YALE UNIVERSITY
LIBRARY

From the Library of
LOUIS S. de FOREST, Y'79

"^ '

H'Mm
INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL

EGYPT, ARABIA PETRiEA,
AND
THE HOLY LAND.
BY AN AMERICAN.
WITH A MAP AND ENGRAVINGS.
SIXTH EDITION, WITH ADDITIONS.
IN TWO VOLUMES.
VOL. II.

NEW-YORK:
HARPER & BROTHERS, 82 CLIFF-STREET.
18 38.

Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1837, by
Harper & Brothers,
in the Clerli's Office of the Southern District of New- York.
Eeil ^
x/.z IT

CONTENTS

THE SECOND VOLUME.

CHAPTER I.
The Caravan. — A sudden Change of Purpose. — Perils of a Storm. — Com
fortless Repentance. — Solitude. — A Woman and a Chase. — A Patriarchal
Feast. — Condition of the Arab Women. — Hospitality. — No refusing a
good Offer. — A Dilemma - - - Page 7
CHAPTER II.
Evening Amusements. — A Trial of the Feelings. — A Disappointment. — A
Santon of the Desert. — An Arab Fisherman. — Turkish Costume. — A po-
tent Official. — A Comfortless Sick-room. — A Visit from the Sheik. — In
terested Friendship. — Akaba. — The El Alouins.— Questionable Piety 17
CHAPTER III.
Prophecy and Fulfilment. — Unpleasant Suggestions. — The Denounced
Land. — Management. — A Rencounter. — An Arab's Cunning. — The Cam
el's Hump. — Adventure with a Lamb. — Mount Hor. — Delicate Negotia
tions. — Approach to Petra - . . 34
CHAPTER IV.
Petra. — Arrival. — Entrance to the City. — The Temple of Petra. — A Rec
ord. — The Theatre. — Tombs of Petra. — Arab Simplicity. — Departure
from Petra.-^A Night in a Tomb. — Dangers of the Route - 50
CHAPTER V.
A bold Endeavour. — Unexpected Obstacles. — Disadvantage of a Dress. —
The Dead Sea. — A New Project. — The Tomb of Aaron. — An Alarm. —
Descent of the Mountain. — An awkward Meeting. — Poetic License.—
All's Well that Ends Well. — Unexpected Dignities. — Arab Notion* of
Travel  67

IV CONTENTS.

CHAPTER VI.
Valley of El Ghor. — Prophecies against Edom. — The Sheik's Treachery. —
An Explosion. — Personnel of the Arabs. — Amusing Retrospect. — Money
Troubles. — Aspect of the Valley. — Death of a Camel. — The Desert
Horses. — Native Salt ... .... Page 84
CHAPTER VII.
The Road to Gaza. — Unknown Ruins. — A Misadventure. — Pastoral Bed
ouins. — A Flower of the Wilderness. — The Ravages of War. — Testimony
of an Eyewitness . - ... loo
CHAPTER VIII.
Approach to Hebron. — A Sick Governor. — A Prescription at Random. —
Hospitahty of the Jews.— Finale with the Bedouins. — A Storm. — A Calm
after the Storm. — Venalityof the Arabs. — Hebron. — A Coptic Christian.
— Story of the Rabbi. — Professional Employment - - - 112
CHAPTER IX.
An Arnaout. — The Pools of Solomon. — Bethlehem. — The Empress He!
ena. — A Clerical Exquisite. — Miraculous Localities. — A Boon Compan
ion. — The Soldier's Sleep. — The Birthplace of Christ. — Worship in the
Grotto. — Moslem Fidelity - ... X32
CHAPTER X.
The Tomb of Rachel. — First View of Jerusalem. — Falling among Thieves.
— Potent Sway of the Pacha.— A Turkish Dignitary. — A Missionary. —
Easter in Jerusalem. — A Little Congregation . - . 149
CHAPTER XI.
Church of the Holy Sepulchre.— An unexpected Discovery.— Mount Cal
vary.— The Sepulchre.— The Valley of Jehoshaphat. — The Garden of
Gethsemane.— Place of the Temple.— The four Great Tombs. — Siloa's
Brook - -  - 160
CHAPTER XII.
The Field of Blood.— A Traveller's Compliment. — Singular Ceremony. 
A Ragged Rascal.— Ostentatious Humility.— Pride must have a Fall.—
An Ancient Relic. — Summary Legislation . . . 173

CONTENTS.

CHAPTER XIII.
The Synagogue.— Ideal Speculation.— A Ride in the Rain.— An Ex-official.
— Joppa.— A Moral Phenomenon. — Reverence for the Grave Page 184
CHAPTER XIV.
Desert of St. John. — A Midnight Procession.— Road to Jericho.— A Com
munity of Women.— A Navigator of the Dead Sea.— A Dance by Moon
light. — A rude Lodging - - - - 195
CHAPTER XV.
The River Jordan.— The Dead Sea.— Force of Example.— Buoyancy of
the Dead Sea. — A Perilous Ascent. — A Navigator of the Dead Sea. —
Story of the Voyage. — The Convent of Santa Saba - 205
CHAPTER XVI.
Convent of Saint Saba. — A strange Picture. — Celebration of Good Friday.
— Palm Sunday. — A Struggle for Life. — The Grave of a Friend. — A Con
vert. — Burial of a Missionary ... . . 217
CHAPTER XVII.
Pilgrimage to the Jordan.— Pilgrim's Certificate. — The Tomb of Samuel.
— Departure from Jerusalem. — Last View of the Dead Sea. — Village
of Eiribroot. — Departure from Judea. — Mounts Gerizim and Ebal. —
An Antique Manuscript. — Paas in Samaria - - 228
CHAPTER XVIII.
Sebaste. — Ruins of the Palace of Herod. — Mount Tabor. — Nazareth. —
Scriptural Localities. — Tiberias.— An English Sportsman. — Bethsaida
and Chorazin.— Capernaum. — Zafifad. — Arrival at Acre - 244
CHAPTER XIX.
A Ride on Donkeyback. — Caipha. — Adventure with a Consul. — Mount
Carmel. — The Plain of Jezreel. — Convent of Mount Carmel.— Kindness
of the Monks.— Curiosity Gratified . - - 268
CHAPTER XX.
St. Jean d' Acre.— Extortions of the Pacha. — Tyre. — Questionable Com
pany. — Lady Esther Stanhope. — Departure from the Holy Land — Con
clusion ... ...... 275
NOTB ...  283

INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL

EGYPT, ARABIA PETRiEA, &c.

CHAPTER I.

The Caravan. — A sudden Change of Purpose. — Perils of a Storm. — Com
fortless Repentance. — Solitude. — A Woman and a Chase. — A Patriarchal
Feast. — Condition of the Arab Women. — Hospitality).— No refusing a
good Offer. — A Dilemma.
My caravan consisted of five camels, four Arabs, Paul,
and myself. We moved silently down the valley, and I
tried hard to fasten my thoughts upon Gaza, the strong city
of the Philistines, the city of Delilah and Samson, and to
amuse my discontented spirit with imagining the gates
which he carried away, and the temple which he pulled
down ; but it would not do ; Petra, the rock of Edom, the
excavated city, was uppermost in my mind. We had been
marching in perfect silence about four hours, and I was
sitting carelessly on my dromedary, thinking of everything
but what I saw, when Toualeb pointed to a narrow opening
in the mountain as the road to Akaba. I raised my head
unconsciously, and it struck me, all of a sudden, that I was
perfectly recovered, and fit for any journey. It was a day
such as can only be seen in the mountainous desert of
Arabia, presenting a clearness and purity in the atmosphere,
and a gentle freshness in the air, which might almost bring

8 INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL.
to life a dying man. I stretched myself and brandished
my Nubian club ; my arm seemed nerved with uncommon
vigour ; I rose in my saddle strong as the slayer of the
Philistines, and, turning the head of my dromedary towards
the opening in the mountains, called out briefly and de
cidedly, to " Akaba and Petra." Paul was astonished ; he
took the pipe from his mouth, and for a moment paused ;
then knocking out the ashes, he slipped from his dromedary
and ran up to the side of mine, looking up in my face with
an expression of countenance that seemed to intimate
strong suspicions of my sanity. After gazing at me as
steadfastly as he could without being impertinent, he went
away, still apparently in doubt, and I soon saw him follow
ing with Toualeb, in earnest conversation. Toualeb was
even more astonished than Paul. The Arabs are not used
to any of these mercurial changes of humour ; and, accord
ing to their notion, if a man sets out for Gaza he must go
to Gaza ; they cannot conceive how one in his right reason
can change his mind ; and Toualeb would have been very
easily persuaded that an evil spirit was hurrying me on,
particularly as, like Paul, from the beginning he had op
posed my going by Petra and Idumea. Finding me reso
lute, however, he soon began to run, and brought back
the camels, which were some distance in advance, and for
several hours we moved on in perfect silence through the
wild and rugged defile.
The mountains on each side were high, broken, and
rugged, and ever presenting the same appearance of ex
treme old age. The road, if road it might be called, was
rougher than any I had yet travelled ; it was the only open
ing among the mountains by which we could pass at all,
made by the hand of Nature, and so encumbered with
fallen rocks that it was exceedingly difiicult for our camels
to advance. I did not intend to push far that day ; and a
little before dark I proposed to encamp in a narrow pass

STORM IN THE MOUNTAINS. 9
between the mountains, where there was barely room to
pitch our tents ; but appearances threatened rain, and Toua
leb, pointing to the accumulation of stones and rocks which
had fallen from the mountain and been washed through the
pass, told me it would be a dangerous place to spend the
night in. There was no earth to drink the falling rain, and,
pouring down the hard and naked mountain side?, it formed
a torrent in the pass, which hurried and dashed along,
gathering force at every moment, and carrying with it
bodies of sand and stones that would have crushed to atoms
any obstruction they might meet in their resistless progress.
I felt at once the force of the suggestion ; and as I had no
idea of being disturbed in the night by such a knock at the
door of my tent as one of these gigantic missiles would
have made, we kept on our difficult way. At dark we were
still in the ravine. Toualeb was right in his apprehensions ;
for some time before we reached the end of the pass the
rain was Jailing in torrents, the rocks and stones were wash
ing under our feet, and we heard the loud roar of thunder,
and saw the forked lightning play among the mountain-
tops. It was two hours after dark before we reached a
place where it was prudent to encamp. We pitched our
tent in the open valley ; the thunder was rumbling, and ever
and anon bursting with a terrific crash among the riven
mountains, and the red lightning was flashing around the
hoary head of Sinai. It was a scene for a poet or painter ;
but, under the circumstances, I would have given all its
sublimity for a pair of dry pantaloons. Thunder and light
ning among mountains are exceedingly sublime, and ex
cellent things to talk about in a ballroom or by the fireside ;
but, my word for it, a man travelling in the desert has other
things to think of. Everything is wet and sloppy ; the
wind catches under his tent before he can get it pinned
down ; and when it is fastened, and he finds his tight can
vass turning the water like a cemented roof, and begins to

10 INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL.
rub his hands and feel himself comfortable, he finds but the
beginning of trouble in a wet mat and coverlet.
I was but poorly prepared for a change like this, for I
had been so long used to a clear, unclouded sky, that I
almost considered myself beyond the reach of the changing
elements. It was the beauty of the weather more than
anything else that had tempted me to turn ofi" from the road
to Gaza ; and, hardly equal to this change of scene, my
heart almost sank within me. I reproached myself as if
for a wilful and unjustifiable disregard of prudence, and no
writer on moral duties could have written a better lecture
than I inflicted upon myself that evening. In wet clothes
I was literally sitting on the stool of repentance. Droop
ing and disheartened, I told Paul that I was already pun
ished for my temerity, and the next morning I would go
back and resume the road to Gaza. For the night, how
ever, there was but one thing to be done, and that was to
sleep if I could, and sleep I did. A man who rides all day
upon a dromedary must sleep, come what may, and even
thunder among the mountains of Sinai cannot wake him.
Daylight brought back my courage ; the storm w;as over ;
the sun was shining brightly as I ever saw it even in the
East ; and again there was the same clear and refreshing
atmosphere that had beguiled me from my prudent resolu
tion. I too was changed again; and, in answer to the
suggestion of Paul, that we should retrace our steps, I
pointed towards Akaba, and gave the brief and emphatic
order, " Forward !"
We continued for several hours along the valley, which
was closely bounded on either side by mountains, not high,
but bare, cracked, and crumbling into fragments. The tops
had apparently once been lofty and pointed, but time, and
the action of the elements, had changed their character.
The summits had crumbled and fallen, so as to expose on
©very side a rounded surface, and the idea constantly pres-

SOLITUDE OF THE DESERT. 11
ent to my mind was, that the whole range had been shaken
by an Almighty hand ; shaken so as to break the rugged sm-
face of the mountains, but not with sufficient force to dash
them into pieces ; I could not help thinking that, with another
shock, the whole mass would fall in ruins. I had often re
marked the silence and stillness of the desert ; but never had
I been so forcibly impressed with this peculiarity as since I
left the convent. The idea was constantly present to my
mind, " How still, how almost fearfully still !" The mount
ains were bare of verdure ; there were no shrubs or bushes,
and no rustling of the wind, and the quiet was like that of
the ocean in a perfect calm, when there is not a breath of
air to curl a wave, or shake the smallest fold in the lazy
sail that hangs useless from the yard. Occasionally we
disturbed a hare or a partridge, but we had not met a human
being since we left the convent. Once we saw the track
of a solitary dromedary, the prints of his feet deeply bed
ded in the sand, as if urged by one hurrying with hot haste ;
perhaps some Bedouin robber flying to his tent among
the mountains with the plvmder of some desert victim ; we
followed it for more than an hour, and when we lost sight
of it on the rocky road, I felt as if we were more lonely than
before. I was thinking what an incident it would be in the life
of one used to the hurrying bustle of steamboats and rail
roads, to travel for days through this oldest of countries
without meeting a living being ; and, as far as I could un
derstand, it might well be so ; there was no trade even for
small caravans, and years passed by without any person,
even an Arab, travelling this road. Toualeb had been over
it but once, and that was ten years before, when be accom
panied M. Laborde on his way to Petra. I knew that
there were Bedouin tents among the mountains, but, unless
by accident, we might pass through without seeing any of
them ; and I was speculating on the chances of our not

12 INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL.
meeting a single creature, when Paul cried out that he saw
a woman ; and, soon after repeating the exclamation, dis
mounted and gave chase. Toualeb ran after him, and in
another moment or two I caught a glimpse and followed.
I have before mentioned that, among these barren and
desolate mountains, there was frequently a small space of
ground, near some fountain or deposite of water, known only
to the Arabs, capable of producing a scanty crop of grass
to pasture a few camels and a small flock of sheep or goats.
There the Bedouin pitches his tent, and remains till the
scanty product is consumed ; and then packs up his house
hold goods, and seeks another pasture-ground. The Bed
ouins are essentially a pastoral people ; their only ricjies
are their flocks and herds, their home is in the wide desert,
and they have no local attachments ; to-day they pitch their
tent among the mountains, to-morrow in the plain ; and
wherever they plant themselves for the time, all that they
have on earth, wife, children, and friends, are immediately
around them. In fact, the life of the Bedouin, his appear
ance and habits, are precisely the same as those of the pa
triarchs of old. Abraham himself, the first of the patriarchs,
was a Bedouin, and four thousand years have not made the
slightest alteration in the character and habits of this ex
traordinary people. Read of the patriarchs in the Bible, and
it is the best description you can havQ of pastoral life in the
East at the present day.
The woman whom we had pursued belonged to the tent of
a Bedouin not far from our road, but completely hidden from
our view ; and, when overtaken by Toualeb, she recognised
in him a friend of her tribe, and in the same spirit, and al
most in the same words which would have been used by
her ancestors four thousand years ago, she asked us to her
tent, and promised us a lamb or a kid for supper. Her hus
band was stretched on the ground in front of his tent, and
welcomed us with an air and manner that belonged to the

A PATRIARCHAL FEAST. 13
desert, but which a king on his throne could not have ex
celled. He was the imbodied personification of all my
conceptions of a patriarch. A large loose frock, a striped
handkerchief on his head, bare legs, sandals on his feet,
and a long white beard, formed the outward man. Almost
immediately after we were seated he took his shepherd's
crook, and, assisted by his son, selected a lamb from the
flock for the evening meal ; and now I would fain prolong
the illusion of this pastoral scene. To stop atthe door of an
Arab's tent, and partake with him of a lamb or kid prepared
by his hospitable hands, all sitting together on the ground,
and provided with no other implements than those which Na
ture gave us, is a picture of primitive and captivating simpli
city ; but the details were such as to destroy for ever all
its poetry, and take away all relish for patriarchal feasts.
While we were taking coffee the lamb lay bleating in our
ears, as if conscious of its coming fate. The coffee drunk
and the pipe smoked, our host arose and laid his hand upon
the victim ; the long sword which he wore over his shoulder
was quickly drawn ; one man held the head and another
the hind legs ; and, with a rapidity almost inconceivable, it
was killed and dressed, and its smoking entrails, yet curling
with life, were broiling on the fire.
I was the guest of the evening, and had no reason to
complain of the civility of my entertainer ; for, with the air
of a well-bred host, and an epicure to boot, he drew from
the burning coals one of the daintiest pieces, about a yard
and a half in length, and rolling one end between the palms
of his hands to a tapering point, broke oflT about a foot and
handed it to me. Now I was by no means dainty. I could
live upon the coarsest fare, and all the little luxuries of
tables, knives and forks, were of very little moment in my
estimation. I was prepared to go full length in this patri
archal feast. But my indifference was not proof against
the convivial elegances of my Bedouin companions ; and
Vol. n.— B

14 INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL.
as I saw yard after yard disappear, like long strings of mac
aroni, down their capacious throats, I was cured of all poet
ical associations and my appetite together.
In the tent of the Arabian patriarch, woman, the pride, the
ornament, and the charm of domestic life, is the mere
household drudge. In vain may one listen for her light
footstep, or look to find her by the side of her natural lord,
giving a richer charm to the hospitality he is extending to
a stranger. It would repay one for much of the toil and
monotony of a journey in the desert, if, when by chance he
found himself at a Bedouin tent, he could be greeted by her
sunny smile. Dark and swarthy as she is, and poor and
ignorant, it would pay the traveller for many a weary hour
to receive his welcome from the lips of an Arabian girl.
But this the customs of the tribes forbid. When the stran
ger approaches the woman retires ; and so completely is
she accustomed to this seclusion, that, however closely he
may watch, he can never catch her even peeping at him
from behind a screen or partition of the tent; curiosity,
which in civilized life is so universally imputed to the
daughters of Eve, seems entirely unknown to the sex in
this wild region. Nor is this the worst of her lot. Even
when alone the wife of the Bedouin is not regarded as his
equal ; the holy companionship of wedded life has between
them no existence. Even when no guest is present, she
never eats with him. I have seen the father and sons sit
down together, and when they had withdrawn from the
tent, the mother and daughters came in to what was left.
Away, then, with all dreams of superior happiness in this
more primitive condition of society. Captivating as is the
wild idea of roving abroad at will, unfettered by the re
straints of law or of conventional observances, the mean
est tenant of a log hut in our western prairies has sources
of happiness which the wandering Arab can never know. A
spirit of perfect weariness and dissatisfaction with the world

HOSPITALITY OF THE ARABS 15
might drive a man to the desert, and, after having fallen into
the indolent and mere animal habits of savage life, he might
find it difficult to return to the wholesome restraints and
duties of society ; but I am satisfied that it is sheer affec
tation or ignorance, in which a member of the civilized
family sighs, or pretends to sigh, for the imagined delights
of an untried freedom. For my own part, I had long been
satisfied of this truth, and did not need the cumulative evi
dence of my visit to the Bedouin's tent. He would have
had me sleep under its shelter ; but I knew that in all the
Bedouin tents there were multitudes of enemies to rest ;
creatures that murder sleep ; and I preferred the solitude
of my own.
One word as to the hospitality of the Arabs. I had read
beautiful descriptions of its manifestation, and in some way
or other had gathered up the notion that the Bedouin would
be offended by an offer to reward his hospitality with a
price ; but, feeling naturally anxious not to make a blunder
on either side of a question so delicate, I applied to my
guide Toualeb for information on the subject. His answer
was brief and explicit. He said there was no obligation to
give or pay, it being the custom of the Bedouins (among
friendly tribes) to ask the wayfaring man into his tent, give
him food and shelter, and send him on his way in the morn
ing ; that I could give or not, as I pleased ; but that, if I did
not, the hospitable host would wish his lamb alive again ;
and from the exceeding satisfaction with which that estima
ble person received my parting gift, I am very sure that in
this instance, at least, I did better in taking Toualeb's
knowledge of his people for my guide than I should have
done by acting upon what I had read in books. It may be
that, if I had gone among them poor and friendless, 1 should
have been received in the same manner, and nothing would
have been expected or received from me ; but I am inclined
to think, from what I saw afterward, that in such case J;he

16 INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL.
lamb would have been spared for a longer term of existence,
and the hospitality confined to a dip into the dish and a mat
at the door of the tent.
Early in the morning we left the tent of our Bedouin
landlord. We were still among mountains ; at every mo
ment a new view presented itself, wild, fanciful, and pic
turesque ; and in the distance was still visible the long
range of dark mountains bordering the Red Sea. Our course
was now directly for this sea, but the mountain range ap
peared so contiguous and unbroken that there seemed no
way of getting to it but by crossing their rugged summits.
There was a way, however ; an opening which we could
not distinguish at so great a distance, and for some time
Toualeb was at a loss. He was so purblind that he could
scarcely distinguish me from one of his dark companions,
yet he could read the firmament like a book, and mark the
proportion of the almost shapeless mountains ; but he was
uncertain how to hit precisely the opening by which we
must pass through. There was no danger of our losing
ourselves, and the only hazard was that of wasting a day in
the search ; but, fortunately, at the commencement of our
perplexity, we came upon a Bedouin whose ter.t was at the
foot of the mountain ; and, under his instructions, we pushed
on with confidence and ultimate success.

WILDERNESS 'OF SINAI. 17

CHAPTER II.
Evening Amusements.— A Trial of the Feelings.— A Disappointment.— A
Santon of the Desert.— An Arab Fisherman.— Turkish Costume —A po
tent Official.— A Comfortless Sick-room.— A Visit from the Sheik.— In
terested Friendship.— Akaba.— The El Alouins.-Questionable Piety.
It was late in the afternoon when our little caravan en
tered the narrow opening, presenting itself like a natural
door between precipitous rocks several hundred feet in
height. Passing this, and continuing onward to a vast am
phitheatre, or hollow square of lofty rocks, through a larger
opening on our left, we again saw the dark waters of the
Red Sea. About midway across I dismounted from my
dromedary to survey the scene around me ; and, among the
many of high interest presented to the traveller in the wil
derness of Sinai, I remember none more striking and im
pressive. It was neither so dreary and desolate, nor so
wild and terrible as others I had seen, but different from
all. The door by which we entered was undistinguishable,
the rocks in the background completely closing it to the
sight ; on all sides except towards the sea, and forming al
most a perfect square, were the naked faces of the rock, lofty,
smooth, and regular, like the excavated sides of an ancient
quarry, and quiet to that extraordinary and indescribable de
gree of which 1 have already spoken. Descending towards
the opening that led to the sea, directly under us was an ex
tensive and sandy plain, reaching to its very margin ; and
nearly opposite, rising abruptly from the clear waters, a
long unbroken range of stern and rugged mountains, their
dark irregular outline finely contrasted with the level sur-
B2

18 INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL.
face at their feet, while the sea itself extended on the right
and left as far as the eye could reach in that clear atmo
sphere ; but the first stage of my journey, the head of the
gulf, and the little fortress of Akaba, were still invisible.
We rode about an hour along the shore, passing at a dis
tance the tents of some Bedouins ; and, about ^n hour be
fore dark, encamped in a grove of wild palm-trees, so near
the sea that the waves almost reached the door of my tent.
When the moon rose 1 walked for an hour along the shore,
and, musing upon the new scenes which every day was
presenting me, picked up some shells and bits of coral as
memorials of the place. . I am no star-gazer, but I had
learned to look up at the stars ; and though I knew most of
them merely by si^ht, I felt an attraction towards them as
faces I had seen at home ; while the Great Bear with his
pointers, and the North Star, seemed my particular friends.
Returning to my tent, 1 found my Bedouins, with some
strangers from the tents which we had passed, sitting round
a fire of the branches of palm-trees, smoking, and telling
stories as extravagant as any in the Arabian Nights' Enter
tainments. I sat down with them a few moments, then en
tered my tent and lay down on my mat on the very shore
of the sea, and was lulled to sleep by the gentle murmur of
its waters.
In the morning Paul told me that there was a strange
Arab outside, who wanted to see me. When we first came
down from the mountain on the preceding day, a Bedouin
had come out and requested me to turn aside and visit a sick
man in his tent. In their perfect ignorance of the healing
art, the Arabs believe every stranger to be a hakim ; and
so great is their confidence in the virtue of medicine, and
so great their indifference to the hands from which they
receive it, that the path of the traveller is constantly beset
with applications from the sick or their friends. I had been
so often besought and entreated to cure blindness, deafness

A TRIAL OF THE FEELINGS. 19
and other maladies beyond even the reach of medical skill,
that now I paid little attention to such applications ; and
when this last request was made, after inquiring into the
symptoms of the case, I told the messenger that I could do
the sick man no good, and passed on. This morning Paul
told me that the patient himself had come over during the
night, and was then at the door, begging me to cure him.
Paul had told him of my utter inability, but he would not
be satisfied ; and when I went out of my tent he was sitting
directly before the door, a thin, ghastly figure ; and opening
his mouth and attempting an inarticulate jabber, there fell
out a tongue so festered to the very throat, that the sight of
it made me sick. I told him that it was utterly out of my
power to help him ; that I knew no more of the healing art
than he did himself; and that the only advice I could give
him was to endeavour to get to Cairo and put himself under
the hands of a physician. I shall never forget the poor
fellow's look, and almost blamed myself for not giving him
some simple preparation, which might have cheated him,
at least for a few days, with the hope that he might escape
the tomb to which he was hurrying. His hands fell lifeless
by his side, as if he had heard a sentence of death ; he gave
me a look which seemed to say that it was all my fault, and
fell senseless on the ground. His two companions lifted
him up ; his faithful dromedary kneeled to receive him ;
and, as he turned away, he cast a reproachful glance to
wards me, which made me almost imagine myself guilty of
his death. I have no doubt that, long before this, the poor
Arab is dead, and that in his dying moments, when strug
gling with the king of terrors, he has seen, in his distracted
visions, the figure of the hard-hearted stranger, who, as he
thought, might have saved him, but would not.
Anxious to escape an object so painful to my feelings, I
walked on, and was soon busily engaged in picking up shells
and coral ; of the former I never saw so many as at this

20 INCIDENTS OP TRAVEL.
place. Some were particularly beautiful, but exceedingly
dehcate, and difficult to be carried. The first day I could
have loaded a camel with them. The coral, too, such as
it was, lay scattered about in lavish profusion. I remem
ber, the first piece Paul found, he rubbed his hands like the
toiling and untiring alchymist, when he thinks he has dis
covered the philosopher's stone ; but when he came to a
second he threw away the first, in the same spirit in which
the Irishman, on his arrival in our country, the El Dorado
of his dreams, threw down a sixpence which he had picked
up in the street, assuring himself that there was more where
that came from. Some of this coral was exceedingly beau
tiful ; we did not know its value, but 1 did not think very
highly of it, merely from the circumstance of its lying there
in such abundance. It was not the rock or branch coral,
but a light porous substance, resembling very much the
honeycomb. Paul gathered a large quantity of it, and con
trived to carry it to Jerusalem, though it got very much bro
ken on the way. He had the satisfaction of knowing, how
ever, that he had not sustained any great loss ; for, on our
first visit to the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, we found
in the porch a green-turbaned Mussulman, who, return
ing from his pilgrimage to Mecca, had thought to indem
nify himself for the expense and fatigue of his long and
dreary journey with this treasure of the sea. Paul took
up a large piece^and asked him the price, when the Mus
sulman, with an air as dejected in telling as was that
of Paul in hearing it, told him two paras, a para being
about one eighth of a cent ; and the next day I saw before
the door of the convent at which we were staying a large
heap of the coral which Paul had been so careful in carry
ing ; and after that he talked only of his shells, the value
of which was not yet ascertained.
At about twelve o'clock, close by the shore, we came to
a Stunted wild palm-tree, with a small stone fence around

A SANTON OF THE DESERT. 21
it ; and, looking down from my dromedary, I saw extend
ed on the ground the figure of an Arab. I at first thought
he was dead ; but, at the noise of our approach, he raised
his head from a stone which served him as a pillow, and
the first greeting he gave us was to ask for bread. Among
all the habitations of hermits I had yet seen, in caves,
among rocks or mountains, there was none which could be
compared with this by the shore of the sea ; a small fence,
but little higher than his recumbent body, protected him
from the wind ; the withered branches of the palm-tree
were his only covering ; his pillow a stone, and the bare
earth his bed ; and when he crawled out and stood before
us, erect as age and infirmity would allow, I thought I had
never seen such a miserable figure. I could not have be
lieved, without seeing it, that anything so wretched, made
in God's image, existed on the earth. He was more than
sixty ; his face was dried, and seamed with the deep
wrinkles of age and exposure ; his beard long and white ;
and his body thin to emaciation. Over his shoulders and
breast was a miserable covering of rags, but the rest of his
body was perfectly naked ; his skin was dry, horny, and
covered with blotches resembling large scales, which, on
his legs, and particularly over his knees, stood out like the
greaves of an ancient coat of mail ; and he looked like one
who literally crawled on his belly and licked the dust of
the earth. He reminded me of the wild hermit of Engaddi,
who came out upon the Saracen emir when he journeyed
with the Knight of the Leopard on the shore of the Dead
Sea. And this man was a saint, and my Arabs looked on
him with respect and reverence ; and when he died a pub
lic tomb would be erected over him, and they upon whose
charity he now lived would resort to it as a shrine of
prayer. We gave him some bread, and left him in his sol
itary den; and, before we had got out of sight, he had
crawled back under his palm-leaves, and was again resting

22 INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL
upon his pillow of stone. In our busy and stirring world,
we cannot imagine the possibility of existing in such a dro-
nish state ; but, in all probability, that man would lie there
till the bread we gave him was exhausted, and, when he
had taken his last morsel, again lie down in hope that more
would come.
About an hour afterward we came upon a fisherman
stealing along the shore with his net in his hand, looking
into the sea, and ready to throw it when he saw any fish.
The process, like everything else that one sees here, is
perfectly primitive, and carries the beholder back to the
early days of this ancient country. Carrying the net on his
left arm crooked, cleared and prepared for a throw, with the
one end in his right hand, and taking advantage of ripples
made by the wind, and the sun throwing his shadow behind
him, he runs along the shore until he sees a school of fish,
M'hen, with a gentle jerk, and without any noise, he throws
his net, which opens and spreads as it falls, so that a little
thing, which could be put easily into a hat, expands suffi
ciently to cover a surface of twenty or thirty feet. While
running along with us he threw several times ; and, as he
managed his craft with skill, never throwing until he saw
something, he was always successful. I could not make
anything out of the Arabic name of the fish ; but I have
the flavour of them still on my tongue ; a flavour at the mo
ment finer than that of the sole or turbot of Paris, or the
trout of Long Island.
In the afternoon the weather changed. Since we first
struck the sea, our road along its shore had been one of un
common beauty, and my time passed very pleasantly, some
times allowing my dromedary to cool his feet in the clear
water, sometimes dismounting to pick up a shell, and all the
time having a warm sun and a refreshing breeze ; but it was
my fortune to see this ancient country under every hue of
the changing elements. The sun was now obscured; a

-u -ii-vc '-:a_v;'.~(^;-- c^uko with fi_stol s ^- saj-jke

TonriATS

/¦'/,.>. .^5

TURKISH COSTUME. 23
Strong wind came down the sea directly in our teeth ; the
head of the gulf was cut off from our view ; the sea was
troubled, and the white caps were dancing on its surface ;
the dark mountains looked darker and more lonely ; while
before us a rainbow was forming over the point of Akaba,
which threw itself across the gulf to the east, marking in
the firmament, with its rich and varied colours, the figure of
the crescent. Soon after we were in the midst of a perfect
hurricane. Several times during the day I had wished to
float upon the bosom of the tranquil sea, and had looked in
vain for some boat or fisherman's skiff" to carry me up the
gulf; but I now shrank from the angry face of the deep, and,
under the shelter of an impending rock, listened to the fierce
whistling of the wind and the crashing of the thunder
among the mountains.
In the morning the storm was over, and the atmosphere
pure, clear, and refreshing as before ; but, as a set-off" to the
pleasure of returning sunshine, Toualeb told me that we had
passed the boundaries of the friendly tribes, and that we
must look to our weapons, for we were now among stran
gers, and perhaps enemies. Here, too, for the first time, 1
put on my Turkish dress, being that of a merchant of Cairo,
with the addition of pistols and sabre ; but, fearful of taking
cold, I cut down an old coat and tied up a pair of pantaloons,
so as to have a complete suit under the large white trousers
and red silk gown which formed the principal items of my
dress. The red tarbouch I had worn ever sijice I had been in
Egypt ; but I now rolled round it a green and yellow striped
nandkerchief, to which Toualeb gave the proper twist ; and,
with my yellow slippers and red shoes over them, sash,
pistols, sword, and long beard, 1 received the congratula
tions and compliments of my friends upon my improved ap
pearance. Indeed, I played the Turk well. Diff"erent from iny
notions of the appearance of the Turk, they have generally
light and florid complexions ; and, if I could have talked

