and irregular. Though many of the
columns remain, they are mostly hidden by the houses and
shops. This is "the street called Straight," along which
Paul was led by the hand, and in which was the house of
Judas, where he lodged.
The Great Mosque.-Tradition has placed in one of the
crypts of this vast structure "the head of John the Bap-
tist," and has thus made it "the sanctuary of Damascus."
The building was originally a temple, erected on the plan
356
NORTHERN BORDER LAND.
of that at Jerusalem. In the fourth century it was remod-
elled and made the Cathedral Church; and in the eighth
century it was appropriated by the Mohammedans. Its
form is that of a church or basilica, with nave and aisles
divided by Corinthian columns. In the centre is a small
dome; and at one side is a spacious cloistered court, flagged
with marble, and ornamented with fountains. It is the most
conspicuous building in the city, its dome and three lofty
minarets being seen from a great distance. Near it is the
castle or citadel, a huge pile founded in the days of the
city's power, and now fast falling to ruin. Within its walls
many
of the Christians found an asylum during the massacre.
Place of Paul's Conversion.-A tradition as old as the
time of the Crusades locates this "holy place" about ten
miles south-west of the city, near a village called Kaukab.
In the spring of 1858 I made a pilgrimage to it. It was a
sunny day, and all nature looked bright and beautiful.
The ride was charming; at first through luxuriant gardens,
and orchards, and groves, where—
"The vines in light festoons
From tree to tree, the trees in avenues,
And every avenue a covered walk,
Hung with black clusters.'
11
From a sombre olive grove I emerged on the open plain,
and soon found the line of the ancient road--the road along
which Paul must have come. It crosses a low ridge which
separates the valleys of the Abana and Pharpar; and on the
top of the ridge is the scene of the conversion. There ap-
peared to me to be much probability in the tradition. At
this spot the traveller from the south obtains his first view
of Damascus. On gaining it Paul saw before him the city
to which he was bound. His fiery zeal would naturally be.
inflamed by the sight, and anew he would there "breathe
out threatenings and slaughter against the disciples of the
Lord." Would it not seem that that was the time when
his proud spirit was humbled; and when the passions of the
357
fanatic were quenched for ever by the flood of divine grace?
"As he journeyed, he came near Damascus; and suddenly
there shined round about him a light from heaven" (Acts
ix. 3).
SCENE OF PAUL'S CONVERSION.
I could not resist the belief that I there stood upon the
very scene of the miracle. But be this as it may, the fea-
tures of the landscape were the same as Paul saw;
-on the
left rose Hermon in all its majesty, a spotless pyramid of
snow; the long range of Anti-Lebanon, gray and bleak,
stretching eastward to the horizon; the broad plain in front,
with its many-tinted foliage; all around little villages em-
bowered in blooming orchards; and away in the distance
the bright buildings of the city. The same figures, too,
gave life to the landscape;-long strings of camels bearing
the wheat of Bashan; cavaliers from the desert armed with
sword and spear; peasants in the fields driving their yokes
of oxen with sharp goads-goads which illustrated, if they
did not suggest, the words of the Lord, "It is hard for thee
to kick against the goads." The same cloudless sky was
there; and the same sun, pouring down a flood of light
on city, plain, and mountain. "At mid-day suddenly a
great light," shone from heaven; and the greatness of that
light those only can know who have seen and felt a Syrian
sun shining in its strength, and who remember that the
light which shone on Paul was "above the brightness of
the sun" (Acts xxvi. 13).
The Sanctuary of Abraham, or Makam Ibrahim as the
Arabs call it, is three miles north of Damascus, at the open-
ing of a wild ravine which runs far up into the heart of
Anti-Lebanon. It is a rude mosque built on the side of a
naked cliff, its inner chamber opening into a deep cleft.
Several legends are attached to it. Some say Abraham
was born there; others, that he worshipped God at that
spot when he turned back from the pursuit of the kings who
had plundered Sodom (Gen. xiv. 15); others, that he had an
altar there when he was King of Damascus; but, probably,
358
NORTHERN BORDER LAND.
•
1
the oldest reference to it is that which Josephus quotes
from the historian Nicolas :-"The name of Abraham is still
famous at Damascus; and a village is shown there which
takes its name from the patriarch, being called the 'Habita-
tion of Abraham"" (Ant. i. 7. 2).
Helbon. The prophet says of Tyre, "Damascus was thy
merchant . . . . in the wine of Helbon and white wool"
(Ezek. xxvii. 18). At the head of the ravine, at whose
mouth is the "Habitation of Abraham," lies the village of
Helbon. Its narrow valley is shut in by steep bare cliffs,
and long shelving banks, from two to three thousand feet in
height. The bottom of the glen is filled with luxuriant or-
chards; and terraced vineyards extend far up the moun-
tain slopes, the vines often clinging to spots where one
would think no human foot could rest. The village con-
sists of about fifty substantial houses, clustering round an
old mosque, from beneath which bursts a noble fountain.
Over the fountain is a porch resting on antique columns;
and a hollowed stone, with a Greek legend bearing the
name of the "Great King Markos," receives the water.