24 INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL.
their language, dressed as a Turk, they could not Jiave
judged from my appearance that I had ever been outside the
walls of old Stamboul. There is no exaggeration in the
unanimous reports of travellers of the efiieci which the cos
tumes of the East give to personal appearance ; and, having
seen and known it even in my own person, I am inclined to
believe that there is fallacy in the equally prevalent opinion
of the personal beauty of the Turks. Their dress com
pletely hides all deformity of person, and the variety of
colours, the arms and the long beard, divert the attention of
the observer from a close examination of features. The
striking efli'ect of costume is strongly perceptible in the sol
diers of the sultan, and the mongrel, half European uniform
in which he has put them, and in which they are not by any
means an uncommonly fine-looking set of men. These
soldiers are taken wherever they are caught, and, conse
quently, are a fair specimen of the Turkish race ; and any
English regiment will turn out finer men than the best in
the sultan's army. Following ray example, Paul also slipped
into his Bedouin shirt, and could hardly be distinguished
from the best Arab of them all.
Again our road lay along the shore, so near that some
times we had to dismount and pick our way over the rocks,
and at others our dromedaries bathed their feet in the water.
In one place the side of the mountain rose so directly and
abruptly from the water's edge, that we had to turn aside
and pass around, it, coming again to the shore after about
an hour's ride. Here we saw the gulf narrowing towards
its extremity ; and on the opposite side a cluster of palm-
trees, within which, and completely hidden from view, was
the end of our first stage, the fortress of Akaba. Never was
the sight of one of the dearest objects on earth, home to
the wanderer, land to the sailor, or a mistress to the lover,
more welcome than the sight of those palm-trees to me.
The malady under which I had been labouring had grown

A POTENT OFFICIAL. 25
upon me every day ; and, in spite of all that was rich and
interesting, time after time I had regretted my rashness in
throwing myself so far into the desert. The repose, there
fore, which awaited me at Akaba seemed the most precious
thing on earth.
Towards evening we • could see Akaba more distinctly,
though still on the opposite side of the gulf, and still at a
formidable distance to me. A brisk trot would have carried
me there in an hour ; but this was more than I could bear,
supported as I was by a mattress on each- side of me, and
barely able to sustain the slow and measured movement of
a walk. Night was again coming on, and heavy clouds
were gathering in the east. I was extremely anxious to
sleep within the fortress that night ; and, fearful that a stran
ger would not be admitted after dark, I sent Paul on ahead
with my compliments to the governor, and the modest re
quest that he would keep the gates open till I came.
A governor is a governor all the world over. Honour
and respect attend him wherever he may be ; whether the
almost regal governor-general of India, the untitled chief
magistrate of our own democratic state, or the governor of a
little fortress on the shores of the Red Sea. But there are
some governors one may take a liberty with, and others
not ; and of the former class was my friend of Akaba. His
name was Suliman, his title aga, and therefore he was called
Suliman Aga. He had his appointment by favour of the
pacha, and permission to retain it by favour of the Bedouins
around ; he had under him nominally a garrison of Mogreb-
bin soldiers,but they were as restiff"as some of ourown unbro
ken militia ; and, like many a worthy disciplinarian among
us, he could do just as he pleased with them if he only let
them have their own way. He was, in short, an excellent
governor, and I gave him two dollars and a recommendation
at parting.
But I am going too fast, I arrived before dark, and in
Vol. II.— C

26 INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL.
such a state that I almost fell from my dromedary in dis
mounting at the gate of the fortress. The first glance told
me that this was not the place of rest I had promised my
self. Half a dozen Mogrebbins from the shores of Morocco,
the most tried and faithful of the hired troops of the pacha,
were sitting on a mat within the gate, smoking their long
pipes, with their long guns, swords, and pistols hanging
above their heads. They rose and gave me a seat beside
them, and the whole of the little population of the fortress,
and the Bedouins living under the palm-trees outside, gath
ered around to gaze at the stranger. The great caravan of
pilgrims for Mecca had left them only three days before ;
and, except upon the passing and return of the caravan,
years pass by without a stranger ever appearing at the for
tress. They had heard of my coming, for the sheik had
waited two days after the departure of the caravan, and had
only gone that morning, leaving directions with the governor
to send for him as soon as I arrived. 1 was somewhat-sur
prised at his confidence in my coming, for, when 1 saw him,
I was very far from being decided ; but in the miserable
condition in which 1 found myself, I hailed it as a favoura
ble omen. The governor soon came, and was profuse in
his off"ers of service, beginning, of course, with coffiee and a
pipe, which I was forced to decline, apologizing on the
ground of my extreme indisposition, and begged to be con
ducted to a room by myself. The governor rose and con
ducted me, and every Bedouin present followed after ; and
when I came to the room by myself, I had at least forty of
them around me. Once Paul prevailed on some of them to
go out ; but they soon came back again, and I was too ill to
urge the matter.
The very aspect of the room into which I was shown
prostrated the last remains of my physical strength. It was
eighty or a hundred feet long, forty feet wide, and about as
many high, having on one side a dead wall, being that of

A COMFORTLESS SICK-ROOM. 27
the fortress, and on the other two large windows without
shutters and the door ; the naked floor was of mud, and so
were the walls and ceiling. I looked for one spot less
cheerless than the rest ; and finding at the upper end a place
where the floor was elevated about a foot, with a feeling of
despondency I have seldom known, I stretched my mattress
in the extreme corner, and, too far gone to have any regard
to the presence of the governor or his Arab soldiers, threw
myself at full length upon it. I was sick in body and soul ;
for, besides the actual and prostrating debility under which
I was labouring, I had before me the horrible certainty that
I was completely cut: off" from all medical aid, and from all
the comforts which a sick man wants. I was ten days from
Cairo ; to go there in person was impossible ; and, if I should
send, I could not obtain the aid of a physician in less than
twenty-five or thirty days, if at all ; and before that I might
be past his help. When I left Cairo Dr. Walne had set me
up, so that I held out tolerably well until I reached Mount
Sinai ; and, moreover, had given me sundry medicines,
with directions for their use under particular circumstances ;
but my symptoms had so completely changed, that the di
rections, if not the medicines themselves, were entirely use
less. In a spirit of desperation, however, I took them out ;
and, not knowing where to begin, resolved to go through the
whole catalogue in such order as chance might direct. I
began with a double dose of cathartic powders ; and, while
lying on my mat, I was diverted from the misery of my own
gloomy reflections by the pious conversation of the Mussul
man governor. If God willed, he said, I would soon get
well ; himself and his wife had been ill three months, and
had no physician, but God willed that they should recover,
and they did ; and as I looked in his believing face and
those of the Bedouins, I found myself gradually falling
into the fatalism of their creed. I shall never forget the
manner in which I passed that night, and the sombre fan^

28 INCIDENTS or TRAVEL,
cies that chased each other through my brain. A single
lamp threw a. dim and feeble light through the large apart
ment, scarcely revealing the dusky forms of the sleeping
Bedouins, with their weapons by their sides, and I was the
only one awake. Busy memory called up all the consider
ations that ought to have prevented my taking such a jour
ney, and the warning voice of my friend at Cairo, "turn
your steps westward," again rang in my ears. I saw the
figure of the dead Tartar at Suez, like me, a wanderer from
home, and buried by strangers in the sandy desert ; and so
nervous and desponding had I become, that the words of the
prophet in regard to the land of Idumea, " none shall pass
through it for ever and ever," struck upon my heart like a
funeral knell. I was now upon the borders of Edom ; and,
in the despondency of sickness, I looked upon myself as
rash and impious in undertaking what might be considered
a defiance of the prophetic denunciations inspired by God
himself. In the morning I was worse ; and, following up my al
most desperate plan of treatment, commenced the day with
a double emetic. The governor came in ; and though I
tried to keep the door shut, another and another followed,
till my room was as public as any part of the fortress. In
deed, it was by far the most public, for all the rest was
stripped of its bronzed figures to ornament my room. An
noyed to death by seeing twenty or thirty pairs of fiery
black eyes constantly fixed upon me, I remembered, with
feelings of envy, my tent in the desert. There I could at
least be alone, and I resolved, at all hazards, not to pass
another night in the fortress.
In the midst of my exceeding perplexities, the sheik ot
Akaba, my friend of Cairo, made his appearance. I was
in a pitiable condition when he entered, under the immedi
ate operation of my emetic, with the whole of the Mogreb-
biil guard and every beggarly Bedouin about the fortress

A VISIT FROM THE SHEIK. 29
staring at me. He looked surprised and startled when he
saw me ; but, with a glimmering of good sense, though, as
I thought, with unnecessary harshness, told me that I would
die if 1 stayed there, and that he was ready to set out with
me at a moment's notice. By the advice of' Mr. Gliddon,
my plan had been to make this my place of negotiation and
arrangement, and not to proceed farther without having all
things definitely explained and settled. But I was in no
condition to negotiate, and was ready to do anything to get
away from the fortress. He was exceedingly anxious to
start immediately, and gave me a piece of information that
almost lifted me from the ground ; namely, that he could
provide me with a horse of the best blood of Arabia for the
whole of the journey. He could not have given me more
grateful intelligence, for the bare idea of again mounting my
dromedary deprived me of all energy and strength. I had
endeavoured to procure a sort of palanquin, to be swung
between two camels ; but so destitute was the fortress of
all kinds of material, that it was impossible to make it
When he spoke to me, then, of a horse, it made me a new
man ; and, without a moment's hesitation, I told him that if
he would give me till five o'clock in the afternoon, I would
be ready to set out with him. One thing I did not like. I
wished and designed to take with me my faithful Toualeb ;
but he had told me that he did not believe that the El
Alouins would allow it; and, when he spoke to the sheik,
the latter had positively refused, pretending that all was
arranged between us at Cairo. I was fain, therefore, to
abandon the idea, not having energy to insist upon anything
that was disputed, and to trust everything to fortune and
the sheik. I told Paul to do all that was necessary ; and,
begging to be left alone for a few hours, I laid myself down
upon my mat, and, worn out with the watching of the last
night, and the excitement of thinking and deciding on my
future movements, quickly fell asleep.
C2

30 INCIDENTS OP TRAVEL.
At five o'clock the sheik returned, punctual to his appoint
ment ; I had slept soundly, and awoke somewhat refreshed.
The room was again filled with the Bedouins, and I was as
ready to go as he was to take me. He had ordered what
was necessary upon the journey for man and beast, and
provisions for six camels and ten men for ten days. I gave
Paul my purse, and told him to pay, and, walking to the
gate of the fortress, a dozen Arabs helped me to my sad
dle ; they would have taken me up in their arms and carried
me, and, when I had mounted, they would have taken up
the horse and carried him too, so great a friendship had
they already conceived for me. But the friendship was
not for what I was, but for what I had. They had wel
comed me as they would have welcomed a bag of gold ;
and I had scarcely mounted before they all, governor, Mo-
grebbin soldiers, and Bedouins, began to clamour for buck-
sheesh. Ten years before, M. Laborde had passed along
this route, and stopped at the fortress while waiting for the
sheik who was to guide and protect him to Petra ; and hav
ing in view the purpose of preparing the great work which
has since given him such merited reputation, he had scat
tered money and presents with a most liberal hand. M.
Laborde himself was not personally known to any of those
now at the fortress ; but his companion, Mr. Linant, of
whom I have before spoken, was known to them all ; and
they all had heard of the gold shower in which M. Laborde
appeared among them. They therefore expected the same
from me ; and, when Paul had got through his distribution,
I was startled at perceiving the dissatisfied air with which
they received a bucksheesh that would have overwhelmed
any other Arabs with joy and gratitude.
But I must not hurry the reader from Akaba with the
same eagerness which I displayed in leaving it. This lit
tle fortress is seldom visited by travellers, and it is worth a
brief description. It stands at the extremity of the eastern

AKABA. 31
or Elanitic branch of the Red Sea, at the foot of the sand
stone mountains, near the shore, and almost buried in a
grove of palm-trees, the only living things in that region of
barren sands. It is the last stopping-place of the caravan
of pilgrims on its way to Mecca, being yet thirty days'
journey from the tomb of the Prophet, and, of course, the
first at which they touch on their return. Except at the
time of these two visits, the place is desolate from the be
ginning of the year to its close ; the arrival of a traveller is
of exceedingly rare occurrence, and seldom does even the
wandering Bedouin stop within its walls ; no ship rides in
its harbour, and not even a solitary fishing-boat breaks the
stillness of the water at its feet. But it was not always so
desolate, for this was the Ezion-geber of the Bible, where,
three thousand years ago, King Solomon made a navy of
ships, which brought from Ophir gold and precious stones
for the great temple at Jerusalem ; and again, at a later
day, a great city existed here, through which, at this dis
tant point in the wilderness, the wealth of India was con
veyed to imperial Rome. But all these are gone, and there
are no relics or monuments to tell of former greatness ; like
the ships which once floated in the harbour, all have passed
away. Still, ruined and desolate as it is, to the eye of feel
ing the little fortress is not without its interest ; for, as the
governor told me, it was built by the heroic Saladin.
I had taken leave of my trusty Toualeb, and was again
in the hands of strangers ; and I do not deceive myself when
I say,, that on the very borders of Edom I noticed a change
for the worse in the appearance of the Bedouins. Accord
ing to the reports of travellers and writers, those with whom
I now set out from Akaba belonged to one of the most law
less tribes of a lawless race ; and they were by far the
wildest and fiercest-looking of all I had yet seen; with
complexions bronzed and burnt to blackness ; dark eyes,
glowing with a fire approaching to ferocity ; figures thin and

32 INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL.
shrunken, though sinewy ; chests standing out, and ribs
projecting from the skin, like those of a skeleton. The
sheik, like myself, was on horseback, dressed in a red silk
gown like my own, and over it a large cloak of scarlet
cloth, both the gifts of Messieurs Linant and Laborde ; a
red tarbouch with a shawl rolled round it, long red boots,
and a sash ; and carried pistols, a sword^ and a spear about
twelve feet long, pointed with steel at both ends ; his broth
er, too, wore a silk gown, and carried pistols and sword,
and the rest were armed with swords and matchlock guns,
and wore the common Bedouin dress ; some of them al
most no dress at all. We had moved some distance from
the fortress without a word being uttered, for they neither
spoke to me nor with each other. I was in no humour for
talking myself, but it was unpleasant to have more than a
dozen men around, all bending their keen eyes upon me,
and not one of them uttering a word. With a view to
making some approach to acquaintance, and removing their
jealousy of me as a stranger, I asked some casual question
about the road ; but I might better have held my peace, for
it seemed that I could not well have hit upon a subject more
displeasing. My amiable companions looked as black as
midnight, and one of them, a particularly swarthy and trucu
lent-looking fellow, turned short round, and told me that I
had too much curiosity, and that he did not understand what
right a Christian had to come there and hunt up their vil
lages, take down their names, &c. But the sheik came in
as mediator, and told them that I was a good man ; that he
had been to my house in Cairo, and that I was no spy ; and
so this cloud passed off". I did not mean to go far that after
noon, for I had left the fortress merely to get rid of the
crowd, and return to fresh air and quiet ; and in less than an
hour I again pitched my tent in the desert. Finding plenty
of brush, we kindled a large fire, and all sat down around
it. It was a great object with me to establish myself on a

QUESTIONABLE PIETY. 33
good footing with my companions at the outset ; and, more
fortunate on my second attempt, before one round of coff"ee
and pipes was over, the sheik turned to me, and, with all
the extravagance of Eastern hyperbole, said he thanked
God for having permitted us again to see each other's face,
and that I had been recovering since I saw his face ; and,
turning his eyes to heaven, with an expression of deep and
confiding piety, he added, " God grant that you may soon
become a strong man ;" and then the others all took their
pipes from their mouths, and, turning up their eyes to
heaven, the whole band of breechless desperadoes added,
" WuUah— Wullah," " God grant it."

34 INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL.

CHAPTER III.
Prophecy and Fulfilment.— Unpleasant Suggestions. — The Denounced
Land. — Management. — A Rencounter. — An Arab's Cunning. — The Cam
el's Hump.- Adventure with a Lamb.— Mount Hor. — Delicate Negotia
tions. — Approach to Petra.
I HAD now crossed the borders of Edom. Standing near
the shore of the Elanitic branch of the Red Sea, the doomed
and accursed land lay stretched out before me, the theatre
of awful visitations and their more awful fulfilment ; given
to Esau as being of the fatness of the earth, but now a bar
ren waste, a picture of death, an eternal monument of the
wrath of an off"ended God, and a fearful witness to the truth
of the words spoken by his prophets. " For my sword
shall be bathed in heaven : behold, it shall come down upon
Idumea, and upon the people of my curse, to judgment."
" From generation to generation it shall lie waste ; none
shall pass through it for ever and ever. But the cormorant
and the bittern shall possess it ; the owl also and the raven
shall dv/ell in it ; and he shall stretch out upon it the line
of confusion and the stones of emptiness. They shall call
the nobles thereof to the kingdom, but none shall be there,
and all her princes shall be nothing. And thorns shall
come up in her palaces, nettles and brambles in the for
tresses thereof : and it shall be a habitation of dragons, and
a court for owls. The wild beasts of the desert shall also
meet with the wild beasts of the island, and the satyr shall
cry to his fellow : the screech-owl also shall rest there, and
find for herself a place of rest. There shall the great owl
make her nest, and lay, and hatch, and gather under her

PROPHECY AND FULFILMENT. 35
shadow : there shall the vultures also be gathered, every
one with her mate. Seek ye out the book of the Lord, and
read : no one of these shall fail, none shall want her mate :
for my mouth it hath commanded, and his spirit it hath
gathered them. And he hath cast the lot for them, and his
hand hath divided it unto them by line : they shall possess
it for ever; from generation to generation shall they dwell
therein." — Isaiah xxxiv.
I read in the sacred book prophecy upon prophecy and
curse upon curse against the very land on which 1 stood.
I was about to journey through this land, and to see with my
own eyes whether the Almighty had stayed his uplifted
arm, or whether his sword had indeed come down "upon
Idumea, and the people of his curse, to judgment." I have
before referred to Keith on the Prophecies, where, in illus
trating the fulfilment of the prophecies against Idumea,
" none shall pass through it for ever and ever," after refer
ring to the singular fact that the great caravan routes exist
ing in the days of David and Solomon, and under the Ro
man empire, are now completely broken up, and that the
great hadji routes to Mecca from Damascus and Cairo lie
along the borders of Idumea, barely touching and not pass
ing through it, he proves by abundant references that to
this day no traveller has ever passed through the land.
The Bedouins who roam over the land of Idumea have
been described by travellers as the worst of their race.
" The Arabs about Akaba," says Pococke, " are a very bad
people and notorious robbers, and are at war with all
others." Mr. Joliff"e alludes to it as one of the wildest and
most dangerous divisions of Arabia ; and Burckhardt says,
" that for the first time he had ever felt fear during his trav
els in the desert, and his route was the most dangerous
he had ever travelled," that he had " nothing with him
that coidd attract the notice or excite the cupidity of the
Bedouins," and was " even stripped of some rags that cov-

36 INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL.
ered his wounded ankles." Messrs. Legh and Banks, and
Captains Irby and Mangles, were told that the Arabs of
Wady Moussa, the tribe that formed my escort, " were a
most savage and treacherous race, and that they would use
their Frank's blood for a medicine ;" and they learned on the
spot that "upward of thirty pilgrims from Barbary had
been murdered at Petra the preceding year by the men of
Wady Moussa ;" and they speak of the opposition and ob
struction from the Bedouins as resembling the case of the
Israelites ' under Moses, when Edom refused to give them
passage through his country. None of these had passed
through it, and unless lhe two Englishmen and Italian
before referred to succeeded in their attempt, when I
pitched my tent on the borders of Edom no traveller had
ever done so. The ignorance and mystery that hung over
it added to the interest with which I looked to the land of
barrenness and desolation stretched out before me ; and I
would have regarded all the difficulties and dangers of the
road merely as materials for a not unpleasant excitement,
if I had only felt a confidence in my physical strength to
carry me through. But some idea may be formed of my
unhappy condition from the circumstance that, in the even
ing, my servant, an honest and faithful fellow, who, I be
lieve, was sincerely attached to me, while I was lying on
my mat, with many apologies, and hoping I would not think
hard of him, and praying that no accident might happen to
me, told me that he was a poor man, and it would be very
hard for him to lose his earnings, and that an English trav
eller had died in Syria the year before, and his consul had
taken possession of his eflTects, and to this day his poor
servant had never received his wages. I at first thought
it unkind of him to come upon me at that moment with
such a suggestion ; but I soon changed my mind. I had
not paid him a cent since he had been with me, and his
earnings were no trifle to him ; and, after all, what was I

UNPLEASANT SUGGESTIONS. 37
to him except a debtor 1 In any event I should leave him
in a few months, and, in all probability, should never see
him again. I told him that he knew the circumstances
under which we had left Cairo ; that I had brought with
me barely enough to pay my expenses on the road ; nor
could I give him what he wanted, an order upon my consul
at Beyrout ; but, after he had gone out, with somewhat the
same feelings that may be supposed to possess a man in
extremis writing his own will, I wrote an order, including
a gratuity which he richly deserved, upon a merchant in
Beyrout, upon whom 1 had a letter of credit ; but the cheer-
lessness and' helplessness of my situation never struck me
so forcibly as when I reflected that, in the uncertain posi
tion in which I was placed, it was not prudent to give it
into his hands. At that moment 1 mistrusted everybody ;
and, though I had not then, nor at any subsequent time, the
slightest reason to doubt his faith, 1 did not dare to let him
know that he could in any event be a gainer by my death.
I considered it necessary to make him suppose that his in
terest was identified with my safety, and therefore folded
up the paper, enclosed it in the letter of credit directed to
the merchant, and put it back in my trunk ; and I need
not say that it was a great satisfaction to me that the valid
ity of the draught was never tested.
When I awoke in the morning, the first thing I thought
of was my horse. It almost made me well to think of him,
and it was not long before I was on his back.
Standing near the shore of this northern extremity of the
Red Sea, I saw before me an immense sandy valley, which,
without the aid of geological science, to the eye of common
observation and reason, had once been the bottom of a sea
or the bed of a river. This dreary valley, extending far be
yond the reach of the eye, had been partly explored by
Burckhardt ; sufficiently to ascertain and mention it in the
latest geography of the country, as the great valley of El
Vol. II— D

38 INCIDENTS OF TRAVEt.
Ghor, extending from the shores of the Elanitic gulf to' the
southern extremity of the Lake Asphaltites or the Dead
Sea ; and it was manifest, by landmarks of Nature's own
providing, that over that sandy plain those seas had once
mingled their waters, or, perhaps more probably, that be
fore the cities of the plain had been consumed by brimstone
and fire, and Sodom and Gomorrah covered by a pestilential
lake, (he Jordan had here rolled its waters. The valley
varied from four to eight miles in breadth, and on each side
were high, dark, and barren mountains, bounding it like a
wall. On the left were the mountains of Judea, and on the
right those of Seir, the portion given to Esau as an in
heritance ; and among them, buried from the eyes of stran
gers, the approach to it known only to the wandering Bed
ouins, was the ancient capital of his kingdom, the excavated
city of Petra, the cursed and blighted Edom of the Edom-
ites. The land of Idumea lay before me, in barrenness
and desolation ; no trees grew in the valley, and no verdure
on the mountain-tops. All was bare, dreary, and desolate.
But the beauty of the weather atoned for this barrenness
of scene ; and, mounted on the back of my Arabian, I felt a
lightness of frame and an elasticity of spirit that I could not
have believed possible in my actual state of health. Pat
ting the neck of the noble animal, I talked with the sheik
about his horse ; and, by warm and honest praises, was rap
idly gaining upon the aff"ections of my wild companions.
The sheik told me that the race of these horses had been in
his family more than four hundred years, though I am in
clined to think, from his not being able to tell his own age,
that he did not precisely know the pedigree of his beasts.
If anything connected with my journey in the East could
throw me into ecstasies, it would be the recollection of that
horse. I felt lifted up when on his back, and snuff'ed the
pure air of the desert with a zest not unworthy of a Bed
ouin. Like all the Arabian horses, he was broken only to

MANAGEMENT. 39
the walk and gallop, the unnatural and ungraceful movement
of a trot being deemed unworthy the free limbs of an Arab
courser. The sheik to-day was more communicative. Indeed, he
became very fond of talking ; suspicious as I was, and on
the watch for anything that might rouse my apprehensions,
I observed that he regularly settled down upon the same
topics, namely, the dangers of the road, the bad character
of the Arabs, his great friendship for me the first moment
he saw me, and his determination to protect me with his
life against all dangers. This was well enough for once or
twice, but he repeated it too often, and overshot the mark,
as 1 did when I first began to recommend myself to them.
I suspected him of exaggerating the dangers of the road to
enhance the value of his services ; and, lest I should enter
tain any doubt upon the subject, he betrayed himself by
always winding up with a reference to the generosity of
Monsieur Linant. The consequence was, that, instead of
inspiring me with fear, he gave me confidence ; and, by the
end of my first day's journey, I had lost nearly all appre
hensions of the dangers of the road, and acquired some dis
trust and contempt for my protector. We were all getting
along very well, however. Paul had been playing a great
game among the men, and, by his superior knowledge of
mankind, easily circumvented these ignorant Bedouins ; and
his Arabic name of " Osman" was constantly in some one's
mouth. I forgot to mention that, very early in my journey
in the desert, my companions, unable to twist my name to
suit their Arabic intonations, had called me Abdel Hasis
(literally, the slave of the good God), and Paul, Osman.
In the evening, while making a note in a little memoran
dum-book, and on the point of lying down to sleep, 1 heard
a d*ep guttural voice at some distance outside, and approach
ing nearer, till the harsh sounds grated as if spoken in my
very ears. My Bedouins were sitting around a large firp

40 INCIDENTS OP TRAVEL.
at the door of the tent, and through the flames I saw coming
up two wild and ferocious-looking Arabs, their dark visages
reddened by the blaze, and their keen eyes flashing ; and
hardly had they reached my men, before all drew their
swords, and began cutting away at each other with all their
might. I did not feel much apprehension, and could not
but admire the boldness of the fellows, two men walking up
deliberately and drawing upon ten. One of the first charges
Toualeb gave me on my entrance into the desert was, if the
Arabs composing my escort got into any quarrel, to keep out
of the way and let them fight it out by themselves ; and, in
pursuance of this advice, without making any attempt to in
terfere, I stood in the door watching the progress of the
fray. The larger of the two was engaged with the sheik's
brother, and their swords were clashing in a way that
would soon have put an end to one of them, when the sheik,
who had been absent at the moment, sprang in among them,
and knocking up their swords with his long spear, while his
scarlet cloak fell from his shoulders, his dark face reddened,
and his black eyes glowed in the firelight, with a voice that
drowned the clatter of the weapons, roared out a volley of
Arabic gutturals which made them drop their points, and
apparently silenced them with shame. What he said we
did not know ; but the result was a general cessation of
hostilities. The sheik's brother had received a cut in the
arm, and his adversary helped to bind up the wound, and
they all sat down together round the fire to pipes and cofl^ee,
as good friends as a party of Irishmen with their heads
broken after a Donnybrook fairing. I had noticed, in this
flurry, the exceeding awkwardness with which they used
their swords, by their overhand blows constantly laying them
selves open, so that any little Frenchman with his toothpick
of a rapier would have run them through before they could
have cried quarter. After the thing was all over, Paul went
out and asked the cause ; but the sheik told him that it was

A RENCOUNTER. 41
an aff"air of their own, and with this satisfactory answer we
Were obliged to rest content.
Though all was now quiet, the elements of discord were
still existing. The new-comer was a ferocious fellow ; his
voice was constantly heard, like the hoarse croaking of
some bird of evil omen, and sometimes it was raised to the
pitch of high and deadly passion. Paul heard him ask if I
was a European, to which the sheik answered no ; I was a
Turk. He then got upon the railroad to Suez, and the poor
benighted Bedouin, completely behind the age in the march
of improvement, having never read Say's Political Economy
or Smith's Wealth of Nations, denounced it .,as an invasion
of the natural rights of the people, and a wicked breaking
up of the business of the camel-drivers. He cursed every
European that ever set foot in their country ; and, speaking
of Mr- Galloway, the engineer of the proposed railroad,
hoped that he might some day meet him, and swore he
would strangle him with his own hands.
In the morning we were again under way. Our quarrel
some friend of the night before was by our side, perched on
the bare back of a dromedary, and, if possible, looking more
grim and savage by daylight. His companion was mounted
behind him, and he kept near the sheik, occasionally cross
ing my path, looking back at me, and croaking in the sheik's
ears as he had done the night before. Two or three times
he crossed my path, as if with the intention of going into
the mountains ; and then, as if he found it impossible to tear
himself away, returned to the sheik. At length he did go,
and with a most discontented and disconsolate air; and
after he had gone, the sheik told us that, when they came
up to the fire, they demanded tribute or bucksheesh from
the stranger passing over the Bedouins' highway ; that his
brother had refused to pay it, which had been the cause of
the quarrel ; and that, when he himself came up, he had told
the demanders of tribute that he had undertaken to protec*
D3

42 INCIDENTS OP TRAVEL.
me from injury through the desert ; that he had given his
head to Mohammed Aly for my safety, and would defend
me with his life against every danger ; but that, finally, he
had pacified them by giving them a couple of dollars apiece.
I did not believe this. They looked too disconsolate when
they went away ; for the four dollars would have made the
hearts of two beggarly Bedouins leap for joy ; and I could
not help asking him if we were obliged to buy our peace
when only two came upon us, what we should do when a
hundred should come ; to which he answered that they
must all be paid, and that it was impossible to pass through
the desert without it.
We got through the day remarkably well, the scene being
always precisely the same ; before us, the long, desolate,
sandy valley, and on each side the still more desolate and
dreary mountains. Towards evening we encamped ; and,
after sitting some time around a fire with my companions,
I entered my tent. Soon after, the sheik, in pursuance of
his pitiful plan of exciting my fears and raising his own
value, sent in for my gun and pistols, telling me that there
were Arabs near ; that he heard the barking of a dog, and
intended to keep watch all night. I had already seen so
much of him, that I knew this was a mere piece of bragga
docio ; and I met it with another, by telling him that no man
could use my pistols better than myself, and that all he had
to do was, upon the first alarm, to give me notice, and I
would be among them. About an hour afterward I went
out and found them all asleep ; and I could not help making
Paul rouse the sheik, and ask him if he did not want the
pistols for his vigilant watch.
In the morning we started at half past six. The day was
again beautiful and inspiritnig ; my horse and myself had
become the best friends in the world ; and, though I was
disgusted with the sheik's general conduct, I moved quietly
along the valley, conversing with him or Paul, or with any

CAMEL VS. DROMEDARY. 43
of the men, about anything that happened to suggest itself.
I remember I had a long discourse about the difl"erence be
tween the camel and the dromedary. Buffbn gives the
camel two humps, and the dromedary one ; and this, I be
lieve, is the received opinion, as it had always been mine ;
but, since I had been in the East, I had remarked that it
was exceedingly rare to meet a camel with two humps. I
had seen together at one time, on the starting of the cara
van of pilgrims to Mecca, perhaps twenty thousand camels
and dromedaries, and had not seen among them more than
half a dozen with two humps. Not satisfied with any ex
planation from European residents or travellers, I had in
quired among the Bedouins ; and Toualeb, my old guide,
brought up among camels, had given such a strange account
that I never paid any regard to it. Now. however, the sheik
told me the same thing, namely, that they were of diff"er-
ent races, the dromedary being to the camel as the blood-
horse is to the cart-horse ; and that the two humps were pe
culiar neither to the dromedary nor the camel, or natural to
either; but that both are always born with only one hump,
which, being a mere mass of flesh, and very tender, almost
as soon as the young camel is born a piece is sometimes
cut out of the middle for the convenience of better arranging
the saddle ; and, being cut out of the centre, a hump is left
on either side of the cavity ; and this, according to the ac
count given by Toualeb, is the only way in which two
humps ever appear on the back of a camel or dromedary.
I should not mention this story if I had heard it only once ;
but, precisely as I had it from Toualeb, it was confirmed
with a great deal of circumstantial detail by another Bed
ouin, who, like himself, had lived among camels and drom
edaries all his life ; and his statement was assented to by
all his companions. I do not give this out as a discovery
made at this late day in regard to an animal so well known
as the camel ; indeed, I am told that the Arabs are not ig-

44 INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL.
norant of that elegance of civilized life called " quizzing ;"
I give it merely to show how I whiled away my time in the
desert, and for what it is worth.
Towards midday the sheik dashed across the plain, with
his long lance poised in his hand, and his scarlet dress
streaming in the wind ; and about an hour afterward we
came to his spear stuck in the sand, and a little Bedouin
boy sitting by it to invite us to his father's tent. We turned
aside, and, coming to the tent, found the sheik sitting on
the ground refreshing himself with long draughts of goat's
milk. He passed the skin to us ; but, as master of the
ceremonies, he declined the regular Arab invitation to stay
and eat a lamb. He could not, however, neglect the goods
the gods provided, and told our host that we would take a
lamb with us for our evening meal. The lamb was caught,
and, with his legs tied, was thrown into a sack, where he made
music for us for the rest of the day. To the Bedouin, next
to the pleasure of eating a lamb is that of knowing he has
one to eat ; and so the bleating of the doomed innocent
was merely a whetter of appetite. After we had gone
some distance from the tent, we set down the lamb on the
ground, and I never saw a creature so perfectly the emblem
of helplessness. At first he ran back a little way from us ;
then stopped ; and apparently feeling the loneliness of his
condition, returned and followed us, and in a few moments
was under the feet of the camels, a part of our caravan un
wittingly moving to the slaughter. The tent was hardly
pitched before he lay bleeding on the ground ; and the fire
was no sooner kindled than his entrails, liver, &c., were in
the burning brush ; and in a few moments the Arabs were
greedily devouring the meal into which he had been so
speedily converted. The whole scene which I have before
described was repeated ; and, as before, in the morning the
skin was the only part of the lamb to be seen.
One thing in the sheik was particularly disagreeable.

MOUNT HOR. 45
He was constantly talking with Paul about the sacrifice he
made in accompanying me ; his confident expectation that I
would pay him well for it, and the generosity of Mr. Linant ;
always winding up with^sking what bucksheesh I intended
to give him. Paul told me all that passed, and it was evi
dent that the sheik and his men were making extravagant
calculations. I had estitaated with Mr. Gliddon the prob
able expenses to Jerusalem, founded on the rate of hire for
camels which the sheik had named at Cairo ; and as it was
not beyond the range of possibilities that I should be stripped
on the way, I had brought with me barely enough to cover my
probable expenses ; and, consequently, I saw that my means
were very likely to fall short of the sheik's expectations.
I did not want any disappointment at the last, and that night
I called him to my tent, resolved upon coming to an under
standing. I told him that, knowing it was a dangerous road,
and that I was subject to the risk of being robbed, I had
brought with me a specific sum of money, all of which I in
tended for him, and that all he scattered along the road
would be so much taken from his own pocket in the end.
He was evidently startled, and expressed his surprise that
a howaga, or gentleman, should have any bottom to his
pocket, but promised to economize in future.
The next day the general features of the scene were the
same, eternal barrenness and desolation ; and, moving to the
right, at one o'clock we were at the foot of the mountains
of Seir ; and towering above all the rest, surmounted by a
circular dome, like the tombs of the sheiks in Egypt, was
the bare and rugged summit of Mount Hor, the burial-place
of Aaron, visible in every direction at a great distance from
below, and on both sides the great range of mountains, and
forming one of the marks by which the Bedouin regulates
his wanderings in the desert. Soon after we turned in
among the mountains, occasionally passing small spots of
verdure, strangely contrasting with the surrounding and

46 INCIDENTS OP TRAVEL.
general desolation. Towards evening, in a small mountain
on our left, we saw an excavation in the rock, which the
sheik said had been a fortress ; and, as of every other work
of which the history is unknown, its construction was as
cribed to the early Christians. It was a beautiful afternoon ;
gazelles were playing in the valleys, and partridges running
wild up the sides of the mountains, and we pitched our
tent partly over a carpet of grass, with the door open to
the lofty tomb of the great high-priest of Israel.
In the evening the sheik came to my tent for money,
having been very pertinacious on that tender subject all
day with Paul, asking him how much he thought I had
with me, and how much I intended to give him. He began
by asking me for pay for the camels, at the price agreed upon
in Cairo. If he had asked me before starting from Akaba,
I should probably have paid him ; but, after what 1 had seen,
and what had passed between him and Paul, I did not like
his asking for it now. He told me, too, that we were now
at the door of Petra, and that it would be necessary to pay
a bucksheesh or tribute on entering, but he could not tell
how much would be required, as that would depend alto
gether on circumstances. There was always a guard sta
tioned at the entrance of the defile leading to Petra, and
the amount to be paid would depend upon the number we
might happen to find when we entered. These were never
less than thirty or forty ; and if there should not be more,
the tribute exacted would not be more than thirty or forty
dollars, but there might be two or three hundred ; and, at
all events, I had better give him my purse, and he would
return me what was left. I suspected that, as he could
not find out from Paul either how much 1 had with me or
what I intended to give him, this story *of the tribute was
merely a pretext to levy an immediate contribution. The
precise danger I had to fear was, that he would get my
money from me piecemeal, and, when we came among Bed-

DELICATE NEGOTIATIONS. 47
ouins where it would be necessary to buy my peace, go
off" and leave me to their mercy. 1 did not want to have
any rupture with him, particularly at the moment when I
was at the very door of Petra, and might lose all that I
had been endeavouring with so much personal difficulty to
accomplish ; and therefore told him, as to the bucksheesh
for entering Petra, that I expected ; and, when we should
arrive there and learn how much it was, would be ready to
pay it ; but, in the mean time, for any little casual expense
that might be incurred, I would give him a purse of five
hundred piasters, or twenty-five dollars. Touching the
hire of camels, I said that I did not eipeet to pay it until
we should arrive at Hebron ; and, hurling back upon him
one of his own flourishes, told him that it was distrusting
my honour to ask it now. I reminded him of our conver
sation at Cairo, remarking that I had come into the desert
upon the faith of his promise ; and he replied very imper
tinently, if not menacingly, that one word here was worth
a hundred at Cairo. I was somewhat roused at this, and,
determined not to be dragooned into compliance, forgot for
a moment my prudential plan, and told him that I would
not be driven into that or anything else ; and that, sooner
than submit to his demand, I would turn back here, at the
very door of Petra, and return to Cairo. This had its
effiect, for he was no more disposed to proceed to extremi
ties than myself; and when I found him giving way a
little, I threw in a powerful argument, which I had several
times before hinted at, namely, that there were two parties
on the Nile who were exceedingly anxious to make the
same journey, and who would be governed altogether by
the report I should make. I saw that his avarice and hope
of future gain were rapidly getting the better of his eager
ness to touch his money before it was earned ; and, with
out inflicting upon the reader a full account of our long
negotiation, made up principally of blustering and exaggera-

48 INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL.
tion, with some diplomatic concessions on both sides, it is
enough to say that at last, to my great relief, he withdrew
his demand and took what I off"ered.
Before daybreak the next morning we had struck our
tent, and sending it and the other baggage by another route,
the sheik being afraid to take with us anything that might
tempt the Bedouins, and leaving behind us several of our
men, the sheik, his brother, three Arabs, Paul, and myself,
with nothing but what we had on, and provisions for one
day, started for Wady Moussa and the city of Petra. Our
course was a continued ascent. I have found it throughout
difficult to give any description which can impart to the
reader a distinct idea of the wild and desolate scenes pre
sented among these mountainous deserts. I have been,
too, in so many of the same general nature, that particular
ones do not present themselves to my mind now with the
force and distinctness of perfect recollection ; and, in the
few rough and hurried notes which I made on the spot, I
marked rather the eff'ect than the causes which produced it.
I remember, however, that the mountains were barren,
solitary, and desolate, and that, as we ascended, their aspect
became more and more wild and rugged, and rose to gran
deur and sublimity. I remember, too, that among these
arid wastes of crumbling rock there were beautiful streams
gushing out from the sides of the mountains ; and some
times small valleys, where the green grass, and shrubs, and
bushes were putting forth in early spring ; and that, alto
gether, I saw among the stony mountains of Arabia Petraea
more verdure than I had observed since I left the banks of
the Nile. I remember, moreover, that the ascent was diffi
cult ; that our camels toiled laboriously ; and that even our
sure-footed Arabian horses often slipped upon the steep and
rugged path. Once the sheik and myself, being in advance
of the rest, sat down upon an eminence which overlooked,
on one side, a range of wild and barren moimtains, and, on

APPROACH TO PETRA. 49
the other, the dreary valley of El Ghor ; above us was the
venerable summit of Mount Hor ; and near us a stone black
ened with smoke, and surrounded by fragments of bones,
showing the place where the Arabs had sacrificed sheep to
the Prophet Aaron. From this point we wound along the
base of Mount Hor, which, from this great height, seemed
just beginning to rise into a mountain; and I remember,
that, in winding slowly along its base, as our companions
had objected to our mounting to the tomb of Aaron, Paul
and I were narrowly examining its sides for a path, and
making arrangements to slip out as soon as they should all
be asleep, and ascend by moonlight. Not far from the
base of Mount Hor we came to some tombs cut in the sides
of the rocks, and standing at the threshold of the entrance
to the excavated city. Before entering this extraordinary
olace, it would not be amiss, in few words, to give its history.
Vol. n.— E

50 INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL

CHAPTER IV.
Petra.— Arrival.— Entrance to the City.— The Temple of Petra.- A Rec
ord—The Theatre.— Tombs of Petra.— Arab Simplicity.- Departure
from Petra.— A Night in a Tomb.— Dangers of the Route.
Petra, the excavated city, the long-lost capital of Edom,
in the Scriptures and profane writings, in every language
in which its name occurs, signifies a rock ; and, through
the shadows of its early history, we learn that its inhabi
tants lived in natural clefts or excavations made in the solid
rock. Desolate as it now is, we have reason to believe
that it goes back to the time of Esau, " the father of Edom ;"
that princes and dukes, eight successive kings, and again
a long line of dukes, dwelt there before any king " reigned
over Israel ;" and we recognise it from the earliest ages
as the central point to which came the caravans from the
interior of Arabia, Persia, and India, laden with all the
precious commodities of the East, and from which these
commodities were distributed through Egypt, Palestine, and
Syria, and all the countries bordering on the Mediterranean,
even Tyre and Sidon deriving their purple and dies from
Petra. Eight hundred years before Christ, Amaziah, the
king of Judea, " slew of Edom in the Valley of Salt ten
thousand, and took Selah (the Hebrew name of Petra) by
war." Three hundred years after the last of the prophets,
and nearly a century before the Christian era, the " King
of Arabia" issued from his palace at Petra, at the head of
fifty thousand men, horse and foot, entered Jerusalem, and
uniting with the Jews, pressed the siege of the temple,
which was only raised by the advance of the Romans ; and

PETRA. 51
in the beginning of the second century, though its independ
ence was lost, Petra was still the capital of a Roman
province. After that time it rapidly declined ; its history
became more and more obscure ; for more than a thousand
years it was completely lost to the civilized world ; and,
until its discovery by Burckhardt in 1812, except to the
wandering Bedouins its very site was unknown.
And this was the city at whose door I now stood. In a
few words, this ancient and extraordinary city is situated
within a natural amphitheatre of two or three miles in cir
cumference, encompassed on all sides by rugged mountains
five or six hundred feet in height. The whole of this area
is now a waste of ruins, dwelling-houses, palaces, temples,
and triumphal arches, alL prostrate together in undistinguish
able confusion. The sides of the mountains are cut smooth,
in a perpendicular direction, and filled with long and con
tinued ranges of dwelling-houses, temples, and tombs, ex
cavated with vast labour out of the solid rock ; and while
their summits present Nature in her wildest and most sav
age form, their bases are adorned with all the beauty of
architecture and art, with columns, and porticoes, and pedi
ments, and ranges of corridors, enduring as the mountains
out of which they are hewn, and fresh as if the work of a
generation scarcely yet gone by.
Nothing can be finer than the immense rocky rampart
which encloses the city. Strong, firm, and immoveable as
Nature itself, it seems to deride the walls of cities and the
puny fortifications of skilful engineers. The only access
is by clambering over this wall of stone, practicable only
in one place, or by an entrance the most extraordinary that
Nature, in her wildest freaks, has ever framed. The
loftiest portals ever raised by the hands of man, the proud
est monuments of architectural skill and daring, sink into
insignificance by the comparison. It is, perhaps, the most
wonderful object in the world, except the ruins of the city

52 INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL.
to which it forms the entrance. Unfortunately, I did not
enter by this door, but by clambering over the mountains at
the other end ; and when I stood upon the summit of the
mountain, though I looked down upon the vast area filled
with ruined buildings and heaps of rubbish, and saw the
mountain-sides cut away so as to form a level surface, and
presenting long ranges of doors in successive tiers or stories,
the dwelling and burial places of a people long since passed
away ; and though immediately before me was the excava
ted front of a large and beautiful temple, I was disappointed.
I had read the unpublished description of Captains Irby and
Mangles. Several times the sheik had told me, in the most
positive manner, that there was no other entrance ; and I
was moved to indignation at the marvellous and exaggerated,
not to say false representations, as I thought, of the only
persons who had given any account of this wonderful en
trance. I was disappointed, too, in another matter. Burck
hardt had been accosted, immediately upon his entry, by a
large party of Bedouins, and been suflfered to remain but a
very short time. Messrs. Legh, Banks, Irby, and Mangles
had been opposed by hundreds of Bedouins, who swore
" that they should never enter their territory nor drink of their
waters," and " that they would shoot them like dogs if they
attempted it." And I expected some immediate oppositioa
from at least the thirty or forty, fewer than whom, the she'ik
had told me, were never to be found in Wady Moussa. I
expected a scene of some kind ; but at the entrance of the
city there was not a creature to dispute our passage ; its
portals were wide open, and we passed along the stream
down into the area, and still no man came to oppose us.
We moved to the extreme end of the area ; and, when in
the act of dismounting at the foot of the rock on which
stood the temple that had constantly faced ns, we saw ono
solitary Arab, straggling along without any apparent object,
a mere wanderer among the ruins ; and it is a not uninter-

ENTRANCE TO THE CITY. 53
esting fact, that this poor Bedouin was the only living
being we saw in the desolate city of Petra. After gazing
at us for a few moments from a distance, he came towards
us, and in a few moments was sitting down to pipes and
cog"ee with my companions. I again asked the sheik for
the other entrance, and he again told me there was none ;
but I could not believe him, and set out to look for it my
self; and although in my search I had already seen enough
abundantly to repay me for all my difficulties in getting there,
I could not be content without finding this desired avenue.
In front of the great temple, the pride and beauty of
Petra, of which more hereafter, I saw a narrow opening in
the rocks, exactly corresponding with my conception of the
object for which I was seeking. A full stream of water
was gushing through it, and filling up the whole mouth of
the passage. Mounted on the shoulders of one of my Bed
ouins, I got him to carry me through the swollen stream at
the mouth of the opening, and set me down on a dry place
a little above, whence I began to pick my way, occasionally
taking to the shoulders of my follower, and continued to
advance more than a mile. I was beyond all peradventure
in the great entrance I was seeking. There could not be
two such, and I should have gone on to the extreme end of
the ravine, but my Bedouin suddenly refused me the fur
ther use of his shoulders. He had been some time object
ing and begging me to return, and now positively refused
to go any farther ; and, in fact, turned about himself. I
was anxious to proceed, but I did not like wading up to my
knees in the water, nor did I feel very resolute to go where
I might expose myself to danger, as he seemed to intimate.
While I was hesitating, another of my men came running
up the ravine, and shortly after him Paul and the sheik,
breathless with haste, and crying in low gutturals, "El
Arab ! el Arab !" — " The Arabs ! the Arabs !" This was
enough for me. I had heard so much of El Arab that I
E3

54 INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL.
had become nervous. It was like the cry of Delilah in the
ears of the sleeping Samson, " The Philistines be upon
thee." At the other end of the ravine was an encampment
of the El Alouins ; and the sheik, having due regard to my
communication about money matters, had shunned this en
trance to avoid bringing upon me this horde of tribute-gath
erers for a participation in the spoils. Without any dispo
sition to explore farther, I turned towards the city ; and it
was now that I began to feel the powerful and indelible im
pression that must be produced on entering, through this
mountainous passage, the excavated city of Petra.
For about two miles it lies between high and precipitous
ranges of rocks, from five hundred to a thousand feet in
height, standing as if torn asunder by some great convulsion,
and barely wide enough for two horsemen to pass abreast.
A swelling stream rushes between them ; the summits are
wild and broken ; in some places overhanging the opposite
sides, casting the darkness of night upon the narrow defile ;
then receding and forming an opening above, through which
a strong ray of light is thrown down, and illuminates with
the blaze of day the frightful chasm below. Wild fig-trees,
oleanders, and ivy were growing out of the rocky sides of
the cliiTs hundreds of feet above our heads ; the eagle was
screaming above us ; all along were the open doors of
tombs, forming the great Necropolis of the city ; and at the
extreme end was a large open space, with a powerful body
of light thrown down upon it, and exhibiting in one full
view the fagade of a beautiful temple, hewn out of the rock,
with rows of Corinthian columns and ornaments, standing
out fresh and clear as if but yesterday from the hands pf
the sculptor. Though coming directly from the banks of
the Nile, where the preservation of the temples excites the
admiration and astonishment of every traveller, we were
roused and excited by the extraordinary beauty and excel
lent condition of the great temple at Petrq. Even in com-

"^"^

RAVINE LEADING TO PETRA W ,> /
AND TOMB ^VITH GREEK IN S CRIP TION

^t;f^:3^

\\- r I A S \ I', - J' F. T K A .
Tfinple c.n;naU;i in Ihr Ji,;-l-

r'l.?p.

THE TEMPLE OF PETRA. 55
ing upon it, as we did, at disadvantage, I remember that
Paul, who was a passionate admirer of the arts, when he
first obtained a glimpse of it, involuntarily cried out, and
moving on to the front with a vivacity I never saw him
exhibit before or afterward, clapped his hands, and shouted
in ecstasy. To the last day of our being together he was
in the habit of referring to his extraordinary fit of enthu
siasm when he first came upon that temple ; and I can
well imagine that, entering by this narrow defile, with the
feelings roused by its extraordinary and romantic wild-
ness and beauty, the first view of that superb fagade must
produce an eff"ect which could never pass away. Even
now, that I have returned to the pursuits and thought-en
grossing incidents of a life in the busiest city in the world,
-often in situations as widely diff"erent as light from darkness,
I see before me the fagade of that temple ; neither the Co
liseum at Rome, grand and interesting as it is, nor the ruins
of the Acropolis at Athens, nor the Pyramids, nor the mighty
temples of the Nile, are so often present to my memory.
The whole temple, its columns, ornaments, porticoes,
and porches, are cut out from and form part of the solid
rock ; and this rock, at the foot of which the temple stands
like a mere print, towers several hundred feet above, its
face cut smooth to the very summit, and the top remaining
wild and misshapen as Nature made it. The whole area
before the temple is perhaps an acre in extent, enclosed on
all sides except at the narrow entrance, and an opening to
the left of the temple, which leads into the area of the city
by a pass through perpendicular rocks five or six hundred
feet in height.
It is not my design to enter into the details of the many
monuments in this extraordinary city ; but, to give a gen
eral idea of the character of all the excavations, I cannot
do better than go within the temple. Ascending several
broad steps, we entered under a colonnade of four Corini-

56 INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL.
thian columns, about thirty-five feet high, into a large cham
ber of some fifty feet square and twenty -five feet high. The
outside of the temple is richly ornamented, but the interior
is perfectly plain, there being no ornament of any kind
upon the walls or ceiling ; on each of the three sides is a
small chamber for the reception of the dead ; and on the
back wall of the innermost chamber I saw the names of
Messrs. Legh, Banks, Irby, and Mangles, the four English
travellers who with so much difficulty had eff"ected their
entrance to the city ; of Messieurs Laborde and Linant, and
the two Englishmen and Italian of whom I have before
spoken ; and two or three others, which, from the character
of the writing, I supposed to be the names of attendants
upon some of these gentlemen. These were the only
names recorded in the temple ; and, besides Burckhardt, no
other traveller had ever reached it. I was the first Ameri
can who had ever been there. Many of my countrymen,
probably, as was the case with me, have never known the
existence of such a city ; and, independently of all personal
considerations, I confess that I felt what, I trust, was not an
inexcusable pride, in writing upon the innermost wall of
that temple the name of an American citizen ; and under it,
and flourishing on its own account in temples, and tombs,
and all the most conspicuous places in Petra, is the illustri
ous name of Paulo Nuozzo, dragomano.
Leaving the temple and the open area on which it fronts,
and following the stream, we entered another defile much
broader than the first, on each side of which were ranges
of tombs, with sculptured doors and columns ; and on the
left, in the bosom of the mountain, hewn out of the solid
rock, is a large theatre, circular in form, the pillars in front
fallen, and containing thirty-three rows of seats, capable
of containing more than three thousand persons. Above
the corridor was a range of doors opening to chambers in
the rocks, the seats of the princes and wealthiest inhabitants

i.N'TKurnii vii.-,\\- OK 'rru'; Kii.s.syio

THE THEATRE. 57
of Petra, and not unlike a row of private boxes in a modern
theatre. The whole theatre is at this day in such a state of pres
ervation, that if the tenants of the tombs around could once
more rise into life, they might take their old places on its
seats, and listen to the declamation of their favourite player.
To me the stillness of a ruined city is nowhere so impres
sive as when sitting on the steps of its theatre ; once
thronged with the gay and pleasure-seeking, but now given
up to solitude and desolation. Day after day these seats
had been filled, and the now silent rocks had echoed to the
applauding shout of thousands ; and little could an ancient
Edomite imagine that a solitary stranger, from a then un
known world, would one day be wandering among the ruins
of his proud and wonderful city, meditating upon the fate of
a race that has for ages passed away. Where are ye, in
habitants of this desolate city 1 ye who once sat on the seats
of this theatre, the young, the high-born, the beautiful, and
brave ; who once rejoiced in your riches and power, and
lived as if there was no grave ? Where are ye now ?
Even the very tombs, whose open doors are stretching
away in long ranges before the eyes of the wondering trav
eller, cannot reveal the mystery of your doom : your dry
bones are gone ; the robber has invaded your graves, and
your very ashes have been swept away to make room for
the wandering Arab of the desert.
But we need not stop at the days when a gay population
were crowding to this theatre. In the earliest periods of
recorded time, long before this theatre was built, and long
before the tragic muse was known, a great city stood here.
When Esau, having sold his birthright for a mess of pottage,
came to his portion among the mountains of Seir ; and
Edom, growing in power and strength, became presumptu
ous and haughty, until, in her pride, when Israel prayed a
passage through her country, Edom said unto Israel, " Thou

58 INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL.
shalt not pass by me, lest I come out against thee with the
sword." Amid all the terrible denunciations against the land of
Idumea, " her cities and the inhabitants thereof," this proud
city among the rocks, doubtless for its extraordinary sins,
was always marked as a subject of extraordinary vengeance.
" I have sworn by myself, saith the Lord, that Bozrah (the
strong or fortified city) shall become a desolation, a re
proach, and a waste, and a curse, and all the cities thereof
shall be perpetual waste. Lo, I will make thee small
among the heathen, and despised among men. Thy terri-
bleness hath deceived thee, and the pride of thy heart, oh
thou that dwellest in the clefts of the rocks, that boldest
the height of the hill ; though thou shouldst make thy
nest as high as the eagle, I will bring thee down from
thence, saith the Lord."* " They shall call the nobles
thereof to the kingdom, but none shall be there, and all her
princes shall be nothing; and thorns shall come up in her
palaces, nettles and brambles in the fortresses thereof, and
it shall be a habitation for dragons, and a court for owls."t
I would that the skeptic could stand as I did among the
ruins of this city among the rocks, and there open the sa
cred book and read the words of the inspired penman, writ
ten when this desolate place was one of the greatest cities
in the world, I see the scoff" arrested, his cheek pale, his
lip quivering, and his heart quaking with fear, as the ruined
city cries out to him in a voice loud and powerful as that of
one risen from the dead ; though he would not believe Moses
and the prophets, he believes the handwriting of God him
self in the desolation and eternal ruin around him. We sat
en the steps of the theatre, and made our noonday meal ;
our drink was from the pure stream that rolled down at our
feet. Paul and myself were alone. We scared the par-
(f Jeremiah iljx., 13, 16, t Isaiah xxxiv., 14, 15.

TOMBS OF PETRA. 59
tridge before us as we ascended, and I broke for a moment
the stillness of the desolate city by the report of my gun.
All around the theatre, in the sides of the mountains, were
ranges of tombs ; and directly opposite they rose in long
tiers one above another. Having looked into those around
the theatre, I crossed to those opposite ; and, carefully as
the brief time I had would allow, examined the whole range.
Though I had no small experience in exploring catacombs
and tombs, these were so diff"erent from auy I had seen that
I found it difficult to distinguish the habitations of the living
from the chambers of the dead. The fagades or architec
tural decorations of the front were everywhere handsome ;
and in this they diff"ered materially from the tombs in Egypt ;
in the latter the doors were simply an opening in the rock,
and all the grandeur and beauty of the work within ; while
here the door was always imposing in its appearance, and
the interior was generally a simple chamber, unpainted and
unsculptured. I say that I could not distinguish the dwellings from the
tombs ; but this was not invariably the case ; some were
clearly tombs, for there were pits in which the dead had
been laid, and others were as clearly dwellings, being with
out a place for the deposite of the dead. One of these last
particularly attracted my attention. It consisted of one
large chamber, having on one side, at the foot of the wall,
a stone bench about a foot high, and two or three broad,
in form like the divans in the East at the present day ; at
the other end were several small apartments, hewn out of
the rock, with partition walls left between them, like stalls
in a stable, and these had probably been the sleeping apart
ments of the diff"erent members of the family, the myste
ries of bars and bolts, of folding-doors and third stories,
being unknown in the days of the ancient Edomites.
There were no paintings or decorations of any kind within
the chamber ; but the rock out of which it was hewn, like

60 INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL.
the whole stony rampart that encircled the city, was of a
peculiarity and beauty that I never saw elsewhere, being a
dark ground, with veins of white, blue, red, purple, and
sometimes scarlet and light orange, running through it in
rainbow streaks ; and within the chambers, where there had
been no exposure to the action of the elements, the fresh
ness and beauty of the colours in which these waving lines
were drawn gave an eff"ect hardly inferior to that of the
paintings in the tombs of the kings at Thebes. From its
high and commanding position, and the unusual finish of the
work, this house, if so it may be called, had no doubt been
the residence of one who had strutted his hour of brief ex
istence among the wealthy citizens of Petra. In front was
a large table of rock, forming a sort of court for the exca
vated dwelling, where probably, year after year, in this
beautiful climate, the Edomite of old sat under the gather
ing shades of evening, sometimes looking down upon the
congregated thousands and the stirring scenes in the theatre
beneath, or beyond upon the palaces and dwellings in the
area of the tlien populous city.
Farther on in the same range, though, in consequence of
the steps of the streets being broken, we were obliged to go
down and ascend again before we could reach it, was an
other temple, like the first, cut out of the solid rock, and,
like the first too, having for its principal ornament a large
urn, shattered and bruised by musket balls ; for the ignorant
Arab, believing that gold is concealed in it, day after day,
as he passes, levels at it his murderous gun, in the vain
hope to break the vessel and scatter a golden shower on the
ground. But it would be unprofitable to dwell upon details. In
the exceeding interest of the scene around me, I hurried
from place to place, utterly insensible to physical fatigue ;
and being entirely alone, and having a full and undisturbed
range of the ruins, I clambered up broken staircases and

FULFILMENT OF PROPHECY. 61
among the ruins of streets ; and, looking into one exca
vation, passed on to another and another, and made the
whole circuit of the desolate city. There, on the spot,
everything had an interest which I cannot give in descrip
tion ; and if the reader has followed me so far, 1 have too
much regard for him to drag him about after me as I did
Paul. I am warned of the consequences by what occurred
with that excellent and patient follower ; for, before the day
was over, he was completely worn out with fatigue.
The shades of evening were gathering around us as we
stood for the last time on the steps of the theatre. Perfect
as has been the fulfilment of the prophecy in regard to this
desolate city, in no one particular has its truth been more
awfully verified than in the complete destruction of its in
habitants ; in the extermination of the race of the Edomites.
In the same day, and by the voice of the same prophets,
came the separate denunciations against the descendants of
Israel and Edom, declaring against both a complete change
of their temporal condition ; and while the Jews have been
dispersed in every country under heaven, and are still, in
every land, a separate and unmixed people, " the Edomites
have been cut off" for ever, and there is not any remaining
of the house of Esau.''
" Wisdom has departed from Teman, and understanding
out of the mount of Esau ;" and the miserable Arab who
now roams over the land cannot appreciate or understand
the works of its ancient inhabitants. In the summer he
cultivates the few valleys in which seed will grow, and in
the winter makes his habitation in the tombs ; and, stimula
ted by vague and exaggerated traditionary notions of the
greatness and wealth of the people who have gone before
him, his barbarous hand is raised against the remaining
monuments of their arts ; and, as he breaks to atoms the
sculptured stone, he expects to gather up their long-hidden
treasures. I could have lingered for days on the steps of
Vol. H.— F

62 INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL.
that theatre, for I never was at a place where such a crowd
of associations pressed upon the mind. But the sheik was
hurrying me away. From the first he had told me that I
must not pass a night within the city ; and begging me not
to tempt my fortune too rashly, he was perpetually urging
me to make my retreat while there was yet time. He said
that, if the Arabs at the other end of the great entrance heard
of a stranger being there, they would be down upon me to
a man, and, not content with extorting money, would cer
tainly prevent my visiting the tomb of Aaron. He had
touched the right chord ; and considering that weeks or
months could not impress the scene more strongly on my
mind, and that I was no artist, and could not carry away
on paper the plans and models of ancient art, I mounted my
horse from the very steps of the theatre, and followed the
sheik in his progress up the valley. Turning back from
the theatre, the whole area of the city burst upon the sight
at once, filled with crumbling masses of rock and stone,
the ruined habitations of a people long since perished from
the face of the earth, and encompassed on every side by
high ranges of mountains ; and the sides of these were cut
smooth, even to the summit, hundreds of feet above my
head as I rode past, and filled with long-continued ranges of
open doors, the entrances to dwellings and tombs, of which
the small connecting staircases were not visible at a dis
tance, and many of the tenements seemed utterly inacces
sible. Every moment the sheik was becoming more and more
impatient; and, spurring my horse, I followed him on a
gallop among the ruins. We ascended the valley, and rising
to the summit of the rocky rampart, it was almost dark
when we found ourselves opposite a range of tombs in the
suburbs of the city. Here we dismounted ; and selecting
from among them one which, from its finish and dimen
sions, must have been the last abode of some wealthy

-lill

pr-.=4'V^,,

5j

A NIGHT IN A TOMB. 63
Edomite, we prepared to pass the night within its walls. I
was completely worn out when I threw myself on the rocky
floor of the tomb. I had just completed one of the most
interesting days in my life ; for the singular character of
the city, and the uncommon beauty of its ruins, its great an
tiquity, the prophetic denunciations of whose truth it was
the witness, its loss for more than a thousand years to the
civilized world, its very existence being known only to the
wandering Arab, the difficulty of reaching it, and the hur
ried and dangerous manner in which I had reached it, gave
a thrilling and almost fearful interest to the time and place,
of which 1 feel it utterly impossible to convey any idea.
In the morning Paul and I had determined, when our
companions should be asleep, to ascend Mount Hor by
moonlight ; but now we thought only of rest ; and seldom
has the pampered tenant of a palace laid down with greater
satisfaction upon his canopied bed than I did upon the
stony floor of this tomb in Petra. In the front part of it
was a large chamber, about twenty-five feet square and ten
feet high ; and behind this was another of smaller dimen
sions, furnished with receptacles for the dead, not arranged
after the manner of shelves extending along the wall, as in
the catacombs I had seen in Italy and Egypt, but cut length
wise in the rock, like ovens, so as to admit the insertion of
the body with the feet foremost.
We built a fire in the outer chamber, thus lighting up the
innermost recesses of the tombs ; and, after our evening
meal, while sipping coff"ee and smoking pipes, the sheik
congratulated me upon my extreme good fortune in having
seen Petra without any annoyance from the Bedouins ; ad
ding, as usual, that it was a happy day for me when I saw
his face at Cairo. He told me that he had never been to
Wady Moussa without seeing at least thirty or forty Arabs,
and sometimes three or four hundred ; that when Abdel
Hag (Mr. Linant) and Mr. Laborde visited Petra the first

C4 INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL.
time, they were driven out by the Bedouins after remain
ing only five hours, and were chased down into the valley,
Mr. Linant changing his dromedary every three hours on
the way back to Akaba ; that there he remained, pretending
to be sick, for twenty-four days, every day feasting half the
tribe ; and during that time sending to Cairo for money,
dresses, swords, guns, pistols, ammunition, &c., which
he distributed among them so lavishly that the whole tribe
escorted him in triumph to Petra. This is so diiferent from
Mr. Laborde's account of his visit, that it cannot be true.
I asked him about the visit of Messrs. Legh and Banks, and
Captains Irby and Mangles ; and drawing close to me, so
as not to be overheard by the rest, he told me that he re
membered their visit well ; that they came from Kerek with
three sheiks and three or four hundred men, and that the
Bedouins of Wady Moussa turned out against them more
than two thousand strong. His uncle was then the sheik,
and he himself a young man; and, if his account is true,
which cannot, however, be, as it is entirely diff"erent from
theirs, he began the life of a knave so young, that, though
he had no great field for exercise, he ought then to have
been something of a proficient ; he said, that while they
were negotiating and parleying, one of the strange Arabs
slipped into his hands a purse with a hundred pieces of
gold, which he showed to his uncle, and proposed to him
that they should use their influence to procure the admis
sion of the strangers, and divide the money between them ;
and so wrought upon the old man that he procured their
entrance, telling the tribe that one of the strangers was
sick, and, if they did not admit them into Wady Moussa, he
would take them to his tent ; and, added the sheik, his eyes
sparkling with low cunning, my uncle and I ate the whole
of that gold without any one of the tribe ever knowing any
thing about it.
One piece of information he gave me, which I thought

DANGERS OF THE ROUTE. 65
very likely to be true ; that the road to Petra, and thence
through Idumea in any direction, never could be pursued
with assurance of safety, or become a frequented route, be
cause the Bedouins would always be lying in wait for trav
ellers, to exact tribute or presents ; and although a little
might sometimes content them, at others their demands
would be exorbitant, and quarrels and bad consequences to
the traveller would be almost sure to follow ; and he added,
in reference to our visit, that, as soon as the Arabs should
hear of a stranger having been at Petra, they would be
down in swarms ; and perhaps even now would follow us
into the valley. I was satisfied that I had made a fortu
nate escape, not, perhaps, from personal danger, but from
grinding exactions, if not from robbery ; and, congratulating
myself upon my good fortune so far, I began to feel my
way for what I now regarded as important as before I had
thought the journey to Petra, namely, a visit to the tomb of
Aaron. My companions opposed my going to it, saying that no
Christian had ever done so ; and that none but Mussulmans
went there, and they only to sacrifice a sheep upon the
tomb. I told them that I also designed to sacrifice ; and
that, like them, we regarded Aaron as a prophet ; that my
visit to Petra was nothing unless I made the sacrifice ; and
that my conscience would not be at ease unless 1 performed
it according to my vow. This notice of my pious purpose
smoothed some of the difficulties, as the Arabs knew that
after the sacrifice the sheep must be eaten. The sheik
was much more liberal or more indiff"erent than the rest,
and my desire was finally assented to ; although, in wind
ing up a long discussion about the pedigree of Aaron, one
of them held out to the last that Aaron was a Mussulman,
and would not believe that he lived before Mohammed. He
had an indefinite idea that Mohammed was the greatest
man that ever lived, and in his mind this was not consistent
with the idea of any one having lived before him.
F2

66 INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL.
My plans for the morrow being all arranged, the Bed
ouins stretched themselves out in the outer chamber, while
I went within ; and seeking out a tomb as far back as I
could find, I crawled in feet first, and found myself very
much in the condition of a man buried alive. But never
did a man go to his tomb with so much satisfaction as I
felt. I was very tired ; the night was cold, and here I was
completely sheltered. I had just room enough to turn
round ; and the worthy old Edomite for whom the tomb
was made never slept in it more quietly than I did. Little
did he imagine that his bones would one day be scattered
to the winds, and a straggling American and a horde of
Bedouins, born and living thousands of miles from each
other, would be sleeping quietly in his tomb, alike ignorant
and careless of him for whom it was built.