Along the terraces and in the valley below are extensive
ruins. This is the Helbon of Ezekiel; and these are the
vineyards which produced the wine famed alike in the marts
of Tyre and in the court of Persia.
The Tomb of Abel.—The Damascenes believe that the
Garden of Eden was situated in their own plain, and that
the clay of which Adam was formed was taken from the
bank of the Abana. It is not strange, therefore, that they
should have located the tomb of Abel in the same region.
On a lofty cliff overhanging the sublime glen of the Abana,
about fifteen miles north of Damascus, is the reputed tomb.
It measures thirty feet in length. Beside it are the ruins of
a small temple. Looking down from that dizzy height one
sees, in and around a modern village, the ruins of an ancient
city; while the dark openings and façades, which thickly
dot the opposite cliff, mark its necropolis. In this city one
359
can trace the probable origin of the curious tradition of
Abel's tomb. The city, as we learn from a Latin inscrip-
tion on the side of an old excavated road, was called Abila;
and it was not difficult for imaginative Arabs to form out
of this name the story of Abel's tomb.
But Abila itself has some sacred interest. It was the
capital of that province of Abilene of which Lysanias was
tetrarch when John the Baptist entered on his public minis-
try (Luke iii. 1). The site is singularly wild and romantic.
Just above it the Abana cuts through the central chain of
Anti-Lebanon; but as it makes a sharp turn, one can only
see a vast recess in the mountain side, backed by a semi-
circle of cliffs from three to four hundred feet high. Within
this recess, looking out on the windings of the glen below,
lie the ruins of Abila; and in the rocks and precipices over-
head are its tombs.
16
THE TOMB OF ABEL.
APPENDIX.
APPENDIX.
A.
I
HE following estimate of the numbers murdered in Syria during
the massacres of 1860, was drawn up with great care by the
Rev. S. Robson of Damascus, and kindly given to me, It is
much lower than my own estimate founded on official docu-
ments, and letters from friends during, and immediately after, the insur-
rection. It is probably nearer the truth than mine, for, during the excite-
ment of those fearful scenes, it was impossible, even for the soberest minds,
to avoid exaggeration; and very many who had succeeded in escaping, or
secreting themselves, were at first supposed to have been killed. I have
heard of one who remained for four days in a well; of another who lay for
a considerable time under a heap of slain; of several who apostatized.
No estimate of the numbers actually murdered can give an adequate idea
of the terrible results of those massacres. Thousands who escaped the
sword died of fright, of famine, or of subsequent privations. Those mur-
dered were men, mostly in the prime of life, the only stay and support of
wives and children. Their houses were burned; their property was swept
away; all means of support were taken from them. The survivors were
driven forth, homeless, penniless, and in some cases naked and wounded.
Many of the women and girls, too, were, according to the usual Muslem
practice, made the slaves of their brutal persecutors.
Mr. Robson's careful statement will be read with much interest :-
"After the massacre in Damascus the clergy and chief people of each
sect made out a list of the persons belonging to their community who were
killed, as far as it was possible to ascertain their names. Those lists con-
tained the names of about twelve hundred of the known inhabitants of the city.
It is certain, therefore, that that number, at least of persons permanently
resident in Damascus, perished during the three days of the massacre.
•
364
APPENDIX.
"But besides these there was in the city at the time of the massacre, as
at all times, a considerable number of strangers, who were brought by some
business, and were staying for a longer or shorter time in lodgings in various
parts of the city—in the Mohammedan as well as in the Christian quarter.
Of these some were from other towns or districts of Syria, some were Syri-
ans from Mesopotamia, a few were from places farther east, a few were
Copts, and others from Egypt, and many were Armenians from Asia Minor
and Constantinople. It is impossible to ascertain how many persons of this
class were killed in the massacre.
"Another class of strangers in Damascus at the time of the massacre con-
sisted of the Christian inhabitants of the surrounding villages, who had taken
refuge in the city from the dangers which threatened them in their own
homes. Some of the people of Hasbeiya and a large number of those of
Rashciya, who had escaped from the massacres in those towns, fled to Da-
mascus. And during the month which elapsed between those massacres
and that in the city, the Christians, men, women, and children, fled to the
city from all the villages in the plain of Damascus, and from most of those
in Hermon, Wady et-Teim, and Anti-Lebanon. These refugees amounted
to several thousands. They were lodged in the churches, schools, and con-
vents, and in unoccupied khans and houses, and they were daily fed by the
charity of their co-rcligionists in the city. For that purpose money was
collected from the people and donations were made from the church funds.
The majority of these refugees were of the Greek Church. Being crowded
together, and mostly in public places as churches and schoolrooms, a very
large number of them was killed. It is certain that in proportion to their
numbers many more of them were killed than of the inhabitants of the city,
but there were no means of ascertaining the exact number who perished.
"The opinion, however, of those best able to judge is that the number
of strangers killed exceeded that of the inhabitants who perished. The best
estimates of the number vary from thirteen hundred to fifteen hundred.
"I am sure, therefore, that I am rather below than above the truth in
saying that on the 9th, 10th, and 11th of July, 1860, there were murdered in
Damascus at least two thousand five hundred adult male Christians. This is
the conclusion to which I have come after the most careful inquiries.
"The most careful estimates put down the number massacred in the castle
of IIasbeiya, on the afternoon of the 11th of June, at about twelve hundred,
and the number similarly massacred on the same day in the castle of Rasheiya
at about three hundred and fifty.
"Just about one half of the adult males of Deir el-Kamr perished in the
massacre in that town. The most exact estimates make the number of
killed to be between cleven and twelve hundred.
"A few days previous to the massacres of Hasbeiya and Rasheiya about
APPENDIX.
舞
​one hundred and twenty Christians were massacred at a village called Kinâ-
kir, on the west border of the Haurân.
"About the same time- that is immediately after the commencement of
the war in Lebanon a large body of Christians fled from the mountains to
take refuge in Sidon. The gates of the city were closed against them, and
they were obliged to remain in the gardens. There they were attacked by
the Druses from the Lebanon, and the Mohammedans from the city, and
about three hundred were killed.
"These are all the massacres; but a few Christians were killed in almost
every village in which there were Christian inhabitants around Damascus ;
in the Ghûtah, Wady el-Ajam, Hermon, Upper Wady et-Teim, Lower Wady
et-Teim, and Anti-Lebanon, and also in the Bekaa and Belâd Baalbek. In
some villages only two or three, in many six or eight or more, and in a few
considerably more were thus murdered; but no accurate estimate of the
whole number is known to me. These murders were very deplorable in
themselves, but the number of them is small when compared with that of
the persons killed in the massacres, and I omit them entirely from the cal-
culation I am about to give. I omit also, of course, those who were killed
in war.
"The following is then the best summary I can give :—
Damascus..
Hasbeiya........
Rasheiya...
Deir el-Kamr....
Sidon..........
Kinâkir..
.....about 2,500
1,200
350
B.
-- "}
""
})
""
365
""
1,150
300
120
5,620
"If to these five thousand six hundred and twenty were added those
killed, as noticed above, in the villages of Damascus, Hermon, Anti-Leb-
anon, and the Bekaa, we may safely say that about six thousand adult male
Christians were murdered in cold blood in the massacres in Syria in June and
July 1860."
The following most interesting narrative of his personal sufferings, and
wonderful escape from the hands of a blood-thirsty mob, was written by Dr.
Meshakah in August 1860, for and at the request of the Rev. S. Robson.
366
APPENDIX.
-
The original document in Arabic is in Mr. Robson's possession, and he
kindly favoured me with this translation.
I may state that Dr. Meshakah is a Protestant, one of the first fruits of
the Damascus mission. He is a man of considerable learning, of high
talent, and of good social position. IIe was held in the highest respect by
all sects and classes; and being a physician, and having great influence with
the government and with foreign consuls, he had many opportunities of serv-
ing others. These he never failed to embrace, and numbers of Mohamme-
dans had experienced his kindness. Some years ago he was appointed vice-
consul for the United States of America. His janizary, a Mohammedan,
proved faithful, and by his courage and devotion was the means of saving
his life.
TRANSLATION.
"Narrative of what happened to me in the year 1860:-
"In the morning of Monday the 9th of July the city was perfectly quiet,
and his lordship, the Emir Abd el-Kâdir,¹ went on his own business to the
village of El-Ashrafiych.
"At two o'clock in the afternoon an insurrection broke out in the city,
because the authorities had put in irons some individuals who had that day
made figures of crosses in the streets, and compelled the Christians who
passed by to trample on them.2
"I was then alone in my house. My janizary and my eldest son were
absent on business in the palace, and my second son was at school. As
soon as the outbreak began, my janizary, IIajy Aly Alwan, hastened home,
but the insurrection had already reached the neighbourhood of my house,
and it was no longer possible for me to go out of it alone. I sent the jani-
zary, therefore, to the Emir Abd el-Kâdir, and requested him to send some
of his men to protect me. It happened that he had that moment returned
from El-Ashrafiych, and had with him only six of his followers. He sent
me four of them, but as they were unarmed they were unable to reach me.
My janizary, however, bravely ventured and came to me alone.
"When he came we locked the doors of the house. Almost immediately
several armed men arrived and began to break the door with hatchets. I
had only just time to put into my pocket a quantity of gold and silver coin
which I had provided in anticipation of such an occasion, when the door
was broken open, and the armed men-most of them Kurdish irregular sol-
diers-burst in and began to fire at me. I escaped, and while they were
occupied in plundering the house, I went out of the back door with the
janizary, and my two little children, Abraham and Selma. At first I hoped
to conceal myself in the house of one of my Moslem neighbours, till it
might be possible for me to escape to the house of Abd el-Kâdir; but not
M
APPENDIX.
367
3
one of them would admit me. Then I attempted to go in the direction of
the Emir's house; but a mob met me and fired upon me. I threw some
coins among them to occupy their attention, and I turned back in the di-
rection of the place called Bab Tuma (Thomas' Gate') where there was a
guard of soldiers. There another armed party met me and fired upon me.
I threw to them also a quantity of coins, as I had done to the former party.