A BOLD ENDEAVOUR. 67

CHAPTER V.
A bold Endeavour. — Unexpected Obstacles.— Disadvantage of a Dress. —
The Dead Sea.— A New Project.— The Tomb of Aaron.— An Alarm.—
Descent of the Mountain. — An awltward Meeting. — Poetic License. —
All's Well that Ends Well.— Unexpected Dignities.— Arab Notions of
Travel. A MAN rising from a tomb with all his clothes on does
not require much time for the arrangement of his toilet. In
less than half an hour we had breakfasted, and were again
on our way. Forgetting all that had engrossed my thoughts
and feelings the day before, I now fixed my eyes upon the
tomb of Aaron, on the summit of Mount Hor. The mount
ain was high, towering above all the rest, bare and rugged
to its very summit, without a tree or even a bush growing
on its steril side ; and our road lay directly along its base.
The Bedouins again began to show an unwillingness to al
low my visit to the tomb ; and the sheik himself told me
that it would take half the day, and perhaps be the means
of bringing upon me some of the horde I had escaped. I
saw that they were disposed to prevent me from accom
plishing my object ; and I felt sure that, if we met any
strange Arabs, my purpose would certainly be defeated. I
suspected them of stratagem, and began to think of resort
ing to stratagem for myself. They remembered the sheep,
however, and told me that the sacrifice could as well be
performed at the base as on the summit of the mountain ; but
this, of course, would not satisfy my conscience.
With my eyes constantly fixed on the top of the mount
ain, I had thought for some time that it would not be im
practicable to ascend from the side on which I was. Paul
and I examined the localities as carefully as a couple of

68 INCIDENTS OP TRAVEL.
engineers seeking an assailable place to scale the wall of
a fortified city ; and afraid to wait till they had matured
some plan of opposing me, I determined to take them by
surprise ; and throwing myself from my horse, and telling
Paul to say that we would climb the mountain here, and
meet them on the other side, I was almost out of hearing
before they had recovered from their astonishment. Paul
followed me, and the sheik and his men stood for some
time without moving, irresolute what to do ; and it was not
until we had advanced considerably on the mountain that
we saw the caravan again slowly moving along its base.
None of them off'ered to accompany us, though we should
have been glad to have one or two with us on our ex
pedition. For some distance we found the ascent sufficiently
smooth and easy — much more so than that of Mount Sinai
— ^and, so far as we could see before us, it was likely to
continue the same all the way up. We were railing at the
sheik for wanting to carry us around to the other side, and
congratulating ourselves upon having attempted it here, when
we came to a yawning and precipitous chasm, opening
its horrid jaws almost from the very base of the mountain.
From the distance at which we had marked out our route,
the inequalities of surface could not be distinguished, but
here it was quite another thing. We stood on the brink of
the chasm, and looked at each other in blank amazement ;
and at a long distance, as they wound along the base of the
mountain, I thought I could see a quiet smile of derision
lighting up the grim visages of my Bedouin companions.
We stood upon the edge of the chasm, looking down intOL
its deep abyss, like the spirits of the departed lingering on
the shores of the Styx, vainly wishing for a ferryman to carry
us over, and our case seemed perfectly hopeless without
some such aid. But the days when genii and spirits lent their
kind assistance to the sons of men are gone ; if a man finds

p

\\ » I

i^j'f

ASCENT OP MOUNT HOR. 69
himself in a ditch, he must get out of it as well as he can,
and so it was with us on the brink of this chasm. Bad, how
ever, as was our prospect in looking forward, we had not yet
begun to look back ; and as soon as we saw that there was
no possibility of getting over it, we began to descend ; and
groping, sliding, jumping, and holding on with hands and
feet, we reached the bottom of the gully ; and, after another
hard half hour's toil, were resting our wearied limbs upon
the opposite brink, at about the same elevation as that of
the place from which we had started.
This success encouraged us ; and, without caring or
thinking how we should come down again^ we felt only the
spirit of the seaman's cry to the trembling sailor boy,
"Look aloft, you lubber;" and looking aloft, we saw
through a small opening before us, though still at a great
distance, the white dome that covered the tomb of the first
high-priest of Israel. Again with stout hearts we resumed
our ascent ; but, as we might reasonably have supposed,
that which we had passed was not the only chasm in the
mountains. What had appeared to us slight inequalities of
surface we found great fissures and openings, presenting
themselves before us in quick succession; not, indeed, as
absolute and insurmountable barriers to farther progress,
but affording us only the encouragement of a bare possibil
ity of crossing them. The whole mountain, from its base
to its summit, was rocky and naked, aflfording not a tree or
bush to assist us ; and all that we had to hold on by were
the rough and broken corners of the porous sandstone rocks,
which crumbled in our hands and under our feet, and more
than once put us in danger of our lives. Several times,
after desperate exertion, we sat down perfectly discouraged
at seeing another and another chasm before us, and more
than once we were on the point of giving up the attempt,
thinking it impossible to advance any farther ; but we had
come so far, and taken so little notice of our road, that it

70 INCIDENTS OP TRAVEL.
was almost as impossible to return ; and a distant and ac
cidental glimpse of the whitened dome would revive our
courage, and stimulate us to another effort. Several times
I mounted on Paul's shoulders, and with his helping reached
the lop of a precipitous or overhanging rock, where, lying
down with my face over the brink, I took up the pistols,
swords, &c., and then helped him up in turn ; sometimes,
again, he was the climber, and my shoulders were the step
ping-stone ; and, in the rough grasps that we gave each
other, neither thought of the relation of master and servant.
On the sides of that rugged mountain, so desolate, so com
pletely removed from the world, whose difficult ascent had
been attempted by few human footsteps since the days
when "Moses and Aaron went up in sight of all the con
gregation," the master and the man lay on the same rock,
encountering the same fatigues and dangers, and inspired by
the same hopes and fears. My dress was particularly bad
for the occasion ; for, besides the encumbrance of pistols
and a sword, my long silk gown and large sleeves were a
great annoyance, as I wanted every moment a long reach
of the arm and full play of the legs ; even our light Turkish
slippers were impediments in our desperate scramble, and
we were obliged to pull them off", for the better hold that
eould be taken with the naked feet.
It will be remembered that we were ascending on the
eastern side of the mountain ; and in one of our pauses to
breathe, when about half way up, we looked back upon the
high rampart of rocks that enclosed the city of Petra ; and
on the outside of the rock we saw the fagade of a beautiful
temple, resembling in its prominent features, but seeming
larger and more beautiful than, the Khasne of Pharaoh op
posite the principal entrance of the city. I have no doubt
that a visit to that temple would have abundantly repaid
me for the day I should have lost ; for, besides its archi
tectural beauty, it would have been curious to examine, andj

A NEW PROJECT. 71
if possible, discover why it was constructed, standing alone
outside of the cityj and, as it appeared, apart from every
thing connected with the habitations of the Edomites. But
as yet we had work enough before us. Disencumbering our
selves of all our useless trappings, shoes, pistols, swords, to
bacco-pouch, and water-sack, which we tied together in a
sash and the roll of a turban, by dint of climbing, pushing,
and lifting each other, after the most arduous upward
scramble I ever accomplished, we attained the bald and
hoary summit of the mountain ; and, before we had time to
look around, at the extreme end of the desolate valley of
El Ghor, our attention was instantly attracted and en
grossed by one of the most interesting objects in the world,
and Paul and I exclaimed at the same moment, " The Dead
Sea !" Lying between the barren mountains of Arabia and
Judea, presenting to us from that height no more than a
small, calm, and silvery surface, was that mysterious sea
which rolled its dark waters over the guilty cities of Sodom
and Gomorrah ; over whose surface, according to the su
perstition of the Arabs, no bird can fly, and in whose waters
no fish can swim; constantly receiving in its greedy bosom
the whole body of the Jordan, but, unlike all other waters,
sending forth no tribute to the ocean. A new idea entered
my mind. I would follow the desert valley of El Ghor to
the shores of the Dead Sea, along whose savage borders I
would coast to the ruined Jericho and the hallowed Jordan,
and search in its deadly waters for the ruins of the doomed
and blasted cities.
If I had never stood on the top of Mount Sinai, I should
say that nothing could exceed the desolation of the view
™^om the summit of Mount Hor, its most striking objects
being the dreary and rugged mountains of Seir, bare and
naked of trees and verdure, and heaving their lofty summits
to the skies, as if in a vain and fruitless eflort to excel the
mighty pile, on the top of which the high-priest of Israel

72 INCIDENTS OP TBAVEL.
was buried. Before me was a land of barrenness and ruin ,
a land accursed by God, and against which the prophets
had set their faces ; the land of which it is thus written in
the Book of Life : " Moreover, the word of the Lord came
unto me, saying. Son of man, set thy face against Mount
Seir, and prophesy against it, and say unto it. Thus saith
the Lord God, Behold, oh Mount Seir, I am against thee,
and I will stretch out mine hand against thee, and I will
make thee most desolate. I will lay thy cities waste, and
thou shalt be desolate ; and thou shalt know that I am the
Lord. Because thou hast had a perpetual hatred, and
hast shed the blood of the ehildren of Israel by the force of
the sword in the time of their calamity, in the time that their
iniquity had an end : therefore, as I live, saith the Lord
God, I will prepare thee unto blood, and blood shall pursue
thee : sith thou hast not hated blood, even blood shall pursue
thee. Thus will I make Mount Seir most desolate, and
cut off" from it him that passeth out and him that returneth.
And I will fill his mountains with his slain men : in thy
hills, and in thy valleys, and in all thy rivers shall they fall
that are slain with the sword. I will make thee perpetual
desolations, and thy cities shall not return : and ye shall
know that I am the Lord."*
The Bible account of the death of Aaron is — " And the
children of Israel, even the whole congregation, journeyed
from Kadesh, and came unto Mount Hor. And the Lord
spake unto Moses and Aaron in Mount Hor, by the coast of
the land of Edom, saying, Aaron shall be gathered unto his
people : for he shall not enter into the land which I have
given unto *he children of Israel, because ye rebelled
against my word at the water of Meribah. Take Aaron
and Eleazer his son, and bring them up unto Mount Hor ;
and strip Aaron of his garments, and put them upon Elea-
* Ezekiel xixv.

THE TOMB OF AARON. 73
zer his son ; and Aaron shall be gathered unto his people,
and shall die there. And Moses did as the Lord command
ed : and they went up into Mount Hor; in the sight of all
the congregation. And Moses stripped Aaron of his gar
ments, and put them upon Eleazer his son ; and Aaron died
there in the top of the mount : and Moses and Eleazer
came down from the mount. And when all the congrega
tion saw that Aaron was dead, they mourned for Aaron
thirty days, even all the house of Israel."*
On the very " top of the mount," reverenced alike by
Mussulmans and Christians, is the tomb of Aaron. The
building is about thirty feet square, containing a single
chamber ; in front of the door is a tombstone, in form like
the oblong slabs in our churchyards, but larger and higher ;
the top rather larger than the bottom, and covered with a
ragged pall of faded red cotton in shreds and patches. At
its head stood a high round stone, on which the Mussul
man oflfers his sacrifices. The stone was blackened with
smoke; stains of blood and fragments of burnt brush were
still about it ; all was ready but the victim ; and when I
saw the reality of the preparations, I was very well satis
fied to have avoided the necessity of conforming to the
Mussulman custom. A few ostrich eggs, the usual orna
ments of a mosque, were suspended from the ceiling, and
the rest of the chamber was perfectly bare. After going
out, and from the very top of the tomb surveying again and
again the desolate and dreary scene that presented itself on
every side, always terminating with the distant view of the
Dead Sea, I returned within ; and examining once more
the tomb and the altar, walked carefully around the cham
ber. There was no light except what came from the door ;
and, in groping in the extreme corner on one side, my foot
descended into an aperture in the floor. I put it down care-
' * Numbers xx.
Vol. II.— G

74 INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL.
fully, and found a step, then another, and another, -evidently
a staircase leading to a chamber below. I went down till
my head was on the level of the floor, but could see nothing;
all was dark, and I called to Paul to strike a light. Most
provokingly, he had no materials with him. He generally
carried a flint and steel for lighting his pipe with ; but now,
when I most wanted it, he had none. I went back to the
staircase, and, descending to the bottom of the steps, at
tempted to make out what the place might be ; but it was
Btterly impossible. I could not see even the steps on
which I stood. I again came out, and made Paul search in
all his pockets for the steel and flint. My curiosity in
creased with the difficulty of gratifying it j and in a little
while, when the thing seemed to be utterly impossible, with
this hole unexplored, Petra, Mount Hor, and the Dead Sea
appeared to lose half their interest. I ran up and down
the steps, inside and out, abused Paul, and struck stones
together in the hope of eliciting a spark ; but all to no pur
pose. I was in an agony of despair, when I found myself
grasping convulsively the handle of my pistol. A light
broke suddenly upon me. A pile of dry brush and cotton
rags lay at the foot of the sacrificial altar ; I fired my pistol
into it, gave one pnfi", and the whole mass was in a blaze.
Each seized a burning brand, and we descended. At the
foot of the steps was a narrow chamber, at the other end an
iron grating, opening in the middle, and behind the grating
a tomb cut in the naked rockj guarded and reverenced as
the tomb of Aaron. I tore aside the rusty grating, and
thrusting in my arm up to the shoulders, touched the hal
lowed spot. The rocks and mountains were echoing the
discharge of my pistol, like peals of crashing thunder ; and
while, with the burning brand in one hand, I was thrusting
the other through the grating, the deafening reverberations
seemed to rebuke me for an act of sacrilege, and I rushed
up the steps like a guilty and fear-struck criminal. Sud-

DESCENT OP MOUNT HOR. 75
denly I heard from the foot of the mountain a quick and ir
regular discharge of firearms, which again resounded in
loud echoes through the mountains. It was far from my
desire that the bigoted Mussulmans should come upon me,
and find me with my pistol still smoking in my hand, and
the brush still burning in the tpmb of the prophet ; and,
tearing off" a piece of the ragged pall, we hurried from the
place and dashed down the mountain on the opposite side
with a speed and recklessness that only fear could give.
If there was room for question between a scramble or a
jump, we gave the jump ; and, when we could not jump,
our shoes were off" in a moment, one leaned over the brow
of the precipice, and gave the other his hand, and down we
went, allowing nothing to stop us. Once for a moment we
were at a loss ; but Paul, who, in the excitement of one
successful leap after another, had become amazingly confi
dent, saw a stream of water, and made for it with the glori
ous boast that where water descended we could ; and the
suggestion proved correct, although the water found much
less difficulty in getting down than we did. In short, after
an ascent the most toilsome, and a descent the most hair-
brained and perilous it was ever my fortune to accomplish,
in about half an hour we were at the base of the mountain,
but still hurrying on to join our escort.
We had Only to cross a little valley to reach the regular
camel-track, when we saw from behind a slightly elevated
range of rocks the head and long neck of a dromedary ; a
Bedouin was on his back, but, riding sidewise, did not see
us. Another came, and another, and another; then two or
three, and, finally, half a dozen at a time, the blackest,
grimmest, and ugliest vagabonds I had ever yet seen. A mo
ment before Paul and I had both complained of fatigue, but
it is astonishing how the sight of these honest men revived
us ; any one seeing the manner in which we scoured along
the side of the mountain would have thought that all our

76 INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL.
consciousness was in our legs. The course we were pur
suing when we first saw them would have brought us on
the regular camel-track a little in advance of them, but now
our feet seemed to cling to the sides of the mountain. We
were in a humour for almost calling on the rocks to fall upon
ns and cover us ; and, if there had been a good dodging-
place, I am afraid I should here have to say that we had
taken advantage of it until the very unwelcome caravan
passed by ; but the whole surface of the country, whether
on mountain side or in valley's depth, was bare and naked
as a floor ; there was not a bush to obstruct the view ; and
soon we stood revealed to these unpleasant witnesses of
our agility. They all shouted to us at once ; and we re
turned the salute, looking at them over our shoulders, but
pushing on as fast as we could walk. In civilized society,
our course of proceeding would have been considered a de
cided cut ; but the unmannerly savages did not know when
they received a civil cut, and were bent on cultivating our
acquaintance. With a loud shout, slipping oiT their camels
and whipping up their dromedaries, they left the track, and
dashed across the valley to intercept us. I told Paul that
it was all over, and now we must brazen it out; and we
had just time to turn around and reconnoitre for a moment,
before we were almost trodden under foot by their drome
daries. With the accounts that we had read and heard of these
Bedouins, it was not a pleasant thing to fall into their hands
alone ; and, without the protection of the sheik, we had rea
son to apprehend bad treatment. We were on a rising
ground ; and, as they came bounding towards us, I had time
to remark that there was not a gun or pistol among them ;
but every one, old and young, big and little, carried an
enormous sword slung over his back, the hilt coming up
towards the left shoulder, and in his hand a large club,
with a knot at the end as large as a doubled fist. Though

AN AWKWARD MEETING. 77
I had no idea of making any resistance, it was a satisfaclRon
to feel that they might have some respect for our firearms ;
as even a Bedouin's logic can teach him, that though a gun
or pistol can kill but one, no 'man in a crowd can tell but
that he may be that one. Our armory, however, was not
in the best condition for immediate use. I had fired one of
my pistols in the tomb of Aaron and lost the flint of the
other ; and Paul had burst the priming cap on one of his
barrels, and the other was charged with bird-shot.
It seemed that there was nothing hostile in their inten
tions ; for though they came upon us with a wild and clam
orous shout, their dark eyes appeared to sparkle with de
light as they shook us by the hand, and their tumultuous
greeting, to compare small things with great, reminded me
of the wild welcome which the Arabs of Saladin gave to the
litter of the Queen of England, when approaching the Dia
mond of the Desert on the shores of the Dead Sea. Nev
ertheless, I looked suspiciously upon all their demonstra
tions of good-will ; and, though I returned all their greet
ings, even to the kiss on their black faces, I would rather
have been looking at them through the bars of an iron gra
ting. But Paul behaved like a hero, although he was a
supreme coward, and admitted it himself.* I knew that
everything depended upon him ; but they had come upon us
in such a hurry, and so few words had passed between us,
that I had no idea how he stood aff"ected. His first words
reassured me ; and really, if he had passed all his life in
taming Bedouins, he could not have conducted himself more
gallantly or sensibly. He shook hands with one, took a
* Paul's explanation of his cowardice was somewhat remarkable, and
perhaps veracious. He said that he was by nature brave enough, but that,
when travelling in Syria, about three years before, with Mr. Wellesley— a
natural son of the Duke of Wellington — their party was stopped by Arabs,
and their two kervashes, without any parley, raised their muskets and shot
two of the poor savages dead before his face ; which had such an effect
upon his nerves as to give him a horror of lead and cold steel ever since.
G3

78 INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL.
pipe from the mouth of another, kicked the dromedary of a
third, and patted his OAvner on the back, smoking, laughing,
and talking all the time, ringing the changes upon the Sheik
El Alouin, Habeeb Eff'endi, and Abdel Hasis. I knew that
he was lying from his remarkable amplitude of words, and
from his constantly mixing up Abdel Hasis (myselfj with
the Habeeb Eff'endi, the prime minister of the pacha ; but
he was going on so smoothly that I had not the heart to
stop him ; and besides, 1 thought he was playing for him
self as well as for me, and I had no right to piit him in
danger by interfering. At length, all talking together, and
Paul's voice rising above the rest, in force as well as fre
quency, we returned to the track, and proceeded forward
in a body to find the sheik.
Not to be too heavy on Paul for the little wanderings of
his tongue, I will barely mention such as he remembered
himself. Beginning with a solemn assurance that we had
not been in Wady Moussa or Petra (for this was his cardi
nal point), he affirmed that I was a Turk making a pilgrim
age to the tomb of Aaron under a vow ; and that, when
Sheik El Alouin was at Cairo, the Habeeb Eff'endi had
taken me to the sheik's tent, and had told him to conduct
me to Djebel Haroun, or Mount Hor, and from thence to
Hebron (Khalil), and that, if I arrived in safety, he, the
Habeeb Eff'endi, would pay him well for it. We went on
very well for a little while ; but by-and-by the Bedouins
began talking earnestly among themselves, and a fine, wick
ed-looking boy, leaning down from the hump of his bare
backed dromedary, with sparkling eyes thrust out his hand
and whispered bucksheesh ; an old dried-up man echoed it
in a hoarse voice directly in my ears ; and one after an
other joined in, till the whole party, with their deep-toned
gutturals, were croaking the odious and ominous demand
that grated harshly on my nerves. Their black eyes were
turned upon me with a keen and eager brightness ; the

all's well that ENDS WELL. 79
harsh cry was growing louder every moment ; and I had
already congratulated myself upon having very little about
my person, and Paul was looking over his shoulders, and
ffourishing the Habeeb Eff'endi and the Sheik El Alouin
with as loud a voice as ever, but evidently with a fainting
heart ; bucksheesh, bucksheesh, bucksheesh was drowning
every other noise, when a sudden turn in the road brought
us upon the sheik and his attendants. The whole party
were in confusion ; some were descending the bare sides
of the mountains, others were coming down with their
dromedaries upon a full run ; the sheik's brother, on my
horse, was galloping along the base ; and the sheik himself^
with his long red dress streaming in the wind, and hia
spear poised in the air, was dashing full speed across the
plain. All seemed to catch a glimpse of us at the same
moment, and at the same moment all stopped. The sheik
stood for a little space, as if astonished and confounded at
seeing us attended by such an escort ; and then spurring
again his fiery horse, moved a few paces towards us, and
dismounting, struck his spear in the sand, and waited to re
ceive us. The men came in from all quarters ; and, almost
at the same moment, all had gathered around the spear.
The sheik seemed more alarmed than any of us, and Paul
said he turned perfectly green. He had heard the report
of the pistol, which had given him much uneasiness ; the
men had answered, and scattered themselves abroad in
search of us ; and now seeing us come up in the midst of
such a horde of Bedouins, he supposed that we had opened
an account which could only be settled with blood.
The spirit of lying seemed to have taken possession of
us. Thinking it would not be particularly acceptable to
my pious friends to hear that I had been shooting in the
tomb of Aaron, I told Paul to say that we had shot at a
partridge. Even before saluting the strangers, with a hur
ried voice and quivering lip, the sheik asked the cause of

80 INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL.
our firing ; and when Paul told him, according to my in
structions, that the cause was merely a simple bird, he was
evidently relieved, although, unable to master his emotion,
he -muttered, " Cursed be the partridge, and cursed the gun,
and cursed the hand that fired it." He then sainted our
new companions, and all sat down around his long spear
to smoke and drink coff'ee. I withdrew a little apart from
them, and threw myself on the ground, and then" began to
suff'er severely from a pain which, in my constant excite
ment since the cause of it occurred, I had not felt. The
pistol which I fired in the tomb had been charged by Paul
with two balls, and powder enough for a musket ; and in
the firing it recoiled with such force as to- lay open the
back of my hand to the bone. While I was binding it up
as well as I could, the sheik was taking care that I should
not suflfer from my withdrawal. I have mentioned Paul's ly
ing humour, and my own tendency that way ; but the sheik
cast all our doings in the shade ; and particularly, as if it
had been concerted beforehand, he averred most solemnly,
and with the most determined look of truth imaginable, that
we had not been in Wady Moussa ; that I was a Turk on
a pilgrimage to Mount Hor ; that when he was in Cairo
waiting for the caravan of pilgTims, the pacha sent the Ha
beeb Eff'endi to conduct him to the citadel, whither he went,
and found me sitting on the divan by the side of the pacha ;
that the pacha took me by the hand, told him that I was
his (the pacha's) particular friend, and that he. Sheik El
Alouin, must conduct me first to Mount Hor, and then to
Kha.lil or Hebron, and that he had given his head to Mo
hammed Aly for my safety. Paul was constantly moving
between me and the group around the spear, and advising
me of the progress of aff'airs ; and when I heard who I was,
and of my intimacy with the pacha, thinking that it was
not exactly the thing for the particular friend of the Viceroy
of Egypt to be sprawling on the sand, I got up, and, for the

ARAB FATALISM. 81
credit of my friend, put myself rather more upon my digni
ty. We remained here half an hour, when, seeing that
matters became no worse, I took it for granted that they
were better ; and, after moving about a little, I began to ar
range the saddle of my horse ; "and, by-and-by, as a sort of
declaration of independence, I told them that I would ride
on slowly, and they could follow at their convenience. The
sheik remained to settle with my new friends. They
were a caravan belonging to the El Alouin tribe, from the
tents at the mouth of the entrance to Petra, now on their
way to Gaza ; and the sheik got rid of them by paying
them something, and assuring them that we had not been
in Petra.
Early in the afternoon a favourite cameLwas taken sick,
stumbled, and fell ; and we turned aside among the mount
ains, where we were completely hidden from the view of
any passing Bedouins. -The camel belonged to a former
female slave of the sheik, whom he had manumitted and
married to " his black," and to whom he had given a tent
and this camel as a dowry. He had been very anxious to
get away as far as possible from Wady Moussa that night ;
but, as soon as the accident happened, with the expression
always uppermost in the mouth of the followers of the
Prophet, " God wills it," he began to doctor the animal. It
was strange to be brought into such immediate contact with
the disciples of fatalism. If we did not reach the point we
were aiming at, God willed it ; if it rained, God willed it ;
and I suppose that, if they had happened to lay their black
hands upon my throat, and stripped me of everything I pos
sessed, they would have piously raised their eyes to heav
en, and cried, " God willed it." I remember Mr. Wolff',*
* The Rev. Joseph Wolff is now in this country, and has taken orders
in the Episcopal Church here.- When I left Egypt he had set out on his
long-projected journey to Timbuctoo. He was taken sick in Abyssinia,
and, unable to continue. his progress, under great personal hardship and

82 INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL.
the converted Jew missionary, told me an anecdote illus
trating most strikingly the operation of this fatalist creed.
He was in Aleppo during an earthquake, and saw two Turks
smoking their pipes at the base of a house then tottering
and ready to fall. He cried out to them and warned them
of their peril ; but they turned their eyes to the impending
danger, and crying, " Allah el Allah," " God is merciful,"
were buried under the ruins.
It was not more than four o'clock when we pitched our
tent. The Arabs all came under the shade to talk more at
ease about our ascent of Mount Hor, and our adventure
with the Bedouins of Wady Moussa ; and wishing to show
them that we Christians conceived ourselves to have some
rights and interests in Aaron, I read to them, and Paul ex
plained, the verses in the Bible recording his death and
burial on the mountain. They were astonished and con
founded at finding anything about him in a book ; records
of travel being entirely unknown to them, and books, there
fore, regarded as of unquestionable veracity. The unbe
liever of the previous night, however, was now as obstinate
as if he had come from the banks of the Zuyder Zee. He
still contended that the great high-priest of the JeWs was a
true follower of the Prophet ; and I at last accommodated
the matter by allowing that he was not a Christian.
That evening Paul and the sheik had a long and curious
conversation. After supper, and over their pipes and cof
fee, the sheik asked him, as a brother, why we had come
suffering, crossed the desert to the Red Sea, and went down to Bombay.
It is greatly to be regretted that Mr. Wolffs health failed him. From his
extensive travels in Asia and Africa, and his intimate knowledge of the
languages and customs of the wild tribes that roam over their deserts, he
was probably better qualified, and had a better chance pf reaching that city,
than any other man now living. It will probably be long before the attempt
is made by another. Mr. Wolff has notj however, abandoned his purpose.
As soon as his health will permit he intends to resume his journey, and,
if the dilEculties and dangers are not greater than man can overcome, we
may yet hear from him in the heart of Africa,

ARAB NOTIONS OP TRAVEL. 83
to that old city, Wady Moussa, so long a journey through
the desert, spending so much money ; and when Paul told
him it was to see the ruins, he took the pipe from his
mouth, and said, " That will do very well before the world ;
but, between ourselves, there is something else ;" and when
Paul persisted in it, the sheik said to him, " Swear by
your God that you do not come here to search for treas
ure ;" and when Paul had sworn by his God, the sheik rose,
and, pointing to his brother as the very acme of honesty
and truth, said, after a moment's hesitation, " Osman, I
would not believe it if that brother had sworn it. No," he
continued, " the Europeans are too cunning to spend their
money in looking at old stones. I know there is treasure
in Wady Moussa ; I have dug for it, and I mean to dig for
it again ;'' and then again he asked Paul whether he had
discovered any, and where ; telling him that he would aid
in removing it, without letting any of the rest of the tribe
know anything of the matter.

84 INCIDENTS or TRAVEL.

CHAPTER VL
Valley of El Ghor.— Prophecies against Edom.— The Sheik's Treachery.—
An Explosion.' — Personnel of the Arabs.— Amusing Retrospect.^Money
Troubles. — Aspect of the Valley, — Death of a CameJ. — The Desert
Horses. — Native Salt.
Early in the morning we continued our descent down
the mountain. Every turn was presenting us with a new
view of wild, barren, and desolate scenery ; and yet fre
quently, in little spots watered by the mountain streams, we
saw shrubs, and patches of green grass, and odoriferous
bushes. At about nine o'clock we were again at the foot of
the mountains of Seir, again moving along the great desert
valley of El Ghor ; and again I saw, in imagination, at the
extreme end of the vail ey7 that mysterious sea which I had
first looked upon from the summit of Mount Hor. I had
spoken to the sheik before, and again I tried to prevail upon
him to follow the valley directly to its shoi-es ; but he told
me, as before, that he had never travelled that road, and
the Bedouins (whom he had last night declared to be total
strangers) were deadly enemies of his tribe ; in short, it was
impossible to prevail upon him ; and, as I found afterward,
it would have been physically impossible to proceed along
the mountainous borders of the sea.
We pursued the route which I had originally contempla^
ted, through the land of Idumea. In regard to this part of
my journey I wish to be particiflarly understood. Three
diff'erent parties, at diflferent times and imder diff"erent cir
cumstances, after an interval of twenty years from its dis
covery by Burckhardt, had entered the city of Petra, but

PROPHECIES AGAINST EDOM. 85
not one of them had passed through the land of Idumea.
The route of the two Englishmen and Italian before referred
to was not precisely known ; and, with the exception of
these three, I was the first traveller who had ever attempted
to pass through the doomed and blighted Edom. In very
truth, the prophecy of Isaiah, " None shall pass through it
for ever and ever," seemed in a state of literal fulfilment.
And now, without considering that I was perhaps braving
the malediction of Heaven, but stimulated by the interest of
associations connected with the denounced region, and the
excitement of travelling over a new and unbeaten track, I
was again moving along the desert valley of El Ghor.
In the present state of the world, it is an unusual thing to
travel a road over which hundreds have not passed before.
Europe, Asia, and even the sands of Africa, have been over
run and trodden down by the feet of travellers ; but in the
land of Idumea, the oldest country in the world, the aspect
of everything is new and strange, and the very sands you
tread on have never been trodden by the feet of civilized
human beings. The Bedouin roams over them like the In
dian on our native prairies. The road along which the
stranger journeys was far better known in the days of David
and Solomon than it is now ; and when he tires with the
contemplation of barrenness and ruin, he may take the Bible
in his hand, and read what Edom was, and how God, by
the mouth of his prophets, cursed it ; and see with his own
eyes whether God's words be true. " Also Edom shall be
a desolation ; every one that goeth by it shall be astonished,
and shall hiss at all the plagues thereof. As in the overthrow
of Sodom and Gomorrah, and the neighbouring cities thereof,
saith the Lord, no man shall abide there, neither shall a son
of man dwell in it. Therefore, hear the counsel of the Lord
that he hath taken against Edom ; and his purposes that he
hath purposed against the inhabitants of Teman ; surely the
least of the flock shall draw them out ; surely he shall make
Vol. n.— H

86 INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL.
their habitations desolate with them. The earth is moved
at the noise of their fall, at the cry, the noise thereof was
heard in the Red Sea."* And again. " Thus saith the
Lord God : Because that Edom hath dealt against the house
of Judah by taking vengeance, and hath greatly offended,
and revenged himself upon them ; therefore, thus saith the
Lord God, I will also stretch out mine hand upon Edom,
and will cut off" man and beast from it ; and I will make it
desolate from Teman."t " Edom shall be a desolate wil
derness.":}: " For three transgressions of Edom, and for
four, I will not turn away the punishment thereof."§ " Thus
saith the Lord God concerning Edom : Behold, I have made
thee small among the heathen : thou art greatly despised.
The pride of thine heart hath deceived thee, thou that dwel
lest in the clefts of the rock, whose habitation is high ; that
saith in his heart, Who shall bring me down to the ground ?
Though thou exalt thyself as the eagle, and though thou set
thy nest among the stars, thence wiU I bring thee down,
saith the Lord. Shall I not in that day, saith the Lord, even
destroy the wise men out of Edom, and understanding out
of the mount of Esau ? And thy mighty men, oh Teman,
shall be dismayed, to the end that every one of the mount
of Esau may be cut off by slaughter."]]
All that day the sheik was particularly disagreeable. He
was constantly talking of the favourable circumstances
under which I had seen Petra, the bad character of the
Bedouins, his devotion to me, and the generosity of Mr. La
borde and Abdel Hag. Ever since we started, one of his
standing subjects of conversation with Paul had been what
he expected from me ; and to-day he pressed him particu
larly, to learn how much money I had brought with roe. In
the evening he came to my tent. He was in the habit of
coming in every evening ; and, though I did not like him, I
* Jeremiah xlix. t Ezekiel xxv. J Joel iii., 19.
i Amosi., n. II Obadiahi.