Again I turned back and took a third way, and again a large party of armed
men met me. I knew eight of these men, and gave their names to the
Government, and six of them have been arrested. Some of these men at-
tacked me with fire-arins, some with swords, some with hatchets and axes,
and some with clubs. My two little children were behind me weeping, and
screaming, saying, 'Kill us and spare our father, for we cannot live without
him!' One of these cruel men struck my little daughter with a hatchet,
and wounded her. The attention of this party also I engaged by throwing
money to them. Praise be to His name, none of the shots struck me,
though one man fired twice at me from a distance of only two or three
yards; but I was wounded with other weapons. I got a dangerous wound
on the head from the blow of a hatchet; and had not the janizary turned it
partly aside, and caught the arm of the murderer, the blow would have
killed me. I received also on the eye a blow from a large club, on my
right shoulder a cut of a sword, and several blows on my right arm, in
consequence of which I cannot yet hold a pen in my right hand. On my
left arm I got only one blow of a club. I had several wounds also in other
parts of my body.
"Amid all this danger and struggle, I reached the Bazaar of Bab Tuma
with the assistance of the janizary who kept constantly by me. Mustafa
Bey,* the chief of the police in that quarter of the city, was in the bazaar,
and I begged him to take me to his house; but though his house was close
at hand, he refused, and ordered some of his men to put me in the house
of Faris el-Khalaf, one of his followers, and a man notorious for wickedness.
He went away with his followers and occupied himself in collecting his
friends to his house, as I could see from the windows of the room in which
I was left. I could sce also the breaking of doors, and the plundering of
Christian houses, and the murdering of the men. Mustafa Bey's men were
busy plundering, and they brought some of the booty to the house in which
I was.
That made me think that some of the murderers would come and
kill me, as happened to many of the Christians who were murdered in the
houses of the Mohammedans where they had taken refuge. I resolved,
therefore, as soon as night came, to leave the house I was in, and go to that
of Mustafa Bey himself, hoping that he would not venture to kill me openly
in his own house,
"
As soon as it was dark, a number of armed men came to the door and
i
368
APPENDIX.
"
asked for me. The door was opened, and I thought they had come to kill
me; but when they entered I found that they belonged to the Emir Abd
el-Kadir, that one of my Mohammedan friends, Mohammed es-Sutery, was
with them, and that they had come to save me. They took me to the Emir,
who received me with all kindness; but as I was covered with blood from
my wounds, and his house was filled with a crowd of Christians, he permit-
ted Mohammed es-Sutery to take me to his house which was very near. He
removed me at once; and leaving me in his house, went in search of my
family, from the last of whom I was separated before entering the house in
which Mustafa Bey put me. He continued his search all night, and brought
to me all the members of my family, except my second son Selim, who re-
mained hidden for three days, while I supposed he was murdered.
"I shall state how it happened that Es-Sutery came to the house of Mus-
tafa Bey's follower to seek me. As soon as he saw the insurrection begun
in the city, he hastened to my house with a number of his friends to save
me. He found it plundered and abandoned; but he scarched for me till he
learned that I had got to Mustafa Bey. He went to him and demanded me
from him. Mustafa declared he did not know where I was. This caused
es-Sutery to distrust and fear him. IIe went, therefore, immediately to the
Emir Abd el-Kâdir, told him what had happened, and assured him that I
had fallen into the hands of Mustafa Bey alive. The Emir at once sent with
him eight chosen men of his armed Algerines. They demanded me from
Mustafa, and he, unable longer to deny his knowledge of my hiding-place,
sent his nephew to guide them to mc.
"On account of my wounds I remained a whole month in the house of
Mohammed es-Sutery, and was treated with the greatest kindness and re-
spect.
"I and my family reached his house, stripped of our clothes, and robbed
of everything else we possessed. My little daughter and myself were wound-
ed. I had only two or three piastres left of the money I had put in my
pocket; but Sheikh Selim Effendi' sent us clothes and other necessaries,
and money for our daily expenses, though he had in his house at the time
about a hundred Christians, all whose wants he was supplying. As for me,
on the morning of July the 9th, I was one of the rich, and on the morning
of the 10th I was one of the poorest; but in every state I praise the most
high God for saving me and my family alive.
"The distrust I felt of the house in which I was first placed, turned out
to be well founded, for after the arrival of Fuad Pasha, it was proved that
Mustafa Bey and his nephews and followers, had in various ways killed
hundreds of Christians, and among them the Rev. William Graham. But
the Most IIigh and Holy One delivered me from their brutality. Mustafa
369
Bey, two of his nephews, and several of his followers, were hanged on the
20th of the following month.
APPENDIX.
"The insurrection commenced in the bazaars in the city, and did not
reach me till an hour afterwards. Meantime the English Consul requested
the Pasha to send a guard to my house. The Pasha replied he had sent a
colonel to protect me; but no one ever came to me from the Government."
6
The following notes to this narrative are kindly communicated by Mr.
Robson, and will serve to throw light on some of the incidents and state-
ments:
(4
1. The Emir Abd el-Kadir was a chief of the Moors of Algiers, and
their most distinguished leader in the protracted struggle against France.