THE SHBIK's TREACHERY. 87
was in the habit of talking with him ; and, according to the
Arab custom, I always asked him to take a share of my
meal. In general, appease the stomach, and you gain the
heart of the Arab ; but the viscera of my sheik were of im
penetrable toughness. They produced none of that deli
cious repose, that " peace on earth, and good-will towards
all men" spirit, which comes over an honest man after din
ner. " A child might play with me,'' said the good-hearted
son of Erin, as he threw himself back in his chair after
diimer; but it was not so with my sheik. While he was
eating my bread, he was plotting against me. I had smoked
my pipe, and was lying on my mat reading, while a long
conversation was going on between him and Paul, and my
suspicions were aroused ; for, on the part of the sheik, it
was carried on in a low whisper. Though he knew I could
not understand a word, he had the indefinite fear that indi
cates a guilty intention ; and, as I looked up occasionally
from my book, I saw his keen and cunning eyes turned to
wards me, and withdrawn as soon as they met mine. He
remained there more than an hour, conversing in the same
low whisper ; I, meanwhile, watching his looks from time
to time ; and when he had gone I asked what it all meant.
At first Paul hesitated, but finally said that it was the old
story about Abdel Hag's generosity, and what he expected
from me ; for himself, the sheik expected at least two hun
dred and fifty dollars ; his brother would not expect so
much ; but that he was on an entirely diflferent footing from
the men; and he had concluded, by attempting to bribe
Paul, to find out how much money I had with me, and how
much I intended to give him ; and, in going out, had slipped
a couple of pieces into Paul's hand as an earnest. I have
not troubled the reader with the many petty difficulties I
had with the sheik, nor the many little circumstances that
were constantly occurring to irritate me against him. I had
been several times worked up to such a pitch that it was

8S INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL.
difficult to keep within the bounds of prudence ; and I now
broke through all restraints. From the beginning he had
been exaggerating the danger of the road, and making a pa
rade of devotion of the value of his services ; and only the
last night I had been driven out of my tent by four enormous
fires which he had built at the four comers, as he said, for
the men to sleep by and keep guard. I could hardly re
strain myself then ; but merely telling him that I would
rather be robbed than roasted, I reserved myself for a better
moment. The fact is, from the beginning I had been com
pletely mistaken in my opinion touching the character of
the chief of a powerful tribe of Bedouins. I had imagined
him like the chief of a tribe of our own Indians, wild, sav
age, and lawless, but generous and true when he had once
off"ered his protection ; one who might rob or even mur
der, but who would never descend to the meanness of
trickery and falsehood.
I had been smothering my feelings of contempt through
the whole journey ; but now I had seen Petra and Mount
Hor, and it was a relief to have something to justify me in
my own eyes in breaking through all restraint. I had
caught him in the very act of baseness and villany, corrupt
ing the faith of my servant ; bribing under nly own eyes,
and while eating my bread, the only man on whom I could
rely at all ; and the proof of his treason, the accursed gold,
was before me. With a loud voice I called him back to
the tent, and charged him with his baseness, reproaching
him that I had come into the desert upon the faith of his
promises, and he had endeavoured to corrupt my servant
before my eyes ; I told him that he was false and faithless ;
that I had before distrusted him, but that I now despised
him, and would not give him a para till we got to Hebron,
nor would I tell him how much I would give him then ; but
that, if he would take himself off and leave me alone in the
desert, I would pay him the price of his camels ; I assured

AN EXPLOSION. 89
him that, bad as he represented them, I did not believe
there was a worse Arab in all his tribe than himself;
and finally, throwing open my trunk, I told him that I did
not fear him or all his tribe ; that I had there a certain
sum of money, which should belong to the man who should
conduct me to Hebron, whoever he might be, and clothes
which would not suit an Arab's back ; that I knew I was
in his power ; but that, if they killed me, they could not
get more than they could without it ; and added, turning
my pistols in my belt, that they should not get it while I
could defend it. All this, passing through an interpreter,
had given me time to cool ; and, before coming to my grand
climax, though still highly indignant, I was able to observe
the eff'ect of my words. At the first glance I saw that I
had the vantage ground, and that the consciousness of be
ing detected in his baseness sealed his lips. I am inclined
to think that he would have been disgraced in the eyes of
his tribe if they had been acquainted with the circum
stances ; for, instead of resenting my passionate language,
he earnestly begged me to lower my voice, and frequently
looked out of the tent to see if any of his companions were
near. Keep cool is a good maxim, generally, in a man's
walk through life, and it is particularly useful with the Bed
ouins in the desert ; but there are times when it is good to
be in a passion, and this was one of them. Without at
tempting to resent what I said, even by word or look, he
came up to me, kissed my hand, and swore that he would
never mention the subject of bucksheesh again until we got
to Hebron, and he did not. I retained my command over
him through the whole journey, while he was constantly at
my side, taking my horse, holding my stirrup, and in every
way trying to make himself useful. I am not sure, how
ever, but that, in his new character of a sycophant, he was
worse than before. A sycophant in civilized life, where
the usages of society admit, and perhaps demand, a certain
H3

90 INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL.
degree of unmeant civility, is the most contemptible thing
that crawls ; but in a wild Arab it was intolerable. I really
despised him, and made no secret of it ; and sometimes,
rash and imprudent as was the bare thought, it was with
the greatest difficulty that I could keep from giving him my
foot. After he had gone out that night, Paul sewed twenty
gold pieces in the collar of my jacket, and I left the rest of
my money open in my trunk.
I have frequently been astonished at the entire absence
of apprehension which accompanied me during the whole
of this journey. I fortunately observed, at the very first,
an intention of exaggerating its danger ; and this and other
little things carried me into the other extreme to such a
degree, that perhaps my eyes were closed against the real
dangers. Among all the pictures and descriptions of rob
bers and bandits that 1 have seen, I have never met with
anything so unprepossessing as a party of desert Arabs
coming down upon the traveller on their dromedaries ; but
one soon gets over the effect of their dark and scowling
visages ; and, after becoming acquainted with their weap
ons and bodily strength, a man of ordinary vigour, well
armed, feels no little confidence in himself among them.
They are small in stature, under our middle size, and thin
almost to emaciation. Indeed, the same degree of spare-
ness in Europeans would be deemed the eflfect of illness or
starvation ; but with them it seems to be a mere drying up
of the fluids, or, as it were, an attraction between skin and
bone, which prevents flesh from insinuating itself between.
Their breast-bones stand out very prominently ; their ribs
are as distinctly perceptible as the bars of a gridiron, and
their empty stomachs seem drawn up till they touch the
back-bone ; and their weapons, though ugly enough, are
far from being formidable. The sheik was the only one
of our party who carried pistols, and I do not believe they
could have been discharged without picking the flints once

AMUSING RETROSPECT. 91
or twice ; the rest had swords and matchlock guns ; the
latter, of course, not to be fired without first striking a light,
which is not the work of a moment ; and although these
inconvenient implements do well enough for contests with
their brother Bedouins, the odds are very much against
them when they have to do with a well-armed Frank ; two
pairs of good pistols and a double-barrelled gun would have
been a match for all our matchlock muskets. Besides all
this, one naturally feels a confidence in himself after being
some time left to his own resources ; a development of ca
pacities and energies which he is entirely unconscious of
possessing, until he is placed in a situation to call them out.
A man must have been in the desert alone, and beyond the
reach of help, where his voice can never reach the ears of
his distant friends, with a strong and overwhelming sense
that everything depends upon himself, his own coolness
and discretion ; and such is the elasticity of the human
character, that his spirit, instead of sinking and quailing as
it would once have done under difficulties and dangers in
comparably less, rises with the occasion ; and as he draws
his sash or tightens his sword belt, he stretches himself to
his full length, and is prepared and ready for any emergen
cy that may befall him. Indeed, now that I have returned
to the peaceful occupations of civilized life, I often look
back with a species of mirthful feeling upon my journey in
the desert as a strange and amusing episode in my life ;
and, when laying my head on my quiet pillow, I can hard
ly believe that, but a few months ago, I never slept without
first placing my pistols carefully by my side, and never
woke without putting forth my hand to ascertain that they
were near and ready for instant use.
I had scarcely mounted the next morning before one of
the men came up to me, and, telling me that he intended to
return home, asked for his bucksheesh. I looked at the

92 INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL.
sheik, who was still sitting on the ground, enjoying a last
sip of coffee, and apparently taking no notice of us, and it
immediately occurred to me that this was another scheme
of his to find out how much I intended to give. The idea
had no sooner occurred to me than I determined to sustain
the tone I had assumed the night before ; and I therefore
told the fellow that I should not pay any one a piaster until
I arrived at Hebron. This occasioned a great clamour ;
the sheik still remained silent, but all the others took up
the matter, and I do not know how far it would have gone
if I had persisted. I was the only one mounted ; and,
having given my answer, I turned my horse's head, and
moved on a few paces, looking over my shoulder, however,
to watch the effect ; and when I saw them still standing,
as if spellbound, in the unfinished act, one of mounting a
dromedary, another of arranging the baggage, and all appa
rently undecided what to do, 1 reflected that no good could
come from the deliberations of such men, and began to re
pent somewhat of the high tone I had assumed. I only
wanted a good excuse to retrace my steps ; and, after a
moment's reflection, I laid hold of something plausible
enough for immediate use. The man who wanted to re
turn was rather a favourite with me — the same who had
carried me on his shoulders up the stream in the entrance of
Petra — and, returning suddenly, as if the thing had just oc
curred to me, I called him to me, and told him that, although
I would not pay him for accompanying me on my journey,
as it was not yet endpd, still, for his extra services in Pe
tra, I would not let him go home destitute ; that I loved
him— by which I meant that I liked him, an expression
that would have been entirely too cold for " the land of the
East and the clime of the sun," or, as I should rather say,
for the extravagant and inflated style of the Arabs — that if
the same thing had happened with any of the others, I
would not have given him a para ; and now he must un-

MONEY TROUBLES. 93
derstand that I only paid him for his services in Petra.
This seemed natural enough to the other Bedouins, for they
all knew that this man and I had returned from the defile
the best friends in the world, calling each other brother,
&c. ; and, in the end, the whole affair turned out rather
fortunately ; for, understanding me literally that I paid only
for the day in Petra, although not understanding the rule of
three as established in the books of arithmetic, they worked
out the problem after their own fashion, " If one day gives
so much, what will so many days give 1" and were exceed
ing satisfied with the result. Indeed, I believe I might at
any time have stopped their mouths, and relieved myself
from much annoyance, by promising them an extravagant
sum on my arrival at Hebron ; but this I would not do. I
had not, from the first, held out to them any extravagant
expectations, nor would I do so then ; perhaps, after all,
not so much from a stern sense of principle, as from having
conceived a feeling of strong though smothered indignation
and contempt for the sheik. Indeed, I should not have
considered it safe to tell him what I intended to give him ;
for I soon saw that the amount estimated by Mr. GHddon
and niyself was very far from being sufficient to satisfy his
own and his men's extravagant expectations. My appa
rent indifi'erence perplexed the sheik, and he was sorely
confounded by my valiant declaration, "There is my trunk ;
all that is in it is yours when we arrive at Hebron ; rob
me or kill me, and you get no more ;" and, though he could
not conceal his eagerness and rapacity, he felt himself
trammelled ; and my plan was to prolong his indecision,
and postpone our denouement until our arrival at Hebron.
Still, it was very unpleasant to be travelling upon these terms
with my protectors, and I was exceedingly glad when the
journey was over.
We were again journeying along the valley in an oblique
direction. In the afternoon we fell in with a caravan for

94 INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL.
Gaza. It may be that I wronged the sheik ; but I had the
idea that, whenever we saw strangers, his deep and hurried
manner of pronouncing El Arab, his fixing himself in his
saddle, poising his spear, and getting the caravan in order,
frequently accompanying these movements with the cau
tioning words not to be afraid, that he would fight for me
till death, were intended altogether for effect upon me.
Whether he had any influence or not with the caravan for
Gaza, I cannot say ; but I know that I would have been
glad to leave the wandering tribes of the land of Idumea,
and go with my new companions to the ancient city of the
Philistines. While we moved along together, Paul and
myself got upon excellent terms with them, and consulted
for a good while about asking them to take us under their
escort. I have no doubt- they would have done it willingly,
for they were a fine, manly set of fellows ; but we were de
terred by the fear of involving them in a quarrel, if not a
fight, with our own men.
The valley continued the same as before, presenting
sandy hillocks, thorn-bushes, gullies, the dry beds of streams,
and furnishing all the way incontestible evidence that it had
once been covered with the waters of a river. To one
travelling along that dreary road as a geologist, every step
opens a new page in the great book of Nature ; carrying
him back to the time when all was chaos, and darkness
covered the face of the earth ; the impressions it conveys
are of a confused mass of matter settling into " form and sub
stance," the earth covered with a mighty deluge, the waters
retiring, and leaving bare the mountains above him, and a
rolling river at his feet ; and, by the regular operation of
natural causes, the river contracting and disappearing, and
for thousands of years leaving its channel-bed dry. And
again, he who, in the wonders around him, seeks the evi
dences of events recorded in the sacred volume, here finds
them in the abundant tokens that the shower of fire and

DEATH OF A CAMEL. 95
brimstone which descended upon the guilty cities of Sodom
and Gomorrah stopped the course of the Jordan, and formed
It into a pestilential lake, and left the dry bed of a river in
the desolate valley in which he is journeying. This valley
is part of the once populous land of Idumea ; in the days of
Solomon, t'ne great travelled highway by which he received
the gold of Ophir for the temple ; and by which, in the days
of imperial Rome, the wealth of India was brought to her
doors. About the middle of the day, as usual, the sheik rode
ahead, and, striking his spear in the sand, he had coff'ee pre
pared before we came up. While we were sitting around
the spear, two of our camels so far forgot the calm dignity
of their nature, and their staid, quiet habits, as to get irto a
fight ; and one of them, finding himself likely to come off"
second best, took to his heels, and the other after him ;
they were baggage camels, one being charged with my
boxes of provisions and housekeeping apparatus, and his
movements indicated death to crockery. I will not go into
particulars, for eggs, rice^ macaroni, and lamp-oil make a
bad mixture ; and though the race and fight between the
loaded camels were rather ludicrous, the consequence was
by no means a pleasant thing in the desert.
The next morning we had another camel scene ; for one
of the combatants was stretched upon the sand, his bed
of death. The Bedouins had examined him, and, satis
fied that the hand of death was upon him, they left him to
breathe his last alone. The camel is to the Arab a treasure
above all price. He is the only animal by nature and con
stitution framed for the desert, for he alone can travel sev
eral days without eating or drinking. Every part of him is
useful ; his milk is their drink, his flesh their food, and his
hair supplies materials for their rude garments and tents.
Besides this, the creature is domesticated with the Bedouin ;
grows up in his tent, feeds from his hand, kneels down to

96 INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL.
receive his burden, and rises as if glad to carry his master ,
and, in short, is so much a part of a Bedouin's family, that
often, in speaking of himself, the Bedouin will say that he
has so many wives, so many children, and so many camels.
All these things considered, when this morning they knew
that the camel must die, I expected, in a rough way, some
thing like Sterne's picture of the old man and his ass. But
I saw nothing of the kind ; they left him in the last stages
of his struggle with the great enemy with as much indifi'er
ence, I was going to say, as if he had been a brute ; and he
was a brute; but it was almost worth a passing tear to
leave even a Iwute to die alone in the desert ; one that we
knew, that had travelled with us, and formed part of our
little world ; but the only lament the sheik made was, that
they had lost twenty dollars, and we left him to die in the
sand. I could almost have remained myself to close his
eyes. The vultures were already hovering over him, and
once I went back and drove them away ; but I have no
doubt that, before the poor beast was dead, the horrid birds
had picked out his eyes, and thrust their murderous beaks
into his brain.
It was, as usual, a fine day. Since we left Akaba we had
a continued succession of the most delightful weather I had
ever experienced. I was, no doubt, peculiarly susceptible
to the influence of weather. With a malady constantly hang
ing about me, if I drooped, a bright sun and an un
clouded sky could at any time revive me ; and more than
once, when I have risen flushed and feverish, and but little
refreshed with sleep, the clear, pure air of the morning has
given me a new life. From dragging one leg slowly after
the other, I have fairly jumped into the saddle, and my noble
Arabian, in such cases, always completed what the fresh
air of the morning had begun. Indeed, I felt then that I
could not be too thankful for those two things, uncommonly
fine weather and an uncommonly fine horse ; and I consid-

THE DESERT HORSES. 97
ered that it was almost solely those two that sustained me on
that journey. It is part of the historical account of the Bed
ouins' horses, that the mares are never sold. My sheik would
have sold his soul for a price ; and, as soon as he saw that
I was pleased with my mare, he wanted to sell her to me ;
and it was singular and amusing, in chaffering for this ani
mal, to mark how one of the habits of bargain-making, pe
culiar to the horse-jockey with us, existed in full force
among the Arabs ; he said that he did not want to sell her ;
that at Cairo he had been offered two hundred and fifty
dollars, a new dress, and arms complete, and he would not
sell her ; but if / wanted her, there being nothing he would
not do for me, &c., I might have her.
The sheik's was an extraordinary animal. The saddle had
not been off" her back for thirty days ; and the sheik, him
self a most restless creature, would dash off" suddenly a
dozen times a day, on a full run across the valley, up the
sides of a mountain, round and round our caravan, with his
long spear poised in the air, and his dress streaming in the
wind ; and when he returned and brought her to a walk at my
side, the beautiful animal would snort and paw the ground
as if proud of what she had done, and anxious for another
course. I could almost imagine I saw the ancient war-
horse of Idumea, so finely described by Job — " His neck
clothed with thunder. Canst thou make him afraid as a
grasshopper? the glory of his nostrils is terrible. He
paweth in the valley, and rejoiceth in his strength ; he
goeth on to meet the armed men. He mocketh at fear, and
is not aflfrighted ; neither turneth he back from the sword.
The quiver rattleth against him, the glittering spear and the
shield. He swalloweth the ground with fierceness and
rage ; neither believeth he that it is the sound of the trum
pet. He saith among the trumpets, ha, ha ; and he smel-
leth the battle afar off, the thunder of the captains, and the
shouting." Vol. II.— I

98 INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL.
Nothing showed the hardiness of these horses more than
their drinking. Several times we came to deposites of
rainwater left in the hollow of a rock, so foul and dirty that
I would not have given it to a dog ; and while their sides
were white with foam, the sheik would take the bits out of
their mouths, and sit down with the bridle in his hands, and
let them drink their fill ; and I could not help thinking that
a regular-bred English groom, accustomed to insinuate a
wet sponge in the mouth of a heated horse, would have
been amazed and horrified at such a barbarian usage.
These two horses were twelve and twenty years old re
spectively ; and the former was more like a colt in playful
ness and spirit, and the other like a horse of ten with us ;
and the sheik told me that he could count upon the services
of both until they were thirty-five. Among all the recom
mendations of the Arabian horse, I know none greater than
this ; I have known a man, from long habit, conceive a li
king for a vicious jade that no one else would mount ; and
one can imagine how warm must be the feeling, when, year
after year, the best of his race is the companion of the wan
dering Arab, and the same animal may bear him from the
time when he can first poise a spear until his aged frame
can scarcely sustain itself in the saddle.
Before leaving the valley, we found in one of the gtillies
a large stone veined in that peculiar manner which I had no
ticed at Petra ; it had been washed down from the mount
ains of Wady Moussa, and the Arab told me that stone of
the same kind was found nowhere else. Towards evening
we had crossed the valley, and were at the foot of the mount
ains of Judea, in the direction of the southern extremity of
the Dead Sea. That evening, I remember, I noticed a cir
cumstance which called to my mind the wonderful accounts
handed down to us by Strabo and other ancient historians,
of large cities built of salt having stood at the southern ex
tremity of the Dead Sea and the valley beyond. In the es-

NATIVE SALT. 99
capade of our runaway camels, bringing about the catastro
phe which one of them had since expiated with his life,
they had mingled together in horrible confusion, contrary to
all the rules of art, so many discordant ingredients, that a
great portion of my larder was spoiled ; and, among other
things, salt, almost as necessary to man as bread, had com
pletely lost its savour. But the Bedouins, habituated to
wanting almost everything, knew where to find all that their
barren country could give ; and one of them leaving the
tents for a few moments, returned with a small quantity
that he had picked up for immediate use, being a cake or
incrustation about as large as the head of a barrel ; and I
afterward saw regular strata of it, and in large quantities,
in the sides of the mountains.

100 INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL

CHAPTER Vn.
The Road to Gaza.— Unknown Ruins. — A Misadventure. — Pastoral Bea
ouins.— A Flower of the Wilderness. — The Ravages of War.— Testimony
of an Eyewitness.
We started at six o'clock the next day, the morning ra
ther cool, though clear and bracing ; we were again among
the mountains, and at about eleven a-track scarcely distin
guishable to my eye turned off to Gaza. To a traveller
from such a country as ours, few of the little every-day
wonders he is constantly noticing strike him more forcibly
than the character of the great public roads in the East.
He makes allowance for the natural wildness of the country,
the impossibility of using wheel-carriages on the mountains,
or horses in the desert as beasts of burden, but still he is
surprised and disappointed. Here, for instance, was a road
leading to the ancient city of Gaza, a regular caravan route
for four thousand years, and yet so perfect in the wildness
of nature, so undistinguishable in its appearance from other
portions of the wilderness around, that a stranger would
have passed the little opening in the rocks probably with
out noticing it, and certainly without imagining that the
wild track, of which it formed the entrance, would conduct
him to the birthplace and ancient capital of David, and the
holy city of Jerusalem. The solitary trail of the Indian
over our prairies and forests is more perfectly marked as a
road than either of the great routes to Gaza or Jerusalem-
and yet, near the spot where these two roads diverge are
the ruins of an ancient city.
Little, if anything, has been known in modern days con-

UNKNOWN RUINS. 101
ceming the existence and distinguishing features of this
road ; and it is completely a terra incognita to modern trav
ellers. All the knowledge possessed of it is that derived
from the records of ancient histoty ; and from these we
learn that in the time of David and Solomon, and the later
days of the Roman empire, a great public road existed from
Jerusalem to Akaba, the ancient Eloth or Ezion-geber ; that
several cities existed upon it between these terminating
points, and that their ruins should still be visible. Believ
ing that I am the first traveller who has ever seen those
ruins, none can regret more than myself my inability to add
to the scanty stock of knowledge already in possession of
geographers. If my health had permitted, I might have in
vestigated and explored, noted observations, and treasured
up facts and circumstances, to place them in the hands of
wiser men for their conclusions ; but I was not equal to the
task. The ruins which I saw were a confused and shape
less mass, and I rode among them without dismounting ;
there were no columns, no blocks of marble, or large stones
which indicated any architectural greatness, and the ap
pearance of the ruins would answer the historical descrip
tion of a third or fourth rate city.
About three hours farther on, and half a mile from our
path, on the right, was a quadrangular arch with a dome ;
and near it was a low stone building, also arched, which
might have been a small temple. The Bedouins, as usual,
referred it to the times of the Christians. For about a mile,
in diffisrent places on each side of us, were mounds of
crumbling ruins ; and directly on the caravan-track we
came to a little elevation, where were two remarkable wells,
of the very best Roman workmanship, about fifty feet deep,
lined with large hard stones, as firm and perfect as on the
day in which they were laid. The uppermost layer, round
the top of the well, which was on a level with the pavement,
was of marble, ajjd had many grooves cut in it, apparently
I!J

102 INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL.
worn by the long-continued use of ropes in drawing water.
Around each of the wells were circular ranges of columns,
which, when the city existed, and the inhabitants came
there to drink, might and probably did support a roof simi
lar to those now seen over the fountains in Constantinople.
No remains of such roof, however, are existing ; and the
columns are broken, several of them standing not more than
three or four feet high, and the tops scooped out to serve
as troughs for thirsty camels. On the other side, a little in
the rear of the wells, is a hill overlooking the scattered
ruins below, which may, some hundred years ago, have been
the Acropolis of the city. A strong wall seems to have ex
tended around the whole summit level of the hill. I re
member that I rode up to the summit, winding around the
hill, and leaped my horse over the broken wall ; but there
was nothing to reward me for the exertion of the under
taking. The enclosure formed by the wall was filled with
ruins, but I could give form or feature to none of them ;
here, too, I rode among them without dismounting ; and
from here I could see the whole extent of the ruins below.
As in the ruined city I had just passed, there was not a
solitary inhabitant, and not a living being was to be seen
but my companions watering their camels at the ancient
wells. This, no doubt, was another of the Roman cities ;
and although it was probably never celebrated for architec
tural or monumental beauty, it must have contained a large
population. We were now coming into another country, and leaving
the desert behind us ; a scanty verdure was beginning to
cover the mountains ; but the smiling prospect before me
was for a moment overclouded by an unfortunate accident.
Paul had lent his dromedary to one of the men ; and riding
carelessly on a baggage-camel, in ascending a rough hill
the girths of the saddle gave way, and Paul, boxes, and
baggage, all came down together, the unlucky dragoman

A MISADVENTURE. 103
completely buried under the burden. I was the first at his
side ; and when I raised him up he was senseless. I un
tied his sash and tore open his clothes. The Bedouins
gathered around, all talking together, pulling, and hauling,
and one of them drew his sword, and was bending over my
prostrate interpreter, with its point but a few inches from
his throat. Poor Paul ! with his mortal antipathy to cold
steel, if he could have opened his eyes at that moment,' and
seen the fiery orbs of the Bedouins, and the point of a sharp
sword apparently just ready to be plunged into his body,
he would have uttered one groan and given up the ghost. It
was a startling movement to me ; and for a moment I thought
they were going to employ in his behalf that mercy which
is sometimes shown to a dying brute, that of killing him to
put him out of misery. I pressed forward to shield him
with my own body ; and in the confusion of the moment,
and my inability to understand what they meant, the selfish
feeling came over me of the entire and absolute helpless
ness of my own condition if Paul should die. But Paul
was too good a Catholic to die out of the pale of the church ;
he could never have rested quietly in his grave, unless he
had been laid there amid the wafting of incense and the
chanting of priests. " The safety of the patient often con
sists in the quarrels of the physicians," says Sancho Panza,
or some other equally great authority, and perhaps this
saved Paul ; the Arabs wanted to cut open his clothes and
bleed him ; but I, not liking the looks of their lancets, would
not suff"er it ; and, between us both, Paul was let alone and
came to himself. But it was a trying moment, while I was
kneeling on the sand supporting his senseless head upon
my knee. No parent could have waited with more anxiety
the return to life of an only child, or lover watched the
beautiful face of his adored and swooning mistress with
more earnestness than I did the ghastly and grizzled face
of my faithful follower ; and when he first opened his eyes,

104 INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL.
and stared wildly at me, the brightest emanations from the
face of beauty could not at that moment have kindled warm
er emotions in my heart. I never thought I should look
on his ugly face with so much pleasure. I put him on my
horse, and took his dromedary ; and in half an hour we
came to a Bedouin encampment in one of the most singu
lar and interesting spots I ever saw.
We should have gone on two hours longer, but Paul's ac
cident made it necessary to stop as soon as we found a
proper place ; and I should have regretted exceedingly to
pass by this without a halt. There was 'something interest
ing even in our manner of approaching it. We were climbing
up the side of a mountain, and saw on a little point on the
very summit the figure of an Arab, with his face towards
the tomb of the prophet, kneeling and prostrating himself in
evening prayer. He had finished his devotions, and was
sitting upon the rock when we approached, and found that
he had literally been praying on his house-top, for his
habitation was in the rock beneath. Like almost every old
man one meets in the East, he looked exactly the patri
arch of the imagination, and precisely as we would paint
Abraham, Isaac, or Jacob. He rose as we approached, and
gave us the usual Bedouin invitation to stop and pass the
night with him ; and, leading us a few paces to the brmk
of the mountain, he showed us in the valley below the vil
lage of his tribe.
The valley began at the foot of the elevation on which
we stood, and lay between ranges of broken and overhang
ing rocks, a smooth and beautiful table of green, for perhaps
a quarter of a mile, and beyond that distance broke off" and
expanded into an extensive meadow. The whole of this
valley, down to the meadow, was filled with flocks of sheep
and goats ; and, for the first time since I left the banks of
the Nile, I saw a herd of cows. I did not think I should
ever be guilty of a seutinjent at beholding a cow, but so it

PASTORAL BEDOUINS. 105
was ; after my long journey in the desert, my feelings were
actually excited to tenderness by the sight of these old ac
quaintances. But where were the dwellings of the pastors, the tents in
which dwelt the shepherds of these flocks and herds ? In
Egypt I had seen the Arabs living in tombs, and among the
ruins of temples ; in the desert I had seen them dwelling
in tents ; but I had never yet seen them making their habi
tations in the rude crevices of the rocks. Such, however,
were their habitations here. The rocks in many places were
overhanging ; in others there were chasms or fissures ; and
wherever there was anything that could aflibrd a partial
protection from the weather on one side, a low, rough,
circular wall of stone was built in front of it, and formed
the abode of a large family. Within the small enclosure
in front, the women were sitting winnowing or grinding
grain, or rather pounding and rubbing it between two stones,
in the same primitive manner practised of old, in the days
of the patriarchs. We descended and pitched our tents in
the middle of the valley ; and my first business was to make
some hot tea for Paul, roll him up in blankets and coverlets,
and thus repeat the sweating operation that had done him
so much good before. He was badly hurt, and very much
frightened. The boxes had fallen upon him, and the butt
of a heavy giin, which he held in his left hand, had struck
with all the momentum of its fall against his breast. He
thought his ribs were all broken ; and when I persuaded
him that they were as good as ever, he was sure there was
some inward bruise, that would be followed by mortifica
tion ; and, until we separated, especially when we had any
hard work before us, he continued to complain of his hurts
by this unlucky misadventure.
Having disposed of Paul, I strode out to examine more
particularly the strange and interesting scene in the midst
of which we were. The habitations in the crevices of the

106 INCIDENTS OP TRAVEL.
rocks, bad as they would be considered anywhere else, I
found much more comfortable than most of the huts of the
Egyptians on the banks of the Nile, or the rude tents of the
Bedouins. It was not sheer poverty that drove these shep
herds to take shelter in the rocks, for they were a tribe
more than three hundred strong, and had flocks and herds
such as are seldom seen among the Bedouins ; and they
were far better clad, and had the appearance of being better
fed than my worthy companions. Indeed, they were a dif
ferent race from mine ; and here, on the borders of the des
ert, I was again struck with what had so forcibly impressed
me in crossing the borders of Ethiopia, the strong and
marked diiference of races in the East. The Bedouins
among whom we were encamped were taller, stouter, and
had longer faces than the El Alouins ; and sometimes I
thought I saw in them strong marks of the Jewish physiog
nomy. Above all, they were whiter ; and this, with the
circumstance of the women being less particular in keeping
their faces covered, enabled me to pass an hour before dark
with much satisfaction. The change from the swarthy and
bearded visages of my travelling companions to the com
paratively fair and feminine countenances of these pastoral
women was striking and agreeable; and they looked more
like home than anything I had seen for a long time, except
the cows. I cannot help thinking what a delight it would
have been to meet, in that distant land, one of those beauti
ful fairies, lovely in all the bewitching attractions of frocks,
shoes, stockings, clean faces, &c., of whom I now meet
dozens every day, with the calm indifi'erence of a stoic,
since, even m spite of bare feet and dirty faces, my heart
warmed towards the women of the desert. I could have
taken them all to my arms ; but there was one among them
who might be accounted beautiful even among the beautiful
women of my own distant home. She was tall, and fairei-
than the most of her tribe ; and, with the shepherd's crook