After a long and brave resistance, he fell into the hands of the conquerors,
in the reign of Louis Philippe. IIe was afterwards released from confine-
ment and exiled to Damascus, where he resided for a number of years previ-
ous to 1860. On account of his high rank, his fame as a warrior, and his
zeal as Mohammedan, he had great influence in Damascus with both the
people and the government. A large number of Algerines, too haughty and
bigoted to live under a conquering infidel power, have emigrated to Syria.
Many of them lived in and around Damascus. These all obey the Emir as
their chicf. The Emir, like every one else in the city, had been for some
wecks dreading a massacre. Though an earnest Mohammedan he was anx-
ions to prevent it; and he made arrangements for arming the Algerines,
and employing them in defending or saving the Christians. He had been
constantly on the alert for two or three weeks previous to Monday the 9th;
but means had been taken to persuade him that all danger was past. Hence,
as Meshakah says, the city seemed perfectly quiet on that morning, and the
Emir went from home on private business.
2. "The arrest of two Mohammedans for publicly insulting Christians
was, of course, not the cause of the insurrection, but a pretext for accom-
plishing a previously arranged plan.
3. "Dr. Meshakah often had it in his power to serve in various ways his
Mohammedan neighbors, and never neglected an opportunity of doing so.
Yet when his life was in danger-when he was hunted by a blood-thirsty
mob, not one of them would give-him shelter! Mrs. Meshakah went among
them from door to door, begging them to receive her husband. She pros-
trated herself on the ground before their wives and daughters, kissed their
feet, and with streaming eyes offered them hor jewels, even the very hair of
her head. But not one of them was moved to pity!
4. "Mustafa Bey had received much kindness from English Consuls, and
870
APPENDIX.
always professed the greatest friendship for Englishmen. Dr. Meshakah was
long in the employment of the English consulate, was a British subject, and
had been for many years a personal friend of Mustafa Bey. It was natural
for him to expect protection from Mustafa. There is, however, no doubt
now on the mind of any one acquainted with the facts, that if Abd el-
Kâdir's men had not rescued him from the house in which Mustafa placed
him, he would have been murdered before morning.
5. "The Sheikh Selîm Effendi is a Mohammedan. Had it not been for
Abd el-Kâdir, Sheikh Selîm and a few others of a similar spirit, the slaugh-
ter of the Christians would have been much greater than it was. Such men
deserve grateful and honourable mention.
6. "This is a specimen of the deceitful policy of the Pasha and the other
Turkish authorities during the preparation for and progress of the massa-
cre."
GEN. x. 15-18………
xii. 8.....
xiii. 8-10...
xiv. 5.
xiv. 10.
XV. 18.
·
xvi. 12
xviii. 5....
xix. 2
xix. 27, 28.
xxiv. 63..
xxvii. 33.
xxviii. 14..
xlix. 14, 15
xlix. 21.
•
•
•
한다​.
TEXTS OF SCRIPTURE
EXODUS xxiii. 22-81...
NUM. xxxii. 42.
LEV. xxvi. 80-84......
DEUT. iii. 4……….
xxxiv. 4-9...
7...
•
iii. 9..
iii. 11..
viii. 7-9...
xii. 2...
•
xxv. 4.
xxviii. 23.
xxix, 22-24
xxxiii. 19...
JOSH. vii. 4-20……..
x. 7.
xi. 1, 2..
+ •
•
ILLUSTRATED OR EXPLAINED.
•
...
#
.. 308
28, 31, 330
332
198
115
161
197
174
250
263, 266
•
Page
276 JOSH. xi. 7...
178
xi 17.....
178
xii. 7...
43, 68, 85
xiii. 4-6..
115
xiii. 11, 12.
xxiii. 13-16…….
•
...
·
•
··
49, 51, 55, 58, 110
183, 247, 826
42
2SS, 309, 816
·· ··
808
...
……….
·0·
179-180
176
239
..
JUDGES i. 31, 32
i. 33.
ii. 20-28..
iii. 31..
iv. 6..
iv. 6-9.
iv. 11....
iv. 13...
iv. 14....
v. 19....
v. 20, 21.
v. 28....
vi. 3, seq...
viii. 18...
24
30
18
58
243
205
211 1 SAM. Vi………….
DS
244
·
...
xiii. 15
xvi. 8...
xvi. 31.
xviii. 28
xx. 45
...
❤
RUTH ii. 3, 4....
ii. 14
•
••• 1
•
•
•••
• ·
...
•
·
D
•
x. 17...
xiii. 14...
xiv
xxii..
XXV. 1.
xxxi. 1-3...
•
Page
275
307
.. 30S
276, 287, 291, 309
76
...308
276
265
808
205
244
266
272
259
. 249
259
. 260
272
254
244
88
209
221
274
174
..
...
•
••
·
•
.. 197
205
•
..
·
195
175
180
181
. 185
138
255
•
...
+
1
372
TEXTS OF SCRIPTURE
1 Sam. xxxi 8-10……….
XXX 1. 11-18..
2 SAM. i. 19-25
i. 21
ii. 12-32.
ii. 18
iii. 10……….
v. 11...
viii. 3....