PASTORAL SCENE IN THE MOUNTAINS. 107
in her hand, she was driving her flock of goats up the val
ley to the little enclosure before the door of her rocky dwell
ing. There was no colour in her cheek, but there was
gentleness in her eye and delicacy in every feature ; and,
moving among us, she would be cherished and cared for as
a tender plant, and served with all respect and love ; but
here she was a servant ; her days were spent in guarding
her flock, and at night her tender limbs were stretched upon
the rude floor of her rocky dwelling. I thought of her much,
and she made a deep impression upon me ; but I was pre
vented from attempting to excite a correspondent feeling in
her gentle bosom by the crushed state of Paul's ribs and
my own inability to speak her language.
In the evening the men and womeUj or, to speak more
pastorally; the shepherds and shepherdesses, came up one
after another, with their crooks in their hands and their
well-trained dogs, driving before them their several flocks.
Some entered the little enclosures before their rude habita
tions ; but many, destitute even of this miserable shelter,
slept outside in the open valley, with their flocks around
them, and their dogs by their side, presenting the same pas
toral scenes which I had so often looked upon among the
mountains of Greece ; but unhappily, here, as there, the
shepherds and shepherdesses do not in the least resemble
the Chloes and Phillises of poetic dreams. In the evening
we seated ourselves round a large bowl of cracked com
and milk, so thick as to be taken with the hands, unaided
by a spoon or ladle, followed by a smoking raarmite of
stewed kid ; and, after this exercise of hospitality to the
strangers, some withdrew to their rocky dwellings, others
laid themselves down around the fire, and I retired to my
tent. All night I heard from every part of the valley the
lowing of cattle, the bleating of lambs and goats, and the
loud barking of the watch-dog.
Early in the morning, while the stars were yet in the sky,

108 INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL.
I was up and out of my tent. The flocks were still quiet,
and the shepherds and shepherdesses were still sleeping
with the bare earth for their bed, and the canopy of heaven
their only covering. One after the other they awoke ; and,
as the day was breaking, they were milking the cows and
goats, and at broad daylight they were again moving, with
their crooks and dogs, to the pasture-ground at the foot of
the valley.
We set oflf at an early hour, Paul again on my horse and
I on his, dromedary ; the patriarchal figure who had wel
comed being the last to speed me on my way. At every
step we were now putting the desert behind us, and advan
cing into a better country. We had spent our last night in
the wilderness, and were now approaching the Holy Land ;
and no pilgrim ever approached its borders with a more joy
ous and thankful heart than mine.
At nine o'clock we came to another field of ruins, where
the relics of an Arab village were mingled with those of a
Roman city. The hands of the different builders and resi
dents were visible among them ; two square buildings of
large Roman stone were still standing like towers, while
all the rest had fallen to pieces, and the stones which once
formed the foundations of palaces were now worked up into
fences around holes in the rocks, the burrowing-places of
the miserable Arabs.
And here, too, we saw the tokens of man's inhumanity
to man ; the thunder of war had been levelled against the
wretched village, the habitations were in ruins, and the in
habitants whom the sword had spared were driven out and
scattered no one knew whither. On the borders of the
Holy Land we saw that Ibrahim Pacha, the great Egyptian
soldier, whose terrible war-cry had been heard on the plains
of Egypt and among the mountains of Greece, in the des
erts of Syria and under the walls of Constantinople, was
ruling the conquered country with the same rod of iron

ANCIENT RUINS. 109
which his father swayed in Egypt. He had lately been to
this frontier village with the brand of war, and burning and
desolation had marked his path.
Soon after we came to an inhabited village, the first since
we left Cairo. Like the ruined and deserted village we
had left, it was a mingled exhibition of ancient greatness
and modern poverty ; and probably it was a continuation of
the same ruined Roman city. A large fortress, forming
part of a battlement, in good preservation, and fragments of
a wall, formed the nucleus of a village, around which the
inhabitants had built themselves huts. The rude artisans
of the present day knew nothing of the works which their
predecessors had built ; and the only- care they had for
them was to pull them down, and with the fragments to
build for themselves rude hovels and enclosures ; and the
sculptured stones which once formed the ornaments of
Roman palaces were now worked up into fences around
holes in the ground, the poor dwellings of the miserable
Arabs. The stranger from a more favoured land, in looking at
the tenants of these wretched habitations, cannot help thank
ing his God that his lot is not like theirs. When I rode
through, the whole population had crawled out of their holes
and hiding-places, and were basking in the warmth of a
summer's sun ; and I could not help seeing the kindly hand
of a benefactor in giving to them what he has denied to us,
a climate where, for the greater part of the year, they may
spend their whole days in the open air, and even at night
hardly need the shelter of a roof. This is probably the
last of the cities which once stood on the great Roman road
from Jerusalem to Akaba. While riding among the ruins
and stopping for a moment to talk with some of the Arabs,
1 saw on the left, in the side of a mountain, an open door
like those of the tombs in Egypt ; a simple orifice, without
any ornament or sculpture. A woman was coming out
Vol. IL— K

110 INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL.
with a child in her arms, a palpable indication that here,
too, the abodes of the dead were used as habitations by the
living. In Paul's disabled state I could ask no questions,
and I did not stop to explore.
I cannot leave this interesting region without again ex
pressing my regret at being able to add so little to the stock
of useful knowledge. I can only testify to the existence of
the ruins of cities which have been known only in the
books of historians, and I can bear witness to the desola
tion that reigns in Edom. I can do more, not with the
spirit of scoffing at prophecy, but of one who, in the strong
evidence of the fulfilment of predictions uttered by the
voice of inspiration, has seen and felt the evidences of the
sure foundation of the Christian faith ; and having regard
to what I have already said in reference to the interpreta
tion of the prophecy, " None shall pass through it for ever
and ever," I can say that 1 have passed through the land of
Idumea. My route was not open to the objection made to
that of Burckhardt, the traveller who came nearest to pass
ing through the land ; for he entered from Damascus, on
the east side of the Dead Sea, and struck the borders of
Edom at such a point that literally he cannot be said to
have passed through it. If the reader will look at the map
accompanying these pages, he will see Burckhardt's route ;
and he will also see that mine is not open to the critical
objections made to his ; and that, beyond all peradventure,
I did pass directly through the land of Idumea lengthwise,
and crossing its northern and southern border ; and, unless
the two Englishmen and Italian before referred to passed
on this same route, I am the only person, except the wan
dering Arabs, who ever did pass through the doomed and
forbidden Edom, beholding with his own eyes the fearful
fulfilment of the terrible denunciations of an offiended Gtod.
And, though I did pass through and yet was not cut off", God
forbid that I should count the prophecy a lie : no ; even

TESTIMONY OF' AN EYEWITNESS. Ill
though I had been a confirmed skeptic, I had seen enough,
in wandering with the Bible in my hand in that unpeopled
desert, to tear up the very foundations of unbelief, and scatter
its fragments to the winds. In my judgment, the words of
the prophet are abundantly fulfilled in the destruction and
desolation of the ancient Edom, and the complete and eter
nal breaking up of a great public highway ; and it is nei
ther necessary nor useful to extend the denunciation against
a passing traveller.*
* Keith's celebrated treatise on the Prophecies has passed through four
teen editions, differing in some few particulars. In the sixth edition he
says that Sir Frederick Henniker, in his notes dated from Mount Sinai,
states that Seetzen, on a vessel of paper pasted against the wall, notifies
his having penetrated the country in a direct line between the Dead Sea
and Mount Sinai (through Idumea), a route never before accomplished. In a
note to the same edition, the learned divine says, "Not even the cases of
two individuals, Seetzen and Burckhardt, can be stated as at all opposed
to the literal interpretation of the prophecies. Seetzen did indeed pass
through Idumea, and Burckhardt traversed a considerable part of it ; but
the former met his death not long after the completion of his journey
through Idumea (he died at Akaba, supposed to have been poisoned); the
latter never recovered from the effects of the hardships and privations
which he suffered there ; and, without even commencing the exclusive de
sign which he had in view, viz., to explore the interior of Africa, to which
all his joumeyings in A sia were merely intended as preparatory, he died at
Cairo. Neither of them lived to return to Europe. ' I will cut off from
Mount Seir him that passeth out and him that returneth.^ " In the edition
which I saw on the Nile, and which first turned my attention to the route
through Idumea, I have no recollection of having seen any reference to
Seetzen. It may have been there, however, without my particularly noti
cing it ; as, when I read it, I had but little expectation of being able mysejf
to undertake the route.

113 INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL.

CHAPTER Vm.
Approach to Hebron.— A Sick Governor. — A Prescription at Random. —
Hospitality of the Jews. — Finale with the Bedouins. — A storm. — A Calm
after the Storm. — Venality of the Arabs. — Hebron. — A Coptic Christian.
— Story of the Rabbi. — Professional Employment
I HAD followed the wandering path of the children of
Israel from the land of Egypt and the house of bondage
to the borders of the Promised Land ; had tracked them in
their miraculous passage across the Red Sea to the mount
ains of Sinai, through " the great and terrible wilderness
that leadeth to Kadesh Barnea ;" and among the stony
mountains through which I was now journeying must have
been the Kadesh, in the wilderness of Paran, from which
Moses sent the ten chosen men to spy out the land of
Canaan, who went " unto the brook of Eshcol, and cut
down from thence a branch with one cluster of grapes, and
bare it between two upon a staff"; and though they brought
of the pomegranates and figs, and said that surely the land
flowed with milk and honey, and these were the fruits
thereof, yet brought up such an evil report of the land
that it ate up the inhabitants thereof; and of the sons of
Anak, the giants that dwelt therein, that the hearts of the
Israelites sank within them ; they murmured against Moses ;
and for their murmurings they were sent back into the wil
derness ; and their carcasses, from twenty years old and
upward, were doomed to fall in the wilderness, and the
children of the murmurers to wander forty years before they
should enter the Land of Promise."* I followed in the
* Numbers xiii., 23.

APPROACH TO HEBRON. 113
track of the spies ; and, though I saw not the Vale of
Eshcol with its grapes and pomegranates, neither did I
see the sons of Anak, the giants which dwelt in the land.
Indeed, the men of Anak could not have made me turn
back from the Land Qf Promise. I was so heartily tired of
the desert and my Bedouin companions, that I would have
thrown myself into the arms of the giants themselves for
relief. And though the mountains were as yet stony and
barren, they were so green and beautiful by comparison
with the desert I had left, that the conviction even of much
greater dangers than I had yet encountered could hardly
have driven me back. The Bedouins and the Fellahs about
Hebron are regarded as the worst, most turbulent, and des
perate Arabs under the government of the pacha ; but as I
met little parlies of them coming out towards the frontier,
they looked, if such a character can be conceived of Arabs,
like quiet, respectable, orderly citizens, when compared
with my wUd protectors ; and they greeted us kindly and
cordially as we passed them, and seemed to welcome us
once more to the abodes of men.
As we approached Hebron the sheik became more and
more civil and obsequious ; and, before we came in sight of
the city, he seemed to have some misgivings about enter
ing it, and asked me to secure protection from the governor
for that night for himself and men, which I did not hesitate
to promise. I was glad to be approaching again a place
under the established government of the pacha, where,
capricious and despotic as was the exercise of power, I
was sure of protection against the exactions of ray Bedouins ;
and the reader may judge of the diflferent degrees of security
fxisting in these regions, from being tdd that I looked to
the protection of a Turk as a guarantee against the rapacity
of an Arab. After clambering over a rocky mountain, we
came down into a valley, bounded on all sides, and appa
rently shut in by stony mountains. We followed the valley
Ka

114 INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL.
for more than an hour, finding the land good and well cul
tivated, with abundance of grapes, vines, and olives, as in
the day when the spies sent by Moses entered it ; and I
can only wonder that, to a hardy and warlike people like
the Israelites, after a long journey in the desert, the rich
products of Hebron did not present more powerful considera
tions than the enmity of the men of Anak. We turned a
point of the mountain to the left ; and at the extreme end
of the valley, on the side of a hill, bounding it, stands the
little city of Hebron, the ancient capital of the kingdom of
David. But it bears no traces of the glory of its Jewish
king. Thunder and lightning, and earthquakes, wars, pes
tilence, and famine, have passed over it ; and a small
town of white houses, compactly built on the side of the
mountain, a mosque and two minarets, are all that mark the
ancient city of Hebron.
As soon as we came in sight of the city the sheik dis
mounted ; and, arranging his saddle, made Paul take back
his dromedary and give me my horse ; and placing me on
his right hand, and drawing up the caravan with the order
and precision of a troop of " regulars," we made a dashing
entry. It was on Friday, the Mussulmans' Sabbath ; and
several hundred women, in long white dresses, were sit
ting among the tombs of the Turkish burying-ground,
outside the walls. We passed this burying-ground and a
large square fountain connected with the ancient city, being
regarded at this day as one of the works of Solomon ; and
leaving the baggage camels at the gate, with our horses
and dromedaries on full gallop, we dashed through the
narrow streets up to the door of the citadel, and in no very
modest tone demanded an audience of the governor. The
Turks and Arabs are proverbial for the indiflference with
which they look upon everything ; and though I knew that
a stranger coming from the desert was a rare object, and
ought to excite some attention, I was amused and some.

A SICK GOVERNOR. 115
what surprised at the extraordinary sensation our appear
ance created. Men stopped in the midst of their business ;
the lazy groups in the caf6s sprang up, and workmen threw
down their tools to run out and stare at us. I was surprised
at this ; but I afterward learned that, since the pacha had
disarmed all Syria, and his subjects in that part of his
dominions wore arms onlyby stealth, it was a strange and
startling occurrence to see a party of lawless Bedouins
coming in from the desert, armed to the teeth, and riding
boldly up to the gates of the citadel.
The janizary at the door told us that the governor was
sick and asleep, and could not be disturbed. He was, how
ever, a blundering fellow ; and, after a few moments' parley,
without giving his master any notice, he had us all standing
over the sleeping invalid. The noise of our entering and
the clang of our weapons roused him ; and, staring round
for a moment, leaning on his elbow, he fixed his eyes on the
sheik, and with a voice the like of which can only issue
from the bottom of a Turk's throat, thundered out, " Who
are you 1" The sheik was for a moment confounded, and
made no answer. "Who are you ]" reiterated the governor,
in a voice even louder than before. " I am Ibrahim Pacha's
man," said the sheik. " I know that," answered the gov
ernor ; "none but Ibrahim Pacha's men dare come here ;
but have you no name 1" " Sheik El Alouin," said the
Arab, with the pride of a chief of Bedouins, and looking for
a moment as if he stood in the desert at the head of his
lawless tribe. " I condticted the pacha's caravan to Aka
ba;'' and pointing to me, "I have conducted safe through
all the bad Arabs Abdel Hasis, the friend of the pacha ;"
and then the governor, like a wild animal balked in his
spring, turned his eyes from the sheik to me, as for the first
time sensible of my presence. I showed him my firman,
and told him that I did not mean to give him much trouble ;

116 INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL.
that all I wanted was that he would send me on immediately
to Bethlehem.
I had no wish to stop at Hebron, though the first city in
the Holy Land, and hallowed by high and holy associations.
The glory of the house of David had for ever departed. I
was anxious to put an outpost between myself and the des
ert ; and I had an indefinable longing to sleep my first night
in the Holy Land in the city where our Saviour was born.
But the governor positively refused to let me go that after
noon ; he said that it was a bad road, and that a Jew had
been robbed a few days before on his way to Bethlehem ;
and again lying down, he silenced -all objections with the
eternal but hateful word, " Bokhara, bokhara," " to-morrow,
to-morrow." Seeing there was no help for me, I made the
best of it, and asked him to furnish me with a place to lodge
in that night. He immediately gave orders to the janizary ;
and, as I was rising to leave, asked me if I could not give
him some medicine. I had some expectation and some
fear of this, and would have avoided it if I could. I had
often drugged and physicked a common Arab, but had never
been called upon to prescribe for such pure porcelain of the
earth as a governor. Nevertheless, I ventured my unskil
ful hand upon him ; and having with all due gravity asked
his symptoms, and felt his pulse, and made him stick out
his tongue till he could hardly get it back again, I looked
down his throat, and into his eyes, and covering him up,
told him, with as much solemnity as if I was licensed to kill
secundem artem, that I would send him some medicine, with
the necessary directions for taking it. I was quite equal to
the governor's case, for I saw that he had merely half killed
himself with eating, and wanted clearing out, and I had with
me emetics and cathartics that I well knew were capable
of clearing out a whole regiment. In the course of the
evening he sent his janizary to me ; and, expecting to be off
before daylight, I gave him a double emetic, with very pre-

HOSPITALITY OF THE JEWS. 117
cise directions for its use ; and I afterward learned that
during its operation, his wrath had waxed warm against me,
but in the morning he was so much better that he was
ready to do me any kindness.
This over, I followed the janizary, who conducted me
around outside the walls and through the burying-ground,
where the women were scattered in groups among the
tombs, to a distant and separate quarter of the city. I
had no idea where he was taking me ; but I had not ad
vanced a horse's length in the narrow streets before their
peculiar costume and physiognomies told me that I was
among the unhappy remnant of a fallen people, the perse
cuted and despised Israelites. They were removed from
the Turkish quarter, as if the slightest contact with this
once-favoured people would contaminate the bigoted fol
lower of the Prophet. The governor, in the haughty spirit
of a Turk, probably thought that the house of a Jew was a
fit place for the repose of a Christian ; and, following the
janizary through a low range of narrow, dark, and filthy
lanes, mountings and turnings, of which it is impossible to
give any idea, with the whole Jewish population turning out
to review us, and the sheik and all his attendants with their
long swords clattering at my heels, I was conducted to the
house of the chief Rabbi of Hebron.
If I had had my choice, these were the very persons I
would have selected for my first acquaintances in the Holy
Land. The descendants of Israel were fit persons to wel
come a stranger to. the ancient city of their fathers ; and if
they had been then sitting under the shadow of the throne
of David, they could not have given me a warmer reception.
It may be that, standing in the same relation to the Turks,
alike the victims of persecution and contempt, they forgot
the great cause which had torn us apart and made us a sep
arate people, and felt only a sympathy for the object of mu
tual oppression. But, whatever was the cause, I shall never

118 INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL.
forget the kindness with which, as a stranger and Christian,
I was received by the Jews in the capital of their ancient
kingdom ; and I look to my reception here and by the
monks of Mount Sinai as among the few bright spots in
my long and dreary pilgrimage through the desert.
I had seen enough of the desert, and of the wild spirit of
freedom which men talk of without knowing, to make me
cling more fondly than ever even to the lowest grade of civ
ilization ; and I could have sat down that night, provided it
was under a roof, with the fiercest Mussulman, as in a family
circle. Judge, then, of my satisfaction at being welcomed
from the desert by the friendly and hospitable Israelites.
Returned once more to the occupation of our busy, money-
making life, fioating again upon the stream of business, and
carried away by the cares and anxieties which agitate
every portion of our stirring community, it is refreshing to
turn to the few brief moments when far other thoughts oc
cupied my mind ; and my speculating, scheming friends
and fellow-citizens would have smiled to see me that night,
with a Syrian dress and long beard, sitting cross-legged on
a divan, with the chief rabbi of the Jews at Hebron, and
half the synagogue around us, talking of Abraham, Isaac,
and Jacob as of old and mutual friends.
With the few moments of daylight that remained, my
Jewish friends conducted me around their miserable quar
ter. They had few lions to show me, but they took me to
their synagogue, in which an old white-bearded Israelite
was teaching some prattling children to read the laws of
Moses in the language of their fathers ; and when the sun
was setting in the west, and the Muezzin from the top of
the minaret was calling the sons of the faithful to evening
prayers, the old rabbi and myself, a Jew and a Christian,
were sitting on the roof of the little synagogue, looking out
as by stealth upon the sacred mosque containing the hal
lowed ashes of their patjriarph fathers. The Turk guards

FINALS WITH THE BEDOUINS. 119
the door, and the Jew and the Christian are not permitted
to enter ; and the old rabbi was pointing to the diff"erent
parts of the mosque, where, as he told me, under tombs
adorned with carpets of silk and gold, rested the mortal re
mains of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.
But to return to my Bedouin companions. The sheik
and his whole suite had been following close at my heels,
through the narrow lanes and streets, up to the very doors
of the synagogue ; and their swarthy figures, their clatter
ing swords, and grim visages prevented my seeing the face
of many a Hebrew maiden. I expected a scene with them
at parting, and I was not disappointed. Returning to the
rabbi's, they followed me into the room, and, after a few
preliminaries, I counted out the price of the camels, and laid
down a bucksheesh for each separately. Not one of them
touched it, but all looked at the money and at me alternately,
without speaking a word (it was about ten times as much
as I would have had to pay for the same services anywhere
else) ; and the sheik seemed uncertain what to do. The
janizary, however, whose presence I had almost forgotten,
put himself forward as an actor in the scene ; and, half
drawing his sword, and rattling it back into its scabbard,
swore that it was a vile extortion ; that the governor ought
to know it ; and that the firman of the pacha ought to pro
tect a stranger. This brought the sheik to a decision ; and
taking up his own portion, and directing the rest to do the
same, he expressed himself satisfied, and, without moving
from his place, betook himself to smoking. It was evident,
however, that he was not altogether content ; and the jani
zary leaving us soon after, hardly had the rattling of his
steel scabbard died away along the narrow passage, when
they all turned upon me and gave voice to their dissatis
faction. I told them that I had paid them an enormous
price, much more than the sheik had spoken of at Cairo ;
that I had brought with me more money than he had given

120 INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL.
me to iinderstand would be necessary, and that it was all
gone ; that it was impossible to give them any more, for 1
had it not to give. In fact, I had paid them extravagantly,
but far below their extravagant expectations. One would
not have come for two hundred dollars, another for one hun
dred, &c. ; and from the noise and clamour which they made
here, I am well satisfied that, if the denouement had taken
place in the desert, they would have searched for themselves
whether there was not something left in the bottom of my
trunk ; and, from what happened afterward, I am very «ure
that they would have stripped me of my Turkish plumage ;
but now I was perfectly safe. I considered a Turkish gov
ernor good protection against the rapacity of a Bedouin
Arab. I did not even fear their future vengeance, for I
knew that they did not dare set their feet outside of any
gate in Hebron, except that which opened to their own tents
in the desert ; they seemed to think that they had let me
slip through their fingers ; and when they pushed me to
desperation, I told them that I did not care whether they
were satisfied or not. As I rose the sheik fell ; and when
I began working myself into a passion at his exorbitant de
mand, he fell to begging a dollar or two in such moving
terms that I could not resist. I continued yielding to his
petty extortions, until, having ascertained the expense, I
found that I had not a dollar more than enough to carry me
to Jerusalem ; and at this moment he consummated his im-"
pudence by begging my dress from off" my back. The
dress was of no great value ; it had not cost much when
new, and was travel-worn and frayed with hard usage ; but
it had a value in my eyes from the mere circumstance of
having been worn upon this journey. I had given hira
nearly all my tent equipage, arms, ammunition, &c., and I
had borne with all his twopenny extortions ; but he urged
and insisted, and begged and entreated with so much per
tinacity, that my patience was exhausted, and I told him

A STORM. 121
that I had borne with him long enough, and that he and his
whole tribe might go to the d — 1. This was not very cour
teous or dignified between treaty-making powers ; but, con
sidering that the immediate subject of negotiation was an
old silk dress, and the parties were a single individual and
a horde of Bedouins, it may perhaps be allowed to pass.
All the nice web of diplomacy was now broken ; and all
springing at the same moment to our feet, the whole group
stood fronting me, glaring upon me like so many wild beasts.
Now the long-smothered passion broke out, and, wild and
clamorous as the Arabs always were, I had never seen
them so perfectly furious. They raved like so many bed
lamites ; and the sheik, with torrents of vociferation and re
proach, drew from his bosom the money he had accepted
as his portion, dashed it on the floor, and swearing that no
Frank should ever pass through his country again, poured
out upon me a volley of bitter curses, and, grinding his teeth
with rage and disappointment, rushed out of the room. I
did not then know what he was saying ; but I could judge,
from the almost diabolical expression of his face, that he
was not paying me very handsome compliments ; and I felt
a convulsive movement about the extreme end of my foot,
and had advanced a step to help him down stairs, but his
troop followed him close ; and I do not know how it is, but
when one looks long at the ugly figure of a Bedouin, he is
apt to forego a purpose of vengeance. There is something
particularly truculent and pacifying in their aspect.
A moment after he had gone I was exceedingly sorry for
what had happened, particularly on account of his oath, that
no European should ever pass through his country. I felt
unhappy in the idea that, when I expected to be the pioneer
in opening a new and interesting route, I had become the
means of more effectually closing it. With a heavy heart
I told Paul that I must have another interview ; that the old
dress must go, and anything else I had ; and, in short, that
Vol. II.— L

123 INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL.
I must have peace upon any terms. To dispose of this busi
ness without mixing it with other things ; in about an hour
the sheik returned with his brother, and, walking up to me
and kissing my hand, told me that he had just heard of a
robbery on the road to Jerusalem, and came to tell'me of it ;
and, looking me in the face, added that, when he had got
back to his tent, he felt unhappy at having left me in anger;
that he had been so used to sitting with me, that he could not
remain away, &c., &c. I was not to be outdone ; and,
looking him back again in the face, 1 introduced him to my
Jewish companions as my dearest friend, the chief of the
tribe of El Alouins, who had protected me with his life
through the dangers of the desert, and to whose bold arm
they were indebted for the privilege they then enjoyed of
seeing my face. The sheik looked at me as if he thought me
in earnest, and himself entitled to all that I had said ; and,
satisfied so far, he sat down and smoked his pipe, and at
parting disclosed the object of his visit, by asking me for a
letter of recommendation to the consul at Cairo, and to the
friends of whom I had before spoken as intending to follow
me to Petra. Glad to patch up a peace, I told him to come
to me early the next morning, and I would settle everything
to his satisfaction. Before I was awake he was shaking
me by the shoulder. I jumped up, and roused Paul ; and
now wishing to redeem my ungraciousness of the day be
fore, I may say literally that " I parted my raiment among
them," and gave away pretty much everything I had except
my European clothes, completing my present with a double-
barrelled gun, rather given to bursting, which I gave the
sheik's brother. The sheik had changed his tone altogether,
and now told me that he loved me as a brother ; and, point
ing to the brother at his side, that he loved me as well as
him ; and with great warmth assured me, that if I would turn
Mussulman, and come and live with him in his tents in the
wilderness, he wOuld give me for wives four of the most

PARTING WITH THE BEDOUINS. 123
beautiful girls of his tribe. He did not confine his off'ers to
me, but told me that he would receive, guard, and protect
any of my friends as if they were of his own blood ; and
warming with his own generosity, or perhaps really feeling
a certain degree of kindness, he asked me for some symbol
or sign which should be perpetual between us. I had just
sealed a letter for Mr. Gliddon, and a stick of sealing-wax
and a lighted lamp were on the low table before me. I
made a huge plaster with the sealing-wax on a sheet of
coarse brown paper, and, stamping it with the stock of my
pistol, chased and carved in the Turkish fashion, I gave him
a seal with such a device as would have puzzled the pro
fessors of heraldry, telling him that, when any one came to
him with this seal, he might know he was a friend of mine ;
and I added, that I would never send any one without plenty
of money ; so that any one who visits the Sheik El Alouin
with my recommendation must expect to make up for my defi
ciencies. This over, we bade each other farewell, the sheik
and the whole of his swarthy companions kissing me on both
sides of my face. I looked after them as long as they contin
ued in sight, listened till I heard the last clattering of their
armour, and I never saw nor do I ever wish to see them
again. I am sorry to entertain such a feeling towards any
who have been the companions of my wanderings, and I
hardly know another instance, from the English nobleman
down to a muleteer or boatman, at parting with whom I
have not felt a certain degree of regret. But when I parted
with the Bedouin chief, though he kissed me on both cheeks,
though he gave me his signet and has mine in return, and
though four Arabian girls are ready for me whenever I
choose to put my trust in Mohammed and Sheik El Alouin,
it was delightful to think that I should never see his face
again. One by one I had seen the many illusions of my wa
king dreams fade away; the gorgeous pictures of Oriental

124 INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL.
scenes melt into nothing ; but I had still clung to the prim
itive simplicity and purity of the children of the desert,
their temperance and abstinence, their contented poverty
and contempt for luxuries, as approaching the true nobility
of man's nature, and sustaining the poetry of the " land of
the East." But ray last dream w^s broken ; and I never
saw among the wanderers of the desert any traits of charac
ter or any habits of life which did not make me prize and
value more the privileges of civilization. I had been more
than a month alone with the Bedouins ; and, to say nothing
of their manners, excluding women from all companionship;
dipping their fingers up to the knuckles in the same dish;
eating sheep's insides, and sleeping under tents crawling
with vermin engendered by their filthy habits, their temper
ance and frugality are from necessity, not from choice ; for
in their nature they are gluttonous, and will eat at any time
till they are gorged of whatever they can get, and then
lie down and sleep like brutes. I have sometimes amused
myself with trying the variety of their appetites, and, I nev
er knew them refuse anything that could be eaten. Their
stomach was literally their god, and the only chance of do
ing anything with them was by first making to it a grateful
offering ; instead of scorning luxuries, they would eat sugar
as boys do sugarcandy ; and I am very sure, if they could
have got poundcake, they would never have eaten their
own coarse bread.
One might expect to find these children of Nature free
from the reproach of civilized life, the love of gold. But,
fellow-citizens and fellow-worshippers of mammon," hold
up your heads ; this reproach must not be confined to you.
It Tvonld have been a pleasing thing to me to find among
the Arabs of the desert a slight similarity of taste and pur
suits with the denizens of my native city ; and in the early
developments of a thirst for acquisition, I would have hailed
the embryo spirit which might one day lead to stock and

HEBRON. 125
exchange boards, and laying out city lots around the base
of Mount Sinai or the excavated city of Petra. But the
savage was already far beyond the civilized man in his ap
petite for gold ; and though brought up in a school of hun
gry and thirsty disciples, and knowing many in my native
city who regard it as the one thing needful, I blush for my
self, for my city, and for them, when I say that I never saw
one among them who could be compared with the Bedouin
I never saw anything like the expression of face with
which a Bedouin looks upon silver or gold. When he asks
for bucksheesh and receives the glittering metal, his eyes
sparkle with wild delight, his fingers clutch it with eager
rapacity, and he skulks away like the miser, to count it
over alone and hide it from all other eyes.
Hebron, one of the oldest cities of Canaan, is now a
small Arab town, containing seven or eight hundred Arab
families. The present inhabitants are the wildest, most
lawless, and desperate people in the Holy Lai^d ; and it
is a singular fact, that they sustain now the same mutin
ous character with the rebels of ancient days, who armed
with David against Saul, and with Absalom against David ;
in the late desperate revolution against Mohammed Aly,
they were foremost in the strife, the first to draw the sword,
and the last to return it to its scabbard. A petty Turk now
wields the sceptre of the son of Jesse, and a small remnant
of a despised and persecuted people still hover round the
graves of their fathers ; and though degraded and trampled
under foot, from the very dust in which they lie are still
looking to the restoration of their temporal kingdom.
Accompanied by my Jewish friends, I visited the few
spots which tradition marks as connected with scenes of
Bible History. Passing through the bazars at the extreme
end, and descending a few steps, we entered a vault con
taining a large monument, intended in memory of Abner,
the greatest captain of his age, the favoured and for a long
La

126 INCIDENTS OP TRAVEL.
time trusted officer of David, who, as the Jews told me,
was killed in battle near Hebron, and his body brought here
and buried. The great mosque, the walls of which, the
Jews say, are built with the ruins of the temple of Solomon,
according to the belief of the Mussulmans and the better
authority of the Jews, covers the site of the Cave of Mach-
pelah, which Abraham bought from Ephron the Hittite ;
and within its sacred precincts are the supposed tombs of
Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. The doors were guarded with
jealous care by the bigoted Mussulmans ; and when, with
my Jewish companion, I stopped for a moment to look up
?it the long marble staircase leading to the tomb of Abra
ham, a Turk came out from the bazars, and, with furious
gesticulations, gathered a crowd around us ; and a Jew
and a Christian were driven with contempt from the sepul
chre of the patriarch whom they both revered. A special
firman from the pacha, or perhaps a large bribe to the gov
ernor, might have procured me a private admission ; but
death or the Koran would have been the penalty required
by the bigoted people of Hebron.
On a rising ground a little beyond the mosque is a large
fountain or reservoir, supported by marble pillars, where
my companions told me that Sarah had washed the clothes
of Abraham and Isaac. Leaving this, I went once more to
the two pools outside the walls, and after examining them
as the so called works of Solomon, I had seen all a stran
ger could see in Hebron.
I cannot leave this place, however, without a word or
two more. I had spent a long evening with my Jewish
friends. The old rabbi talked to me of their prospects and
condition, and told me how he had left his country in Eu
rope many years before, and come with his wife and chil
dren to lay their bones in the Holy Land. He was now
eighty years old ; and for thirty years, he said, he had lived
with the sword suspended over his head ; had been reviled.

A COPTIC CHRISTIAN. 127
buffeted, and spit upon ; and, though sometimes enjoying a
respite from persecution, he never knew at what moment
the bloodhounds might not be let loose upon him ; that, since
the country had been wrested from the sultan by the Pacha
of Egypt, they had been comparatively safe and tranquil ;
though some idea may be formed of this comparative secu
rity from the fact that, during the revolution two years be
fore, when Ibrahim Pacha, after having been pent up sev
eral months in Jerusalem, burst out like a roaring lion, the
first place upon which his wrath descended was the unhap
py Hebron ; and while their guilty brethren were sometimes
spared, the unhappy Jews, never off'ending but always suf
fering, received the full weight of Arab vengeance. Their
houses were ransacked and plundered ; their gold and sil
ver, and all things valuable, carried away ; and their wives
and daughters violated before their eyes by a brutal soldiery.
During the evening a fine portly man, in the flowing Sy
rian dress, came to pay me a visit. His complexion pro
claimed him of Coptic origin, a descendant of the ancient
lords of Egypt ; his inkhorn in his sash told me that he was
a writer, and his cordial salutation that he was a Christian.
Living among Turks, Arabs, and Jews, he greeted me as
if it were a rare thing to meet a professor of the same faith,
and a believer in the same God and Saviour. He regretted
that he had been away when I arrived, and said that he
ought by right to have had me at his house, as he was the
only Christian in Hebron ; and he, even where proselytes
were wanted, would perhaps not have passed muster ac
cording to the strict canons of a Catholic church. My
Christian friend, however, was more of a Jew than any of
the descendants of Israel around me ; for, amid professions
of friendship and off'ers of service, he was not forgetting his
own interests. The European and American governments
had been appointing consular agents in many of the cities
of Syria, and this office, under the government of the pres*

128 INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL.
ent pacha, exempted the holder from certain taxes and im
positions, to which the fellahs and rayahs were subject.
America is known in the Holy Land by her missionaries,
by the great ship (the Delaware) which, a year before,
touched at the seaport towns, and by the respect and char
acter which she confers- on her consular agents. My Cop
tic Christian knew her on the last account, and told me, in
confidence, that he thought America had need of a consu
lar agent in Hebron, to protect her citizens travelling in
that region. I was the first American traveller who had ever
been there, and years may roll by before another follows
me ; but I fully concurred with him in the necessity of such
an officer ; and when he suggested that there was no better
man than himself to hold it, 1 concurred with him again.
Little did I think when, years before, I was seeking to
climb the slippery rungs of the political ladder, that my po
litical influence would ever be sought for the office of con
sul in the ancient capital of David ; but so it was ; and,
without questioning him too closely about his faith in the
principles and usages of the democratic party, the virtue
of regular nominations, &c., taking his name written in
Arabic, and giving him my card that he might know the
nanie of his political benefactor, I promised to speak to
the consul at Beyroot in his favour ; and he left me with as
much confidence as if he had his commission already in his
pocket. A more interesting business followed with the old rabhi,
probably induced by what had just passed between the
Christian and myself. He told me that he had lately had
occasion to regret exceedingly the loss of a paper, which
would now be of great use to him ; that he was a Jew ot
Venice (I can vouch for it that he was no Shylock), and
thirty years before had left his native city and come to
Hebron with a regular passport ; that for many years a
European passport was no protection, and, indeed, it had

VENERABLE WITNESSES. 129
been rather an object with him to lay aside the European
character, and identify himself with the Asiatics ; that, in
consequence, he had been careless of his passport, and had
lost it ; but that now, since the conquest of Mohammed Aly
and the government of Ibrahim Pacha, a European pass
port was respected, and saved its holder and his family
from Turkish impositions. He mourned bitterly over his
loss, not, as he said, for himself, for his days were almost
ended, and the storms of life could not break over his head
more heavily than they had already done ; but he mourned
for his children and grandchildren, whom his carelessness
had deprived of the evidence of their birthright and the
protection of their country. I was interested in the old
man's story, and particularly in his unobtrusive manner of
telling it ; and drawing upon the reminiscences of my legal
knowledge, I told him that the loss of his passport had not
deprived him of his right to the protection of his country,
and that, if he could establish the fact of his being a native
of Venice, he might still sit down under the wings of the
double-headed eagle of Austria. I afterward went more
into detail. Learning that there were in Hebron some of
his very old acquaintances, who could testify to the fact of
his nativity, I told him to bring them to me, and I would
take their affidavits, and, on my. arrival at Beyroot, would
represent the matter to the Austrian consul there ; and I
thought that with such evidence the consul would not refuse
him another passport. He thanked me very warmly, and
the next morning early, while I was waiting, all ready for
my departure, he brought in his witnesses. It would have
been difficult for the old man to produce deponents who
could swear positively to his nativity ; but of those whom
he brought any one could look back farther than it is
usually allowed to man. They were all over sixty, and
their long white beards gave them a venerable appearance,
which made me attach more importance to the proceedings

130 INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL.
than I intended. These hoary-headed men, I thought,
could not speak with lying lips ; and, taking my place in
the middle of the floor, the witnesses seated themselves be
fore me, and I prepared, with business-like formality, to
examine them and reduce their examination to writing.
Since I left home I had rarely thought of anything connect
ed with my professional pursuits, and I could but smile as
I found myself seated in the middle of a floor, surrounded
by a crowd of Israelites in the old city of Hebron, for the
first time in more than eighteen months resuming the path
of my daily walks at home. I placed the scribe before me,
and with a little of the keenness of the hunter returning to
a track for some time lost, I examined the witnesses sever
ally, and dictated in good set form the several requisite af
fidavits ; and then reading them over distinctly, like a com
missioner authorized to take acknowledgments under the
act, &c., I swore the white-bearded old men upon the table
of their law, a Hebrew copy of the Old Testament. I then
dictated an affidavit for the rabbi himself, and was about
administering the oath as before, when the old man rose,
and taking the paper in his hand, and telling me to follow
him, led the way through a range of narrow lanes and
streets, and a crowd of people, to the little synagogue,
where, opening the holy of holies, and laying his hand upon
the sacred scroll, he read over the affidavit and solemnly
swore to its truth. It did not need this additional act of
solemnity to convince me of his truth ; and when he gave
me back the paper, and I saw the earnestness and deep in
terest depicted in the faces of the crowd that had followed
us, I again resolved that I would use my best exertions to
gladden once more the old man's heart before he died. I
added to the several affidavits a brief statement of the cir*
cumstances under which they had been taken, and, putting
the paper in my pocket, returned to the house of the rabbi ;
and I may as well mention here, that at Beyroot I called

JEWISH HOSPITALITY. 131
upon the Austrian consul, and before I left had the satisfac
tion of receiving from him the assurance that the passport
should be made out forthwith, and delivered to the agent
whom the old rabbi had named to me.
I had nothing now to detain me in Hebron ; my mules
and a kervash provided by the governor were waiting for
me, and I bade farewell to my Jewish friends. I could
not offier to pay the old rabbi with money for his hospital
ity, and would have satisfied my conscience by a compli
ment to the servants ; but the son of the good old man, him
self more than sixty, told Paul that they would all feel hurt
if I urged it. I did not urge it ; and the thought passed
rapidly through my mind, that while yesterday the chil
dren of the desert would have stripped me of my last far
thing, to-day a Jew would not take from me a para. I passed
through the dark and narrow lanes of the Jewish Quarter,
the inhabitants being all arranged before their houses ; and
all along, even from the lips of maidens, a farewell saluta
tion fell upon my ears. They did not know what I had
done or what 1 proposed to do ; but they knew that I in
tended a kindness to a father of their tribe, and they thanked
me as if that kindness were already done. With the last
of their kind greetings still lingering on my ears, I emerged
from the Jewish Quarter, and it was with a warm feeling
of thankfulness I felt, that if yesterday I had an Arab's curse,
to-day I had a Jewish blessing.

132 INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL.

CHAPTER i:^.
An Arnaout. — The Pools of Solomon.— Bethlehem.~The Empress Hel
ena. — A Clerical Exquisite. — Miraculous Localities. — A Boon Compan
ion.— The Soldier's Sleep.— The Birthplace of Christ.— Worship in the
Grotto. — Moslem Fidelity.
I HAD given away all my superfiuous baggage, and com
menced my journey in the Holy Land with three mules,
one for myself, another for Paul, and the third for my bag
gage. The muleteer, who was an uncommonly thriving-
looking, well-dressed man, rode upon a donkey, and had an
assistant, who accompanied on foot ; but by far the most
important person of our party was our kervash. He was a
wild Arnaout, of a race that had for centuries furnished the
bravest, fiercest, and most terrible soldiers in the army of
the sultan ; and he -himself was one of the wildest of that
wild tribe. He was now about forty, and had been a war
rior from his youth upward, and battles and bloodshed were
familiar to him as his food ; he had fought under Ibrahim
Pacha in his bloody campaign in Greece, and his rebellious
war against the sultan ; and having been wounded in the
great battle in which the Egyptian soldiers defeated the
grand vizier with the flower of the sultan's army, he had
been removed from the regular service, and placed in an
honourable position near the governor of Hebron. He was
above the middle height, armed like the bristling porcupine,
with pistols, a Damascus sabre, and a Turkish gun slung
over his back, all which he carried as lightly and easily as a
sportsman does his fowling-piece. His face was red, a burnt
or baked red ; his mustaches seemed to curl spontaneously,
as if in contempt of dangers ; and he rode his high-met-

AN ARNAOUT. 133
tied horse as if he were himself a part of the noble animal.
Altogether, he was the boldest, most dashing, and martial-
looking figure 1 ever saw ; and had a frankness and openness
in his countenance which, after the dark and sinister looks of
my Bedouins, made me take to him the moment I saw him.
I do not think I made as favourable an impression upon him
at first ; for almost the first words he spoke to Paul after
starting were to express his astonishment at my not drink
ing wine. The janizary must have told him this as he sat
by me at supper, though I did not think he was watching
me so closely. I soon succeeded, however, in establishing
myself on a good footing with my kervash, and learned that
his reading of the Koran did not forbid the winecup to the
followers of the Prophet. He admitted that the sultan, as
being of the blood of the Prophet, and the vicegerent of
God upon eartbj ought not to taste it ; but as to the Pacha
of Egypt, he drank good wine whenever he could get it,
and this gave his subjects a right to drink as often as they
pleased. We were interrupted by an Arab, who told us that a party
of soldiers had just caught two robbers. The kervash
pricked up his ears at this, and, telling us that he would
meet us at a place some distance farther on, he drove his
heavy stirrups into his horse's sides, and, dashing up the
hill at full gallop, was out of sight in an instant. I did not
think it exactly the thing to leave us the first moment we
heard of robbers ; but I saw that his fiery impatience to be
present at a scene could not be controlled ; and I felt well
assured that, if danger should arrive, we would soon find
him at our side. Soon after we found him waiting with
the party he had sought ; the two robbers chained together,
and, probably, long before this, they have expiated their
crime with their lives. He told us that from Hebron to
Jerusalem was the most unsafe road in the Holy Land ; and
that Ibrahim Pacha, who hated the Arabs in that vicinity,
Vol. li.— M

134 INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL.
was determined to clear it of rebels and robbers if he cut
off every man in the country.
About half an hour from Hebron we came to a valley,
supposed to be the Vale of Eshcol, where the spies sent
out by Moses found the grapes so heavy, that to carry one
bunch it was necessary to suspend it on a pole. On the
right we passed a ruined wall, by some called the Cave of
Machpelah, or sepulchre of the patriarchs, but which the
Jews at Hebron had called the House of Abraham.
We were on our way to Bethlehem. I had hired my
mules for Jerusalem, expecting merely to stop at Bethlehem
and push on to Jerusalem that night. The road between
these oldest of cities was simply a mule-path over rocky
mountains, descending occasionally into rich valleys. We
had already, on this our first journey in tl^e Holy Land,
found that the character given of it in the Bible is true at
this day ; and that the Land of Promise is not like the land
of Egypt, watered by the dews of heaven, but by copious
and abundant rains. Indeed, the rain was falling in "tor
rents ; our clothes were already dripping wet, but we did
not mind it, for we were too full of thankfulness that con
tinued sunshine and clear and unclouded skies had been
our portion, when we most needed them, in the desert.
The heavy fall of rain made the track slippery and pre
carious ; and it was four hours before we reached the cele
brated reservoirs, known to modern travellers under the
name of the Pools of Solomon. These large, strong, noble
structures, in a land where every work of art has been hur
ried to destruction, remain now almost as perfect as when
they were built. There are three of them, about four hun
dred and eighty, six hundred, and six hundred and sixty
feet in length, and two hundredand eighty in breadth, and
of diff'erent altitudes, the water from the first running into
the second, and from the second into the third. At about a
hundred yards' distance is the spring which supplies the res-

THE POOLS OF SOLOMON. 135
ervoirs, as the monks say, the sealed fountain referred to
in Canticles iv., 12. The water from these reservoirs is
conveyed to Jerusalem by a small aqueduct, a round earth
en pipe about ten inches in diameter, which follows all the
sinuosities of the ground, being sometimes above the surface
and sometimes under. It is easily broken ; and while I
was in Jerusalem an accident happened which entirely cut
off" the water from their pools.
There is every reason to believe that these pools have
existed from the date assigned to them ; and that this was
the site of one of King Solomon's houses of pleasure, where
he made himself " gardens, and orchards, and pools of
water." The rain here ceased for a few moments, and en
abled me to view them at my leisure ; and as I walked
along the bank, or stood on the margin, or descended the
steps to the water's edge, it seemed almost the wild sugges
tion of a dream, to imagine that the wisest of men had
looked into the same pool, had strolled along the same
bank, and stood on the very same steps. It was like anni
hilating all the intervals of time and space. Solomon and
all his glory are departed, and little could even his wisdom
have foreseen that, long after he should be laid in the dust,
and his kingdom had passed into the hands of strangers, a
traveller from a land he never dreamed of would be looking
upon his works, and murmuring to himself the words of the
preacher, " Vanity of vanities, all is vanity."
A little to the right of the pools, towards the region of
the Dead Sea, is a very large grotto, supported by great
pillars of the natural rock, perfectly dry, without petrifac
tion or stalactites ; it is a perfect labyrinth within ; and, as
in many of the ancient catacombs, a man might easily lose
himself for ever in its windings. It lies in the mountainous
wilderness of Engaddi, and is supposed to b§ the Cave of
AduUam, where David received the mutinous and discon
tented spirits of his days, and where, when Saul was in

136 INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL.
pursuit of him, he cut off" the skirts of his garment, and
suffered him to go away unharmed.
In an hour more we came in sight of Bethlehem, seated
on an elevation, a confused and irregular pile of white
buildings. The star of the east no longer hovers over it to
mark the spot where the Saviour was born ; and the mosque
and the minaret proclaim the birthplace of Christ under the
dominion of a people who reject and despise him.
Heaps of ruins and houses blackened with smoke show
that the hand of war has been there. Ibrahim Pacha, on
his sortie from Jerusalem, and on his way to Hebron, had
lingered on his path of destruction long enough to lay in
ruins half the'little city of Bethlehem. It is a singular fact,
and exhibits a liberality elsewhere unknown in the history
of the Turks or of the Mussulman rehgion, that the height
of his indignation fell upon the Arabs. He spared the
Christians for a reason that never before operated with a
Turk — because they" had not off"ended. He did, too, an
other liberal thing ; saying that Christians and Mussul
mans could not live together in unity, he drove out from
Bethlehem the Arabs whom the sword had spared, and
left the place consecrated by the birth of Christ in the
exclusive possession of his followers. True, he stained
this act of clemency or policy by arbitrarily taking away
thirty Christian boys, whom he sent to work at the facto
ries in Cairo ; and the simple-hearted parents, hearing that
I had come from that city, asked me if I had seen their chil
dren. It is a happy thing for the traveller in the Holy Land,
that in almost all the principal places there is a Christian
convent, whose doors are always open to him ; and one of
the largest and finest of these is in Bethlehem. Riding
through the whole extent of the little town, greeted by
Christians, who, however, with their white turbans and
fierce mustaches and beards, had in my eyes a most un-

THE EMPRESS HELENA. 137
christian appearance, and stopping for a moment on the
high plain in front, overlooking the valley, and the sides
of the hill all cultivated in terraces, we dismounted at the
door of the convent.
Beginning my tour in the Holy Land at the birthplace of
our Saviour, and about to follow him in his wanderings
through Judea, Samaria, and Galilee, over the ground con
secrated by his preaching, his suiferings, and miracles, to
his crucifixion on Calvary, I must prepare my readers for a
disappointment which I experienced myself. The imme
diate followers of our Saviour, who personally knew the
localities which are now guarded and reverenced as holy
places, engrossed by the more important business of their
Master's mission, never marked these places for the knowl
edge of their descendants. Neglected for several centuries,
many of them were probably entirely unknown, when a new
spirit arose in the East, and the minds of the Christians
were inflamed with a passion for collecting holy relics, and
for making pilgrimages to the places consecrated by the
acts and suff"erings of our Redeemer and his disciples ; and
the Empress Helena, the mother of Constantine, the first
Christian empress, came as a crusader into the Holy Land,
to search for and determine the then unknown localities.
And the traveller is often astonished that, with so little to
guide her, she was so successful ; for she not only found
all the holy places mentioned in the Bible, but many more ;
and the piety of Christians will never forget that it was
through her indefatigable exertions the true cross was drawn
from the bottom of a dark pit, and is now scattered in pieces
all over the world, to gladden the hearts of believers. It
may be that the earnest piety of the empress sometimes
deceived her ; but then she always covered a doubtful place
with a handsomer monument, upon much the same princi
ple that a jockey praises a bad horse and says nothing of
a. good one, because the bad one wants praising and thp
Ma

138 INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL.
good one can speak for himself. Besides, the worthy em
press seemed to think that a little marble could not hurt s^
holy place, and a good deal might help to make holy what
was not so without it ; and so think most of the Christian
pilgrims, for I have observed that they always kiss with
more devotion the polished marble than the rude stone.
But the Christian who goes animated by the fresh, I may
almost say virgin feeling, awakened by the perusal of his
Bible, expecting to see in Bethlehem the stable in which
our Saviour was born and the manger in which he was
cradled, or in Jerusalem the tomb hewn out of the rock
wherein his crucified body was buried, will feel another
added to the many grievous disappointments of a traveller,
when he finds these hallowed objects, or at least what are
pointed out as these, covered and enclosed with party-col
oured marble, and bedecked with gaudy and inappropriate
ornaments, as if intentionally and impiously to destroy all
resemblance to the descriptions given in the sacred book.
I had intended going on to Jerusalem that afternoon ; but
the rain had retarded me so much, that, as soon as I saw
the interior of the convent, I determined to remain all night.
My muleteer insisted upon proceeding, as I had arranged
with him when I engaged him ; but my kervash silenced
him by a rap over the back with the fiat of his sword, and
he went off on his donkey alone, leaving behind him his
companion and his mules.
Entering by the small door of the convent, I heard in the
distance the loud pealing of an organ and the solemn chant
of the monks ; the sound transported me at once to scenes
that were familiar and almost homelike, the churches and
cathedrals in Italy ; and the appearance of one of the broth
ers, in the long brown habit of the Capuchins, with his
shaved head and sandals on his feet, made me feel for the
moment as if I were in Europe. The monks were then at
prayers ; and following him through the great church, down

A CLERICAL EXQUISITE. 139
a marble staircase, and along a subterranean carridor, in
five minutes after my arrival in Bethlehem I was standing
on the spot where the Saviour of mankind was born.
The superior was a young man, not more than thirty,
with a face and figure of uncommon beauty ; though not
unhealthy, his face was thin and pale, and his high, project
ing forehead indicated more than talent. Genius ffashed
from his eyes, though, so far as I could judge from his con
versation, he did not sustain the character his features and
expression promised. He was not insensible to the advan
tages of his personal appearance. The rope around His
waist, with the cross dangling at the end, was laid as neatly
as a soldier's sword-belt ; the top of his head was shaved,
his beard combed, and the folds of his long coarse dress,
his cowl, and the sandals on his feet, all were arranged with
a precision that, under other circumstances, would have
made him a Brummel. There was something, too, in the
display of a small hand and long taper fingers that savoured
more of the exquisite than of the recluse ; but I ought not
to have noted him too critically, for he was young, hand
some, and gentlemanly, and fit for better things than the
dronish life of a convent. I am inclined to believe, too,
that he sometimes thought of other things than his breviary
and his missal ; at all events, he was not particularly familiar
with Bible history ; for, in answer to his question as to the
route by which I had come, I told him that I had passed
through the land of Idumea ; and when I expected to see him
open his eyes with wonder, I found that he did not know
where the land of Idumea was. I remember that he got down
a huge volume in Latin, written by saint somebody, and we
pored over it together until pur attention was drawn off by
something else, and we forgot what we were looking for.
The walls of the convent contain all that is most inter
esting in Bethlehem; but outside the walls also are places
consecrated in Bible history, and which the pilgrim to Beth-

140 INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL.
lehem, in spite of doubts and confusion, will look upon with
exceeding interest. Standing on the high table of ground
in front of the convent, one of the monks pointed out the
fountain where, when David was thirsting, his young men
procured him water ; and in the rear of the convent is a
beautiful valley, having in the midst of it a ruined village,
marking the place where the shepherds were watching their
flocks at night when the angel came down and announced to
them the birth of the Saviour. The scene was as pastoral
as it had been eighteen hundred years before ; the sun was
going down, the shepherds were gathering their flocks to
gether, and one could almost imagine that, with the approach
of evening, they were preparing to receive another visiter
from on high. In the distance beyond the valley is a long
range of mountains enclosing the Dead Sea, and among
them was the wilderness of Engaddi; and the monk pointed
out a small opening as leading to the shores of the sea, at
the precise spot where Lot's wife was turned into a pillar
of salt.
Mixed with these references to Bible history were idle
legends of later days, connected with places to which the
monk conducted me with as much solemnity as he had dis
played when indicating the holy places of. Scripture. In a
grotto cut out of the rock is a chapel dedicated to the Vir
gin ; and he told me that the mother of Christ had here
concealed herself from Herod, and nursed the infant Jesus
forty days, before she escaped into Egypt. Near this is
another grotto, in which the Virgin, going to visit a neigh
bour with the child in her arms, took refuge from a shower,
and her milk overflowed ; and now, said the monk, there is
a faith among all people, Turks, Greeks, and Armenians,
that if a woman to, whom Nature has denied the power of
nursing her child comes to this grotto and prays before the
altar, the fountain of life will be opened to her. Nor wag
j;he virtue of the place confined tp those who should resort

A BOON COMPANION. 141
to It in person ; for the monks had prayed for and had ob
tained a delegation of the Virgin's power, and a small portion
of powder from the porous rock, swallowed in a little water,
would be equally efficacious to women having faith. A
huge chamber had been cut away in the back of the grotto
by pilgrims, who had taken with them to their distant homes
some of this beautiful provision for a want of nature, and
Paul and myself each took a pilgrim's share.
It was dark when I returned to the convent, followed by
my wild Arnaout, whom, by-the-way, I have neglected for
some time. I had told him on my arrival that I should not
need his escort any farther ; but he swore that he had his
orders, and would not leave me until he saw me safe within
the walls of Jerusalem ; and so far he had been as good as
his word ; for, wherever 1 went, he was close at my heels,
following with invincible gravity, but never intruding, and
the continual rattling of his steel scabbard being the only in
timation I had of his presence. He was now following me
through the stone court of the convent, into the room fitted
up for the reception of pilgrims and travellers. I liked hira,
and I liked to hear the clanking of his sword at my heels ;
I would have staked my life upon his faith ; and such con
fidence did he inspire by his bold, frank bearing, his manly,
muscular figure, and his excellent weapons, that with a
dozen such I would not have feared a whole tribe of Bed
ouins. In another country and a former age he would have
been the beau ideal ol a dashing cavalier, and an unflinching
companion at the winecup or in the battle-field. I bore in
mind our conversation in the morning about wine, and was
determined that ray liberal expounder of the Koran should
not suffer from my abstinence. The superior, apologizing
for the want of animal food, had told me to call for anything
in the convent, and I used the privilege for the benefit of
my thirsty Mussulman. The first thing I called for was
wine ; and, while supper was preparing, we were tasting

142 INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL.
its quality. He was no stickler for trifles, and accepted,
without any difficulty, my apology for not being able to
pledge him in full bumpers ; and although most of this time
Paul was away, and we could not exchange a word, the
more he drank the better I liked him. It was so long since
I had had with me a companion I liked, that I " cottoned"
to him more and more, and resolved to make the most of
hira. I had a plate for him at table by the side of me ; and
when Paul, who did not altogether enter into my feelings,
asked him if he would not rather eat alone, on the floor, he
half drew his sword, and, driving it back into its scabbard,
swore that he would eat with me if it was on the top of a
minaret. We sat down to table, and I did the honours with
an unsparing hand. He attempted for a moment the use of
the knife and fork, but threw them down in disgust, and
trusted to the means with which nature had provided him.
The wine he knew how to manage, and for the rest he
trusted to me ; and I gave him bread, olives, fish, milk,
honey, sugar, figs, grapes, dates, &c., &c., about as fast as
I could hand them over, one after the other, all together,
pellmell, and with such an utter contempt of all rules of
science as would -have made a Frenchman go mad. Paul
by this time entered into the spirit of the thing ; and when
my bold guest held up for a moment, he stood by with a raw
egg, the shell broken, and turning back his head, poured it
down his throat. I followed with a plate of brown sugar,
into which he thrust his hand to the knuckles, sent down a
huge mouthful to sweeten the egg, and, nearly kicking over
the table with an ejaculation about equivalent to our em
phatic " enough,'' threw himself upon the divan. I wound
him up with coffee and pipes ; and when the superior came
to me in the evening, to the scandal of the holy brotherhood,
my wild companion was lying asleep, as drunk as a lord,
upon the divan.
Several of the monks came in to see me 5 and all loved

THE SOLDIERS SLEEP. 143
to talk of the world they had left. They were all Italians ;
and in the dreariness and desolation of Judea, in spite of
monastic vows, their hearts turned to the sunny skies of
their beautiful native land. They left me at an early hour ;
and I trust the reader will forgive me, if, in the holy city of
Bethlehem, I forgot for a moment the high and holy associa
tions connected with the place, in the sense of enjoyment
awakened by the extraordinary luxury of a pair of sheets,
a luxury I had not known since my last night in Cairo.
Tempted as I was to yield myself at once to the enjoy
ment, I paused a while to look at the sleeping figure of my
kervash. He lay extended at full length on his back, with
his arms folded across his breast, his right hand clutching
the hilt of his sword, and his left the handle of a pistol ;
his broad chest rose and fell with his long and heavy res
pirations ; and he slept like a man who expected to be
roused by a cry to battle. His youth and manhood had
been spent in scenes of violence ; his hands were red with
blood ; murder and rapine had been familiar to him ; and
when his blood was up in battle, the shrieks and groans of
the dying were music in his ears ; yet he slept, and his
sleep was calm and sound as that of childhood. I stood
over him with the candle in my hand, and flashed the light
across his face ; his rugged features contracted, and his
sword rattled in his convulsive grasp. I blew out the light
and jumped into bed. Once during the night I was awa
kened by his noise ; by the dim light of a small larap that
hung frora the ceiling I saw him stumble to the table, seize
a huge jar of water, and apply it to his lips ; I saw him
throw back his head, and heard his long, regular, and
continued swallows ; and when he had finished the jar he
drew a long breath, went to the window, came to my bed
side, looked at me for a moment, probably thinking what
a deal of useless trouble I took in pulling off my clothes ;

144 INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL.
and, throwing himself upon the divan, in a few moments he
was again asleep.
In the morning immediately after breakfast one of the
monks came to conduct me through the convent. The
building covered a great extent of ground ; and for strength
and solidity, as well as size, resembled a fortress. It was
built by the Empress Helena, over the spot consecrated as
the birthplace of our Saviour, and was intended, so far as
human handiwork could do so, to honour and reverence the
holy spot. The insufficient means of the pious empress,
however, or some other cause, prevented its being finished
according to the plan she had designed ; and the charity of
subsequent Christians has barely sufficed to keep it from
falling to ruin. The great church would have been a mag
nificent building if finished according to her plan ; but
now, in its incomplete state, it is a melancholy monument
of defeated ambition. On each side is a range of noble
colurans, supporting a frieze of wood, which the monk told
me was cedar from Lebanon, and still remaining almost as
sound as the solid stone. The whole building is divided
among the Catholics, Greeks, and Armenians, the three
great bodies who represent, or rather misrepresent, Chris
tianity in the East. Each has its limits, beyond which the
others must not pass ; and again there are certain parts
which are common to all. The Turkish government exer
cises a control over it ; and, taking advantage of the dis
sensions between these different professors, sells the privi
leges to the highest bidder. In the great church the
Greeks, happening to have been the richest, are the largest
proprietors, to the great scandal of the Catholics, who hate
the Greeks with a most orthodox virulence.
The Grotto of the Nativity is under the floor of the
church; the Greeks having an entrance directly by its
side, and the Catholics by a longer and more distant pas
sage. I descended by the latter. My Arnaout was close

THE BIRTHPLACE OF CHRIST. 145
at my heels, grave and sober as if he had never known the
taste of wine, and following with a respect that might have
satisfied the most bigoted Christian. Indeed, it was a thing
to be noted, with what respect and reverence this wild and
lawless Mussulman regarded the holy places, consecrated
by a religion he believed false and the worship of a people
he despised. Nevertheless, Paul was scandalized at the
eyes of an unbeliever being permitted to see the holy
places ; and stopped at the top of the staircase, to urge
upon me the propriety of making him stay behind. The
kervash seemed to understand what he was saying, and to
intimate by his -looks that it would not be an easy matter
to turn him back. I did not think, however, that the feet
of a Mussulman would be in themselves a profanation, and
the monk making no objection, I silenced Paul's.
Passing through the chapel of the Catholic convent, where
the monks were teaching the children of the Arab Chris
tians the principles of the Catholic faith, I was conducted
to the room of the superior, where, among other relics which
I now forget, he showed me the withered hand of an infant,
preserved among the treasures of the convent as having
belonged to one of the innocents massacred by the order of
Herod. Near the door of the chapel we descended a flight
of stone steps, and then a second, imtil we came to an ex
cavation in the solid rock, and, following a passage to the
right, came to a little chapel, with an altar, dedicated to
Joseph, the husband of Mary. At the end of this passage
was a large chamber, called the school of St. Jerome, where
that great Catholic saint wrote his version of the Bible, the
celebrated Vulgate. Passing out through the door of this
chamber, on the right is the tomb of the saint ; and direct
ly opposite are the tombs of Santa Paula and another whose
name I have forgotten ; very good ladies, no doubt ; but
who they were, or why they were buried in that holy place,
I did not understand ; although they must have died in the
Vol. II.— N

146 INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL;
odour of sanctity, as their bodies have since been removed
to the papal city. Returning into the first passage; and
advancing a few steps, on the left is an altar over the pit
into which the bodies of the murdered innocents were
thrown. Under the altar is a recess with an iron grating,
opening into the pit, or rather vault below. By the light of
a torch I gazed long and earnestly within, but could see
nothing that gave confirmation to the story. Over the altar
was a rude painting, representing the massacred infants
held up by their heels, with their throats cut, and their
bowels gushing out ; the anguish of the mothers, and all
the necessary and fearful accompaniments of such a scene.
A few paces farther is an altar, over the spot where Joseph
sat during the birth of the divine infant, meditating upon the
great event ; and farther on, to the left, is the entrance to
the Grotto of the Nativity.
It was the hour assigned for the use of the Armenians,
and the monks were all there chanting the praises of the
Redeemer. The chamber of the grotto is thirty-seven feet
long and eleven wide, with a marble fioor and walls, the
latter adorned with tapestry and paintings. Directly in
front of the door by which we entered, at the other end of
the grotto, is a semicircular recess, lined and floored with
small blocks of marble ; and in the centre a single star,
with the inscription, " Hie natus est Jesus Christus de Vir-
ga," here Christ was born of the Virgin. The star in the
east which went before the wise men, says the tradition,
rested over this spot ; and fourteen lamps, the gifts of Chris
tian princes, burning night and day, constantly illumine the
birthplace of salvation to a nlined world. On the right,
descending two steps, is a chamber paved and lined with
marble, having at one end a block polished and hollowed
out ; and this is the manger in which our Saviour was laid.
Over the altar is a picture representing a stable with horses
and cattle, and behind a little iron wickerwork are five

A SACRED SPOT. 147
«
lamps constantly burning. Directly opposite is the altar
of the magi, where the three kings sat when they came to
offer presents to the Son of God. Over it is a picture rep
resenting them in the act of making their offerings ; and
one of the kings is represented as an Ethiopian.
All this has but little conformity with the rude scene of
the stable and the manger as described in the Bible ; and,
in all probability, most of the holy places pointed out in
Bethlehem, and adorned and transformed by the false but
well-meaning piety of Christians, have no better claim to
authenticity than the credulity of a weak and pious old
woman. But amid all the doubts that present themselves
when we stop to ponder and reflect, it is sufficient for our
enjoyment of these scenes to know that we are in " Beth
lehem of Judea," consecrated by the greatest event in the
history of the world, the birth of the Son of God. We
know that, within the atmosphere we breathe, Christ first
appeared on earth ; that one of the stars of heaven left its
place among the constellations, and hovered over the spot
on which we stand ; that the kings of the earth came here
to offer gifts to the holy child ; and, beholding multitudes
of pilgrims from far-distant lands constantly prostrating
themselves before the altar, in the earnestness and sinceri
ty of undoubting faith, we give ourselves up to the illusion,
if illusion it be, and are ready to believe that we are indeed
standing where Christ was born.
My Arnaout behaved remarkably well, though once he
broke the stillness of the grotto by an involuntary exclama
tion ; his loud harsh voice, and the rattling of his armour,
startled for a moment the monks and praying pilgrims. On
coming out, I told him that the Christians were much more
liberal than the Mussulmans ; for we had permitted him to
see all the holy places in the church, while I had been vio
lently driven from the door of the mosque in Hebron. He
railed at the ignorance and prejudices of his countrymen,

148 INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL.
and swore, if I would go back to Hebron, he would carry
me through the mosque on the point of his sword. I did
not much relish this method of entering a mosque, but took
it, as it was meant, for a warm expression of his willing
ness to serve me ; and we returned to the apartment of the
superior to bid him farewell. The superior accompanied
us to the door of the convent ; and, without meaning to be
scandalous, or insinuate that there was anything wrong in
it, although he was a young and handsome man, I left him
talking with a woman.