•
··
··
xv. 23, 30....
xvii. 1..
xxi. 8-11...
xxi. 11-15
xxiv. 2
2 KINGS ii. 24.
·
1 KINGS iii. 4-12..
iv. 13...
v. 18....
vii. 10...
ix. 27..
XV. 20...
xv. 20...
xvi. 31..
xvii. 9..
xvii. 9-24.
xviii. 44..
xx. 10.
xxi. 23
...
···
..
··
1 CHRON. xii. 8.
xii. 15.
xii. 32.
•
iv. 8-20...
iv. 30....
V
vi. 18-17..
ix.
• •
•
xxxi. 82..
xxxvii. 22.
ix. 36...
xv. 29...
xviii. 13.
xix. 35..
xx. 20.
xxiii. 16.
xxiii. 29-34..
XXV. 1-7
...
·· •
··
• •
• • C ་
L O
[ D
•
2 Curon. xvi. 14…….
XXXV. 21.
NEH. iii. 26..
JOB i. 14, 15
•
•
•
•
•
•
··
Page
256 Ps. xxix. 3-6..
142
xlii. 11..
xlviii. 2
lxxii. 16.
Ixxix. 1, 4, 5.
lxxxiii. 10....
lxxxix. 12...
•
• •
..307
276
314
164
223
184
201 CANT. iv. 12, 15.
v. 15....
307
255
256
176
266
291
.. 127
276
267
274
299
277
280
241
343
256
•
175
44
··
182
253
241
844
345
257
178
..325
325
256
267
289
212
34
266
112
251
189, 142
260
126
818
833
60
· • •
civ. 16....
cxxii. 3
ISA. i. 7....
CXXV. 2.
cxxvi. 4.
cxliv. 12...
·
...
• • •
O
❤
ii. 12, 13,.
v. 2....
vi. 11, 12.
viii. 6.
X. 32
xiii. 21..
xiv. 18...
xvii. 1-8.....
xvii. 2……….
xix. 5-7...
••• D
xli. 15..
xlii. 15..
lx. 13.
Ixlii. 1.
JER. iv. 7.
iv. 26.
vii. 32
ix. 1, 2.
xii. 12.
...
...
·· •
xxii. 16..
xxiv. 1-3 ...
xxiv. 3....
xxiv. 12...
xxv. 11, 12
xxvii. 10..
...
• •
•
xxvii. 10, 11
xxviii. 16..
xxxii. 18
xxxii. 14
xxxiii. 8.
xxxiii. 9..
xxxiii. 10.
xxxiv. 14.
Xxxv. 2.
• ··
• •
•
• •
•
•
...
•
• •
•
•
• •
•
• • • ·
M
• ·
xix. 7, 8
xxvi. 18...
xxxii. 43…….
•
•
•
……….
•
•
Page
297
164
123
294
129
259
252
296
122
122, 175
196
125
•
··
...
•
•
·· V
•
•
•
··
286
286
41
296
120
71
148
49, 51
247
49, 89
49, 51
228, 240
70
96
240, 286
205
38
286
78
BARE858*2
•
35
138
347
69
196
189
71
62, 229
146
188
71, 184, 237, 818
•
146
... 122
... 261
JER. xlviii. 9.
xlviii. 12.
xlviii. 19.
xlviii. 24.
xlviii. 28...
xlviii. 32.
xlviii. 47.
xlix. 13.
xlix. 7-22………..
EZEK. vi. 3-6 ...
vi. 13....
vii. 2
vii. 23.
vii. 24.
viii. 1, 2
xii. 19....
xii. 20....
DAN. v. 7....
V.
AMOS i. 2...
ii. 8...
v. 5....
Xxxvi. 3, 4, 12..
xxvi. 14 .
xxvi. 21 ....
xxvii. 9...
xxvii. 18..
MICAH iii, 12.
ZEPH. ii. 4.
ii. 4
ii. 5.
...
HOSEA i. and ii.
i. 5 ...
v. 1....
JOEL i. 6-12....
··
••
xxxi. 3, 8.
xxxix. 18..
xivii. 15-17.
•
•
··
•
MATT. iv. 5.
• ··
Zecп. iv. 5....
ix. 6……….
ix. 9..
xii. 11.
•
··
+ ··
•
· •
··
·
viii. 20...
xi. 21.
xi. 23,
xvi. 18-20....
ILLUSTRATED OR EXPLAINED.
•
•
•
•
..
•
95, 104
800
... 67
67, 185
95, 130
154
95, 318
66
279
279
19
291
358
296
15
310
Page
80 MATT. xxi. 33..
xxiv..
86
75
73
79
78
73
*
...
73
•
73
173
60
250
244
50
240
205
178
195
207
202, 214
126
207
-199
168, 169
260
xxvi. 36....
xxvii. 9..
xxvii. 23.
xxvii. 66....
MARK iv. 4...
vii. 26....
xiii. 1
xiii. 2..
xiv. 70...
xvi. 3...
xii. 1
JOIN i. 46..
vii. 53..
ix. 7..
x.•8-5
x. 23....
xi. 18 ...
•
·
...
LUKE iv. 26.
vi. 1...
vi. 12...
x. 25-37...
xi. 1....
xxi. 33..
xxi. 37....
xxiv. 12...
xxiv. 50...
·
•
· O
...
D
··
• •
xiii. 26...
xviii. 2.
·
ACTS i. 9-12.
vii. 11.
viii. 26
ix. 1.
ix. 8..
ix. 34.
x. 6..
x. 9.
xii. 23.
xxi. 3...
xxvi. 18...
xxvii. 8.
1]
• •
•
•
...
4
••
...
•
•
1 Cor. XV. 8....
COR.
125 2 Cor. xi. 82....
160
108 HEB. i. 14....
109
105 REV. xvi. 16..
··
D
•
··
………
373
••
.. ··
•
•
•
• ··
198
277
125
. 163
267
140
277
... 198
161
165
.. 160
163
159
140
165-6
G
...
•
Page
120
163
159
147
173
140
•
266
159
148
46
125
166
355
210
847
357
230
229
32, 161
237
277
857
277
39
168
206
161
847
348
315
261
Abel-beth-Maachah, 274.
Abila, 859.
Abraham's sanctuary at Damascus, 357.
Absalom's pillar, 148.
Aceldama, 146.
Achzib, 277.
Acre, or Accho, 277.
Adonis, River, 290-Fountain, 298.
Afineh, 89.
Afka, 298.
Ai, 178.
Ain, 825.
Ajalon, 177.
Akir, see Ekron.
Amanus, 287.
Anazeh Arabs, 831.
Anathoth, 188.
Anti-Lebanon, 287.
Aqueducts underground, 33.
Arethusa, 818.
Argob, 18, 24, 28, 30, 90, 92,
Armageddon, 260.
Ary, 62.
Ascalon, 206.
Ashdod, 198.
INDEX.
Ashteroth-Karnaim, 11, 12, 48, 89.
Athlît, 239.
Atyl, 54.
Auranitis, 15.
Ayan, 82.
Azekah, 219.
Baal, Temple of, 299-names of, 259.
Baal-Gad, 308.
Baal-Hermon, 103.
Sum
Bakah, 232.
Barak, Victory of, 272.
Barûk, 304.
Bashan, 11 seq., 29, 85, 45, 81-plain of, 60
seq.-oaks of, 28, 87-mountains, 28, 39,
-50, 63, 87.
Batanea, 34 seq.
Beeroth, 177.
Beersheba, 807.
Beit-Hanîna, 172.
Beit-Jibrin, 215.
Bethany, 167.
Bethel, 177.
Beth-gamul, 70, 81.
Beth-horon, 177.
Beth-rehob, 273.
Bethsaida, 109.
Bethsaida-Julias, 107.
Beth-shemesh, 220.
Beth-Shan, 252.
Beyrout, 288.
Bozrah, 64.
Bozrah of Edom, 73.
Bukfeiya, 299.
Burâk, 25.
Busr el-Harfry, 93.
Byblus, 291.
Cole-Syria, 287.
Caesarea-Palestina, 237.
Caesaren-Philippi, 105.
Capernaum, 109.
Caravan travelling, 20.
Carmel, 228, 240.
Castellum Peregrinorum, 239.
Cedars, 295.
Chorazin, 108.
Christ's baptism, Scene of, 111.
Church of the Sepulchre, 132.
Coenaculum, 142.
Daborath, 249.
Damascus, 342-massacre of, 350-holy
places in, 355-plain of, 20.
Dan, 104, 808.
Darom, 264.
David, Tomb of, 142-flight from Absalom,
163-battle with Goliath, 223.
376
INDEX.
Dead Sea, 112 seq.
Deir Dubbân, 216.
Deir el-Kulah, 299.
Deir el-Kamr, 303.
Dor, 239.
Druses, 46, 59, 800, 302.
Duweireh, 93.
Edrei, 94.
Eglon, 213.
Ehden, 294.
Ekron, 194.
Elah, Valley of, 219, 222.
Eleutheropolis, 215.
Elijah, sacrifice on Carmel, 241 seq.
Emesa, 314.
Endor, 255, 255.
Engannim, 257.
Esdraclon, 250.
Galilee, Sea of, 107.
Gath, 217.
Gaulanitis, 15.
Gaza, 20S.
Gebal, 291.
Geba, 182.
George, St., 192, 259.
Gerar, Valley, 209.
Geshurites, 14.
Gethsemane, 159.
Giants, 11, 80, 76.
Gibeah of Saul, 184.
Gibeon, 176.
Giblites, 291.
Gideon, Victory of, 258.
Gilboa, 254, 256.
Gimzo, 230.
Goliath, Death of, 223.
Halak, Mount, 308.
Hamath, 810-Entrance of, 288.
IIarod, Well of, 253.
Hazar-enan, 328.
Hazor, Site of, 271, 275.
Hebrân, 89.
Helbon, 358.
IIelena, Tomb of, 158.
Hendaj, Wady, 270.
Hermon, 103.
Hinnom, 122.
Hit, 29.
Hiyat, 29.
Hor, Mount, 287, 816.
Hospitality, Eastern, 59, 88.
House-top, Prayer on, 82.
Hums, Emesa, 314.
Hunin, 278.
Ijon, 274.
Issachar, Possessions of, 250.
Jabneh, or Jabneel, 197.
Jael, 273.
James, Tomb of, 150.
Jarmuth, 219.
Jebeil, 291.
Jebel el-Ghurby, 287.
Jebel esh-Sheikh, Hermon, 287.
Jebel esh-Shurky, 287.
Jerusalem, 119 seq.-View of, from Olivet,
120-Walls of, 122-Haram wall, 124-
Tombs of, 138.
Jezreel, 256-Valley of, 250, 252.
Jezzîn, 305.
Jobar, 346.
Jokneam, 261.
Jonathan, Death of, 254.
Jordan, 101 seq.-Depression of, 102-Foun-
tains, 108-Lower, 110.
Judgment, Valley of, 124.
Kadîsha, River, 293, 294.
Kades, Lake, 815.
Kanobîn, Convent, 294.
Kedesh-Naphtali, 270.
Kenath, 42.
Kerioth, 82.
Kidron, 120.
Kings, Tombs of, 152.
Kirâtah, 98.
Kirjath-jearim, 174.
Kishion, 241.
Kufr, 89.
Kuleib, Mountain, 63.
Kunawát, see Kenath.
Kuryetein, 323.
☛
Lachish, 212.
Ladder of Tyre, 277.
Lazarus, Raising of, 168.
Lebanon, 285 seq.-Ascent of, 293-South-
ern, 301.
Lejah, see Argob, 24, 98, 96.
Lydda, 191.
Maacathites, 14.
Magoras, River, 289, 299.
Makkedah, 219.
Mareshah, 216.
Massacres at Deir el-Kamr, 808-at Damas-
cus, 350-see APPENDIX.
Megiddo, Battle of, 258.
Merj-'Ayûn, see Ijon.
Merom, Waters of, 106, 275.
Michmash, 180.
Migdal-gad, 204.
Mizpeh, 178.
Moab, Plain of, 77, 79-Cities of, 76, 79.
Moreh, Hill of, 248, 251, 254.
Moriah, 120.
Mujeimir, 63.
Mukhtara, 304.
Nahr el-Kelb, 290.
Nain, 251.
-Mountains, 267.
Neby Samwil, Mizpeh, 173.
Nejrûn, 92.
Nob, 184.
Nobah, 42.
Sunnîn, Jebel, 298.
Naphtali, Possessions of, 262, History, 265 Surâr, Wady, see Sorek.
Suweideh, 55.
Og, 12, 95.
Olivet, 155 seq.
Orontes, River, 310, 813, 815.
Palmyra, 327 seq.
Paul's Conversion, 347, 356.
Peraea, 165.
Pharpar, 22.
Philistia, 189 seq.
Phoenicia, 276 seq.
Pilgrim's bathing-place, 111.
Prophecy fulfilled, 49, 71, 81.
Prophets, Tombs of the, 150.
Ptolemais, Acre, 277.
INDEX.
Ramleh, 189.
Rephaim, 11, 80, 83-Houses of, St.
Riblah, 324.
Rimmon, 174.
Saccaea, 36.
Safed, 268.
Samaria, 231.
Sarepta, 280.
Saron, see Sharon.
Saul, Death of, 254.
Sea, Dead, 112.
Sea of Galilee, 107.
Sennacherib, 290.
Sepulchre, Holy, 132.
Shair, Wady, 231.
Sharon, 193, 227.
Shephelah, 190.
Shepherds leading their flocks, 45.
Shocoh, 223.
Shulba, 36.
Shunem, 252.
Sidon, 280.
Siloam, 147.
Sirion, 287.
Sisera, Death of, 273.
Solomon's ascent to temple, 126.
Sorek, 195, 196, 220.
i
Succoth, 111.
Sudud, Zedad, 316.
Suleim, 39.
Taanach, 258.
Taarah, 93.
Tabor, 243-Ruins on, 247-Views from, 248.
Tadmor, see Palmyra, 327, 836.
Tammuz, 292, 298.
Tel el-Kâdy, Dan, 103, 104.
Tell es-Sâfieh, Gath, 219.
Temple, site 121-pinnacle, 124-destruc-
tion foretold, 163.
Tiglath-pileser, 272.
Timnath, 220.
Tombs, in Hauran, 36, 40-in Jerusalem,
186-in Kedesh, 272-in Sidon, 280-in
Palmyra, 338.
Tomb of our Lord, 152.
Tophet, 145.
Trachonitis, 15, 98.
Transfiguration, Scene of, 106, 243.
Triumphal entrance of Christ, 168.
Tyre, 278.
Tyropean, 121, 126.
Via Dolorosa, 131.
Virgin, Tomb of, 151.
377
Wailing, place of, 128-for the dead, 89.
Wetr, 63.
White cape, 277.
Wilderness of Judea, 167.
Zaanaim, 272.
Zacharias, Tomb of, 149.
Zarephath, 277.
Zedad, 316, 323.
Zion, 121.
Ziphron, 314.
Zobah, 814.
Zorah, 220.
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