THE TPMB OF RACHEL. 149

CHAPTER X.
The Tomb of Rachel. — First View of Jerusalem. — Falling among Thieves.
— Potent Sway of the Pacha. — A Turkish Dignitary. — A Missionary. —
Easter in Jerusalem. — A Little Congregation.
Giving a last look to the Valley of the Shepherds, we
were soon on the mountain's side ; and very soon all the
interest with which I had regarded Bethlehem was lost in
the more absorbing feeling with which I looked forward to
Jerusalem. My muleteer had gone on the night before ;
my Arnaout knew nothing of the holy places on the road,
and we took with us a Christian boy to point them out.
The first was the tomb of Rachel, a large building, with a
whitened dome, and having within it a high oblong monu
ment, built of brick, and stuccoed over. I dismounted and
walked round the tomb, inside and out, and again resumed
my journey. All that we know in regard to this tomb is,
that Rachel died when journeying with Jacob from Sychem
to Hebron, and that Jacob buried her near Bethlehem ; and
whether it be her tomb or not, I could not but remark that,
while youth and beauty have faded away, and the queens
of the East have died and been forgotten, and Zenobia and
Cleopatra sleep in unknown graves, year after year thou
sands of pilgrims are thronging to the supposed last resting-
place of a poor Hebrew woman.
The boy next conducted us to a stony field, by which, as
he said, the Virgin once passed and asked for beans ; the
owner of the field told her there were none ; and, to punish
him for his falsehood and lack of charity, the beans were all
changed into stones, and the country had remained barren
N2

150 INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL.
ever since. Paul had been twice to Bethlehem without
seeing this field ; and he immediately dismounted and
joined the boy in searching for the holy petrifactions. " It
was wonderful," said Paul, as he picked up some little
stones as much like beans as anything else ; " and see,
too," said he, "how barren the country is." In about an
hour we came to the Greek monastery of St. Elias ; a large
stone building, standing on an eminence, and commanding
a fine view of Bethlehem. Stopping to water my horse at
a fountain in front of the monastery, I turned to take a last
look at Bethlehem ; and my horse moving a few paces,
when I turned again I saw in full view the holy city of Je
rusalem. I did not expect it, and was startled by its prox
imity. It looked so small, and yet lay spread out before
me so distinctly, that it seemed as if I ought to perceive the
inhabitants moving through the streets, and hear their voices
humming in my ears. I saw that it was walled all around,
and that it stood alone in an extensive waste of mountains,
without suburbs, or even a solitary habitation beyond its
walls. There were no domes, steeples, or turrets to break
the monotony of its aspect, and even the mosques and min
arets made no show. It would have been a relief, and af
forded something to excite the feelings, to behold it in ruins,
or dreary and desolate like Petifa, or with the banner of the
Prophet, the blood-red Mussulman flag, waving high above
its walls. But all was tame and vacant. There was no
thing in its appearance that afforded me a sensation ; it did
not even inspire me with melancholy ; and I probably con
vict myself when I say that the only image it presented to
my mind was that of a city larger and in better condition
than the usual smaller class of those within the Turkish
dominion. I was obliged to rouse myself by recalling to
mind the long train of extraordinary incidents of which that
little city had been the theatre, and which made it, in the
eyes of the Christian at least, the most hallowed spot on

FALLING AMONG THIEVES. 151
earth. One thing only particularly struck me — its exceed
ing stillness. It was about midday ; but there was no
throng of people entering or departing from its gates, no
movement of living creatures to be seen beneath its walls.
All was as quiet as if the inhabitants were, like the Span
iards, taking their noonday sleep. We passed the Pools of
Hezekiah, and came in sight of the Mount of Olives ; and
now, for the first signs of life, we saw streaming from the
gate a long procession of men, women, and children, on
dromedaries, camels, and horses, and on foot ; pilgrims who
had visited Calvary and the holy sepulchre, and were now
bending their steps towards Bethlehem.
At every moment the approach was gaining interest; but
in a few minutes, while yet about an hour distant from the
walls, my attention was diverted from the city by the sud
den appearance of our muleteer, who had left us the day
before in a pet, and gone on before us to Jerusalem. He
was sitting on the ground alone," so wan and wo-begone, so
changed from the spruce and well-dressed muleteer who
had accompanied us from Hebron, that I scarcely recog
nised him. Every article of his former dress was gone,
from his gay turban to his long boots ; and in their stead he
displayed an old yellow striped shawl, doing duty as a tur
ban, and a ragged Bedouin gown. Late in the afternoon,
while hurrying on to get in before the gates should be closed,
he was hailed by four Arabs ; and when he attempted to
escape by pushing his donkey, he was brought to by a mus
ket-ball passing through the folds of his dress and grazing
his side. A hole in his coat, however, did not save it ; and,
according to the Arab mode of robbery, they stripped him
to his skin, and left him stark naked in the road. Frora his
manner of telling the story, I am inclined to think that the
poor fellow had not conducted himself very valiantly ; for
though he did not regard the scratch on his side or the risk
he had run of his life, he mourned bitterly over the loss of

152 INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL.
his garments. Arrived in the Holy Land, I had thought
danger of all kinds at an end ; and I could not help recog
nising the singular good fortune which had accompanied me
thus far, and congratulating myself upon the accident which
had detained me at Bethlehem.
We were soon approaching the walls of Jerusalem, and
seemed to be almost at their foot ; but we were on one of
the mountains that encompass the city, and the deep Valley
of Jehoshaphat was yet between us and the holy city — the
sacred burying-ground of the Jews, the " gathering-place of
nations." Crossing this valley, we ascended on the other
side, and in a few moments were on one of the seven hills
on which the city is built, and entering at the Bethlehem
gate. It was guarded by a Turkish soldier, and half a doz
en more lay basking in the sun outside, who raised their
heads as 1 approached, their long mustaches curling as they
looked at me ; and though they gave me no greeting, they
let me pass without any molestation. On the right was the
citadel ; a soldier was on the walls, and a small red flag,
the standard of Mohammed, was drooping against its staff.
In front was an open place, irregular, and apparently formed
by clearing away the ruins of fallen houses. As in all
Turkish cities, the stillness was unbroken ; there was no
rattling of wheels over the pavements, nor even the tramp
of horses.
We wound around the walls, and dismounted at the only
asylum for strangers, the Latin Convent. I presented my
self to the superior ; and, after receiving from him a kind
and cordial welcome, with the usual apologies for meager
fare on account of its being Lent, went to the room assigned
me ; and had just sat down to dinner, when my poor mule
teer entered in greater distress than ever.
Afraid of the very thing that happened, he had started
immediately on his return to Hebron, and at the gate his
mules were seized by a soldier for the use of the govern-

POTENT SWAY OF THE PACHA. 153
ment. It was in a spirit of perfect wretchedness that the
poor fellow, still smarting under the loss of his clothes, al
most threw himself at my feet, and begged me to intercede
for him. I was, of course, anxious to help him if I could,
and immediately rose to go with him ; but Paul told me to
remain quiet, and he would settle the matter in five minutes.
Paul was a great admirer of the pacha. Wherever his gov
ernment was established, he had made it safe for the trav
eller ; and Paul's courage always rose and fell according to
the subdued or unsubdued state of the population. In the
city of Jerusalem the wind could scarcely blow without the
leave of Ibrahim Pacha ; and Paul had mounted on stilts
almost as soon as we crossed the threshold of the gate.
He had already been at his old tricks of pushing the unre
sisting Arabs about, and kicking them out of the way, as in
the miserable villages on the Nile ; and, strong in the om
nipotence of the firman, he now hurried to the gate ; but he
came back faster than he went. I have no doubt that he
was very presuming and impudent, and richly deserved more
than he got ; but, at all events, he returned on a full run,
and in a towering passion. The soldier had given him the
usual Mussulman abuse, showering upon him the accus
tomed " dog" and " Christian ;" and, moreover, had driven
him to the verge of madness by calling him a " Jew," and
threatening to whip both him and his master. Paul ran
away from what I am inclined to believe would have been
his share, as the Arabs had taken part against him ; and,
burning with the indignity of being called a Jew, begged
me to seek redress of the governor. I was roused myself,
not so much by the particular insult to Paul, as by the gen
eral intention of the thing, and the disconsolate figure of my
poor muleteer ; and leaving my unfinished meal, with my
firman in my hand, and Paul and the muleteer at my heels,
I started for the palace of the governor.
Old things and new are strangely blended in Jerusalem ;

154 INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL.
and the residence of the Turkish governor is in the large
building which to this day bears the name of Pontius Pilate.
Paul told me its history as we were ascending the steps ;
and it passed through my mind as a strange thing, that al
most the first moment after entering the city, I was making
a complaint, perhaps in the same hall where the Jews had
complained of Christ before Pontius Pilate, having with me
a follower of that Christ, whom the Jews reviled and buf
feted, burning under the indignity of being called a Jew.
The governor, as is the custom of governors in the East,
and probably as Pontius Pilate did in the time of our Sa
viour, sat in a large room, ready to receive everybody who
had any complaint to make ; his divan was a raised plat
form, on an iron camp-bedstead, covered with rich Tur
key rugs, and over them a splendid lion-skin. His face
was noble, and his long black beard the finest I ever saw ;
a pair of large pistols and a Damascus sabre were lying by
his side, and a rich fur cloak, thrown back over his shoul
ders, displayed a form that might have served as a model
for a Hercules. Altogether, he reminded me of Richard in
his tent on the plains of Acre. At the moment of my entry
he was breathing on a brilliant diamond, and I noticed on
his finger an uncommonly beautiful emerald. He received
me with great politeness ; and when I handed him the pa
cha's firman, with a delicacy and courtesy I never saw sur
passed, he returned it to me unopened and unread, telling
me that my dress and appearance were sufficient recom
mendation to the best services in his power. If the reader
would know what dress and appearance are a sufficient rec
ommendation to the best offices of a Turkish governor, I
will merely mention that, having thrown off, or rather hav
ing been stripped of, most of my Turkish dress at Hebron,
I stood before the governor in a red tarbouch, with a long
black silk tassel, a blue roundabout jacket buttoned up to the
throat, gray pantaloons, bpots splashed with mud, a red

A TURKISH DIGNITARY. 155
sash, a pair of large Turkish pistols, sword, and my Nubian
club in my hand ; and the only decided mark of aristocracy
about me was my beard, which, though not so long as the
governor's, far exceeded it in brilliancy of complexion.
The few moments I had had for observation, and the
courteous demeanour of the governor, disarmed me of my
anger ; and coffee and the first pipe over, 1 stated my griev
ances very dispassionately. Paul's wrath was still domi
nant, and I have no doubt he represented the conduct of the
soldier as much worse than it was ; for the governor, turning
to me without any further inquiries, asked if he should
have him bastinadoed. This summary justice startled even
Paul ; and feeling a little ashamed of my own precipitation,
I was now more anxious to prevent punishment than 1 had
before been to procure it ; and begged him to spare the
soldier, and merely order him to release the mules. With
out another word he called a janizary, and requesting me to
wait, ordered him to accompany Paul to the gate where the
scene took place ; and when Paul returned, the muleteer,
with a thankful heart, was already on his way to Hebron.
I had the satisfaction of learning, too, that the officers were
on the track of the robbers who had stripped him, and be
fore morning the governor expected to have them in custody.
Several times afterward I called upon the governor, and
was always treated with the same politeness. Once, when
I was walking alone outside the walls, I met him sitting on
the grass, with his janizaries and slaves standing up around
him ; and the whole Turkish population being out wandering
among the tombs, he procured for me a respect and considera
tion which I think were useful to me afterward, by calling me
to a seat beside hira, and giving me the pipe from his own
mouth. Some months afterward, at Genoa, 1 saw a brief arti
cle in an Italian paper, referring to a previous article, giving
an account of a then late revolution there, in which the gov
ernor was on the point of falling into the hands of the insur-

156 INCIDENTS Ot TRAVEL.
gents. I have never seen any account of the particulars of
this revolution, and do not know whether he is now living
or dead. In the East life hangs by so brittle a thread, that
when you part from a man in power, in all probability you
will never see him again. T can only hope that the Gover
nor of Jerusalem still lives, and that his condition in life is
as happy as when I saw him.
It was Saturday afternoon when I arrived at Jerusalem.
I had a letter of introduction to Mr. Thompson, an Ameri^
can missionary, and the first thing I did was to look forhinr.
One of the monks of the convent gave me the directlOTi' to
the American priest, not knowing his name ; and, instead
of Mr. Thompson, I found Mr. Whiting, who had been there
about a year in his place. Like the governor, Mr. Whiting
did not want any credentials ; but here, being among judges,
it was not my dress and appearance that recommended me.
I was an American, and at that distance from home the
name of countryman was enough. In the city of Jerusalem
such a meeting was to him a rare and most welcome inci
dent ; while to me, who had so long been debarred all con
versation except with Paul and the Arabs, it was a pleasure
which few can ever know, to sit down with a compatriot,
and once more, in my native tongue, hold converse of my
native land.
Each of us soon learned to look upon the other as a
friend ; for we found that an old friend and schoolmate of
mine had been also a friend and schoolmate of his own.
He would have had me stay at his house ; but I returned to
the convent, and with my thoughts far away, and fuU of the
home of which we had been talking, I slept for the first
night in the city of Jerusalem.
The first and most interesting object within the walls of
the holy city, the spot to which every pilgrim first directs
his steps, is the holy sepulchre. The traveller who has
never read the descriptions of those who have preceded him

EASTER IN JERUSALEM. 157
in a pilgrimage through the Holy Land, finds his expecta
tions strangely disappointed, when, approaching this hal
lowed tomb, he sees around him the tottering houses of a
ruined city, and is conducted to the door of a gigantic church.
This edifice is another, and perhaps the principal, monu
ment of the Empress Helena's piety. What authority she
had for fixing here the site of the Redeemer's burial-place I
will not stop to inquire. Doubtless she had her reasons ;
and there is more pleasure in believing than in raising
doubts which cannot be confirmed. In the front of the
church is a large courtyard, filled with dealers in beads,
crucifixes, and relics ; among the most conspicuous of whom
are the Christians of Bethlehem, with figures of the Saviour,
the Virgin, and a host of saints, carved from mother of pearl,
in all kinds of fantastic shapes. It was precisely the time
at which I had wished and expected to be in Jerusalem —
the season of Easter — and thousands of pilgrims, from every
part of the Eastern world, had already arrived for the great
ceremonies of the holy week. The court was thronged
with them, crowded together so that it was almost impossi
ble to move, and waiting, like myself, till the door of the
church should be opened.
The holy sepulchre, as in the days when all the chivalry
of Europe armed to wrest it from them, is still in the hands
of the infidels ; and it would have made the sword of an
old crusader leap from its scabbard to behold a haughty
Turk, with the air of a lord and master, standing sentinel
at the door, and with his long mace beating and driving
back the crowd of struggling Christians. As soon as the
door was opened a rush was made for entrance ; and as I
was in the front rank, before the impetus ceased, amid a
perfect storm of pushing, yelling, and shouting, 1 was car
ried almost headlong into the body of the church. The press
continued behind, hurrying me along, and kicking off my
shoes ; and in a state of desperate excitement both of mind
Vol. II.— O

158 INCIDENTS OP TRAVEt.
and body, utterly unsuited to the place and time, I found
myself standing over the so called tomb of Christ ; where,
to enhance the incongruity of the scene, at the head of the
sepulchre stood a long-bearded monk, with a plate in his
handj receiving the paras of the pilgrims. My dress marked
me as a different person from the miserable, beggarly crowd
before me ; and expecting a better contribution from me, at
the tomb of him who had pronounced that all men are equal
in the sight of God, with an expression of contempt like
the " canaille" of a Frenchman, and with kicks, cuffs, and
blows, he drove back those before me, and gave me a place
at the bead of the sepulchre. My feelings were painfully
disturbed, as well by the manner of my entrance as by the
irreverent demeanour of the monk ; and disappointed, dis
gusted, and sick at heart, while hundreds were still strug
gling for admission, I turned away and left the church. A
warmer imagination than mine, could perhaps have seen, in
a white marble sarcophagus, " the sepulchre hewn out of a
rock/' and in the fierce struggling of these barefooted pil
grims the devotion of sincere and earnest piety, burning to
do homage in the holiest of places ; but I could not.
It was refreshing to turn from this painful exhibition of a
deformed and degraded Christianity to a simpler and purer
scene. The evening before, Mr. Whiting had told me that
religious exercises would be performed at bis house the
next day ; and I hastened from the church to join in the
grateful service. I found him sitting at a table, with a
large family Bible open before him. His wife was present,
with two little Armenian girls, whom she was educating to
assist her in her school ; and I was not a little surprised to
find that, when I had taken my seat, the congregation was
assembled. In fact, Mr. Whiting had only been waiting
for me ; and, as soon as I came in, he coramenced the ser
vice to which I had been so long a stranger. It was long
since I had heard the words of truth from the lips of a

A LITTLE CONGREGATION. 159
preacher ; and as I sat with my eyes fixed upon the Garden
of Gethsemane and the Mount of Olives, I could not help
thinking of it as a strangely-interesting fact, that here, in
the holy city of Jerusalem, where Christ preached and died,
though thousands were calling upon his name, the only
persons who were praising him in simplicity and truth were
a missionary and his wife, and a passing traveller, all from
a far-distant land. I had, moreover, another subject of re
flection. In Greece I had been struck with the fact that
the only schools of instruction were those established by
American missionaries, and supported by the liberality of
American citizens ; that our young republic was thus, in
part, discharging the debt which the world owes to the an
cient mistress of science and the arts, by sending forth her
sons to bestow the elements of knowledge upon the de
scendants of Homer and Pericles, Plato and Aristotle ; and
here, on the very spot whence the apostles had - gone forth
to preach the glad tidings of salvation to a ruined world, a
missionary from the same distant land was standing as an
apostle over the grave of Christianity, a solitary labourer
striving to re-establish the pure faith and worship that were
founded on this spot eighteen centuries ago.

160 INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL.

CHAPTER XL
Church of the Holy Sepulchre. — An unexpected Discovery. — Mount Cal
vary. — The Sepulchre. — The Valley of Jehoshaphat. — The Garden ot
Gethsemane.— Place of the Temple.— The four Great Tombs. — Siloa's
Brook. During my stay in Jerusalem a dgy seldom passed in
which Idid not visit the Church of the Holy Sepulchre;
but my occupation was chiefly to observe the conduct of the
pilgrims ; and, if the reader will accompany me into the in
terior, he will see what I was in the habit of seeing every
day. The key of the church is kept by the governor of the
city ; the door is guarded by a Turk, and opened only at
fixed hours, and then only with the consent of the three
convents, and in the presence of their several dragomen ;
an arrangement which often causes great and vexatious de
lays to such as desire admittance. This formality was
prbbably intended for solemnity and effect, but its conse
quence is exactly the reverse; for, as soon as the door is
opened, the pilgrims, who have almost always been kept
waiting for some time, and have naturally become impa
tient, rush in, struggling with each other, overturning the
dragomen, and thumped by the Turkish doorkeeper, and
are driven like a herd of wild animals into the body of the
church. I do not mean to exaggerate a picture, the lightest
of whose shades is already too dark. I describe only what
I saw, and with this assurance the reader must believe me
when I say that I frequently considered it putting life and
limb in peril to mingle in that crowd. Probably it is not
always so ; but there were at that time within the walls of

CHURCH OF THE HOLY SEPULCHRE. 161
Jerusalem from ten to twenty thousand pilgrims, and all
had come to visit the holy sepulchre.
Supposing, then, the rush to be over, and the traveller to
have recovered from its effects, he will find himself in a
large apartment, forming a sort of vestibule ; on the left, in
a recess of the wall, is a large divan, cushioned and car
peted, where the Turkish doorkeeper is usually sitting, with
half a dozen of his friends, smoking the long pipe and
drinking coffee, and always conducting himself with great
dignity and propriety. Directly in front, surmounted by
an iron railing, having at each end three enormous wax
candles more than twenty feet high, and suspended above
it a number of silver lamps of different sizes and fashions,
gifts from the Catholic, Greek, and Armenian convents, is
a long flat stone, called the " stone of unction ;" and on this,
it is said, the body of oiir Lord was laid when taken down
from the cross, and washed and anointed in preparation for
sepulture. This is the first object that arrests the pilgrims
on their entrance ; and here they prostrate themselves in
succession, the old and the young, women and children, the
rich man and the beggar, and all kiss the sacred stone. It
is a slab of polished white marble ; and one of the monks,
whom I questioned on the subject as he rose from his knees,
after kissing it most devoutly, told me that it was not the
genuine stone, which he said was under it, the marble hav
ing been placed there as an ornamental covering, and to
protect the hallowed relic from the abuses of the Greeks,
On the left is an iron circular railing, in the shape of a
large parrot's cage, having within it a lamp, and marking
the spot where the women sat while the body was anointed
for the tomb. In front of this is an open area, surrounded
by high square columns, supporting a gallery above. The
area is. covered by a dome, imposing in appearance and ef
fect ; and directly under, in the centre of the area, is an ob-
Jong building, about twenty feet long and twelve feet highi
oa

162 INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL.
circular at the back, but square and finished with a platform
in front ; and within this building is the holy sepulchre.
Leaving for a moment the throng that is constantly press
ing at the door of the sepulchre, let us make the tour of the
church. Around the open space under the dome are small
chapels for the Syrians, Copts, Maronites, and other sects
of Christians who have not, like the Catholics, the Greeks,
and Armenians, large chapels in the body of the church.
Between two of the pillars is a small door, opening to a
dark gallery, which leads, as the monks told me, to the
tombs of Joseph and Nicodemus, between which and that
of the Saviour there is a subterranean comraunication.
These tombs are excavated in the rock, which here forms
lhe floor of the chamber. Without any expectation of ma
king a discovery, I remember that once, in prying about this
part of the building alone, I took the little taper that lighted
the chamber and stepped down into the tomb ; and I had
just time to see that one of the excavations never conld
have been intended for a tomb, being not more than three
feet long, when I heard the footsteps of pilgrim visiters, and
scrambled out with such haste that I let the taper fall, put
out the light, and had to grope my way back in the dark.
Farther on, and nearly in range of the front of the sepul
chre, is a large opening, forming a sort of court to the entrance
of the Latin Chapel. On one side is a gallery, containing a
fine organ ; and the chapel itself is neat enough, and differs
but little from those in the churches of Italy. This is called
the chapel of apparition, where Christ appeared to the Vir
gin. Within the door, on the right, in an enclosure, com
pletely hidden from view, is the pillar of flagellation, to
which our Saviour was tied when he was scourged, before
being taken into the presence of Pontius Pilate. A long
stick is passed through a hole in the enclosure, the handle
being outside, and the pUgrim thrusts it in till it strikes
against the pillar, when he draws it out and kisses the

THE CHAPEL OF THE CROSS. 163
point. Only one half of the pillar is here ; the other half
is in one of the churches at Rome, where may also be
seen the table on which our Saviour ate his last supper
with his disciples, and the stone on which the cock crowed
when Peter denied his master !
Going back again from the door of the chapel of appari
tion, and turning to the left, on the right is the outside of
the Greek chapel, which occupies the largest space in the
body of the church ; and on the left is a range of chapels
and doors, the first of which leads to the prison where, they
say, our Saviour was confined before he was led to cruci
fixion. In front of the door is an unintelligible machine,
described as the stone on which our Saviour was placed
when'put in the stocks. I had never heard of this incident
in the story of man's redemption, nor, in all probability, has
the reader; but the Christians in Jerusalem have a great
deal more of such knowledge than they gain from the Bible.
Even Paul knew much that is not recorded in the sacred
volume ; for he had a book, written by a priest in Malta,
and giving many particulars in the life of our Saviom:
which all the evangelists never knew, or knowing, have en
tirely omitted.
Next is the chapel where the soldier who struck his
spear into the side of the Redeemer, as he hung upon the
cross, retired and wept over his transgression. Beyond
this is the chapel where the Jews divided Christ's raiment,
and " cast lots for his vesture." The next is one of the
most holy places in the church, the chapel of the cross.
Descending twenty-eight broad marble steps, the visiter
comes to a large chamber eighteen paces square, dimly
lighted by a few distant lamps ; the roof is supported by
four short columns with enormous capitals. In front of the
steps is the altar, and on the right a seat on which the Em
press Helena, advised by a dream where the true cross was
to be found, sat and watche'fl the workmen who were dig

164 INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL.
ging below. Descending again fourteen steps, another
chamber is reached, darker and more dimly lighted than the
first, and hung with faded red tapestry ; a marble slab, hav
ing on it a figure of the cross, covers the mouth of the
pit in which the true cross was found. The next chapel is
over the spot where our Saviour was crowned with thorns ;
and under the altar, protected by an iron grating, is the
very stone on which he sat. Then the visiter arrives at
Mount Calvary.
A narrow marble staircase of eighteen steps leads to a
chapel about fifteen feet square, paved with marble in mo
saic, and hung oft all sides with silken tapestry and lamps
dimly burning ; the chapel is divided by two short pillars,
hung also with silk, and supporting quadrangular arches.
At the extremity is a large altar, ornamented with paintings
and figures ; and under the altar a circular silver plate, with
a hole in the centre, indicating the spot in which rested the
step of the cross. On each side of the hole is another,
the two designating the places where the crosses of the two
thieves were erected ; and near by, on the same marble
platform, is a crevice about three feet long and three inches
wide, having brass bars over it and a covering of silk ; re
moving the covering, by the aid, of a lamp I saw beneath a
fissure in a rock ; and this, say the monks, is the rock
which was rent asunder when our Saviour, in the agonies
of death, cried out from the cross, " My God, my God, why
hast thou forsaken me ?" Descending to the floor of the
church, underneath is an iron grating which shows more
distinctly the fissure in the rock ; and directly opposite is a
large monument over the head of- — Adam.
The reader will probably think that all these things are
enough to be comprised under one roof ; and, having fin
ished the tour of the ehurch, I returned to the great object
of the pilgrimage to Jerusalem — the Holy Sepulchre. Ta
king off the shoes on the marble platforip in front, th^

THE SEPULCHRE. 165
visiter is admitted by a low door, on entering which the
proudest head must needs do reverence. In the centre of
the first chamber is the stone which was rolled away from
the mouth of the sepulchre — a square block of marble, cut
and polished ; and though the Armenians have lately suc
ceeded in establishing the genuineness of the stone in their
chapel on Mount Zion (the admission by the other monks,
however, being always accompanied by the assertion that
they stole it), yet the infatuated Greek still kisses and
adores this block of marble as the very stone on which the
angel sat when he announced to the women, " He is not
dead ; he is risen ; come see the place where the Lord
lay." Again bending the head, and lower than before, the
visiter enters the inner chamber, the holiest of holy places.
The sepulchre " hewn out of the rock" is a marble sar
cophagus, somewhat resembling a common marble bathing-
tub, with a lid of the same material. Over it hang forty-
three lamps, which bum without ceasing night and day.
The sarcophagus is six feet one inch long, and occupies
about one half of the chamber ; and one of the monks being
always present to receive the gifts or tribute of the pilgrims,
there is only room for three or four at a time to enter. The
walls are of a greenish marble, usually called verd-antique,
and this is all. And it will be borne in mind that all this
is in a building above ground, standing on the floor of the
church. If I can form any judgment from my own feelings, every
man other than a blind and determined enthusiast, when ho
stands by the side of that marble sarcophagus, must be
ready to exclaim, " This is not the place where the Lord
lay ;" and yet I must be wrong, for sensible men have
thought otherwise ; and Dr. Richardson, the most cautious
traveller in the Holy Land, speaks of it as the " Mansion
of victory, where Christ triumphed over the grave, and dis
armed death of all its terrors." The feelings of a man are

166 INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL.
to be envied who can so believe. I cannot imagine a
higher and holier enthusiasm ; and it would be far more
agreeable to sustain than to dissolve such illusions ; but,
although I might be deceived by my own imagination and
the glowing descriptions of travellers, I would at least have
the merit of not deceiving others. The sepulchre of Christ
is too holy a thing to be made the subject of trickery and
deception ; and I am persuaded that it would be far better
for the interests of Christianity that it had remained for
ever locked up in the hands of the Turks, and all access to
it been denied to Christian feet.
But I was not disposed to cavil. It was far easier, and
suited my humour far better, to take things as I found them ;
and in this spirit, under the guidance of a monk and accom
panied by a procession of pilgrims, I wandered through the
streets of Jerusalem; visited the Pool of Bethesda, where
David saw Bathsheba bathing ; the five porches where the
sick were brought to be healed ; the house of Simon the
Pharisee, where Mary Magdalene confessed her sins ; the
prison of St. Peter ; the house of Mary the mother of
Mark ; the mansion of Dives and the house of Lazarus
(which, by-the-way, not to be skeptical again, did not look
as if its tenant had ever lain at its neighbour's gate, and
begged for the " crumbs which fell from the rich man's
table") ; and entering the Via Dolorosa, the way by which
the Saviour passed from the judgment-hall of Pilate to Cal
vary, saw the spot where the people laid hold of Simon the
Cyrene, and compelled him to bear the cross ; three differ
ent stones on which Christ, fainting, sat down to rest ;
passed under the arch called Ecce homo, and looked up at
the window from which the Roman judge exclaimed to the
persecuting Jews, " Behold the man."
But if the stranger leaves the walls of the city, his faith
is not so severely tested ; and, for my own part, disposed
to indemnify myself for my unwilling skepticism, the third

THE TOMB OF JOSEPH AND MARY. 167
day after my arrival at Jerusalem, on a bright and beautiful
morning, with my Nubian club in my hand; which soon be
came the terror of all the cowardly dogs in Jerusalem, I
stood on the threshold of St. Stephen's Gate. Paul was
with me ; and stopping for a moment among tlie tombs in
the Turkish burying-ground, we descended towards the
bridge across the brook Kedron, and the mysterious Valley
of Jehoshaphat. Here I was indeed among the hallowed
places of the Bible. Here all was as nature had left it,
and spared by the desecrating hand of man ; and as I
gazed upon the vast sepulchral monuraents, the tombs of Ab
salom, of Zachariah, and Jehoshaphat, and the thousands
and tens of thousands of Hebrew tombstones covering the
declivity of the mountain, I had no doubt I was looking
upon that great gathering-place, where, three thousand
years ago, the Jew buried his dead under the shadow of
the Temple of Solomon ; and where, even at this day, in
every country where his race is known, it is the dearest
wish of his heart that his bones may be laid to rest among
those of his long-buried ancestors.
Near the bridge is a small table-rock, reverenced as the
spot where Stephen the Martyr was stoned to death ; but
even here one cannot go far without finding the handiwork
of the Lady Helena. A little to the left is the tomb of Jo
seph and Mary. Descending a few steps to a large marble
door, opening to a subterraneous church, excavated from
the solid rock, and thence by a flight of fifty marble steps,
each twenty feet long, we came to the fioor of the cham
ber. On the right, in a large recess, is the tomb of the
Virgin, having over it an altar, and over the altar a paint
ing representing her deathbed, with the Son standing over
her, to comfort her and receive her blessing. This is an
interesting domestic relation in which to exhibit a mother
and her son; but rather inconsistent with the Bible account
of the Virgin Mother being present at the crucifixion of

168 INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL.
our Lord. Indeed, it is a singular fact, that with all the
pious homage which they pay to the Son of God, adoring
him as equal with the Father in power and goodness, and
worshipping the very ground on which he is supposed to
have trodden, there is still among the Christians of the East
a constant tendency to look upon him as a man of flesh.
In a community like ours, governed by a universal senti
ment of the spiritual character of our Saviour, it would be
regarded as setting at defiance the religious impressions of
the people even to repeat what is talked of familiarly by
the people of the East ; but, at the risk of incurring this
reproach, it is necessary, to illustrate their character, to
say that I have heard them talk of the Saviour, and of every
incident in his history, as a man with whom they had been
familiar in his life ; of the Virgin nursing the " little Jesus;"
of his stature, strength, age, the colour of his hair, his com
plexion, and of every incident in his life, real or supposed,
from his ascension into heaven down to the " washing of
his linen."
At the foot of the hill, on th^ borders of the Valley of
Jehoshaphat, beneath the Mount of Olives, we came to the
Garden of Gethsemane. Like the great battle-grounds
where kingdoms have been lost and won, the stubborn earth
bears no traces of the scenes that have passed upon its sur
face ; and a stranger might easily pass the Garden of Geth
semane without knowing it as the place where, on the
night on which he was betrayed, the Saviour waitched with
his disciples. It was enclosed by a low, broken stone fence,
and an Arab Fellah was quietly turning up the ground with
his spade. According to my measurement, the garden is
forty-seven paces long and forty-four wide. It contains
eight olive-trees, which the monks believe to have been
standing in the days of our Saviour, and to which a gentle
man, in whose knowledge I have confidence, ascribed an
age of more than eight hundred years. One of these, the

THE MOUNT OF OLIVES. 169
largestj barked and scarified by the knives of pilgrims, is
reverenced as the identical tree under which Christ was
betrayed ; and its enormous roots, growing high out of the
earth, could induce a belief of almost any degree of anti
quity, A little outside the fence of the garden is a stone,
reverenced as marking the hallowed place where Christ, in
the agony of his spirit, prayed that the cup might pass
from him ; a little farther, where he " sweat great drops of
blood ;" and a little farther is the spot to which he returned,
and found the disciples sleeping ; and no good pilgrim ever
passes from the Garden of Gethsemane to the Mount of
Olives without doing reverence in these holy places.
In company with a long procession of pilgrims, who had
been assembling in the garden, we ascended the Mount of
Olives. The mount consists of a range of four mountains,
with summits of unequal altitudes. The highest rises from
the Garden of Gethsemane, and is the one fixed upon as the
place of our Saviour's ascension. About half way up is a
ruined monastery, built, according to the monks, over the
spot where Jesus sat down and wept over the city and ut
tered that prediction which has since been so fearfiflly
verified. The olive still maintains its place on its native
mountain, and now grows spontaneously upon its top and
sides, as in the days of David and our Saviour. In a few
moments we reached the summit, the view from which em
braces, perhaps, more interesting objects than any other in
the world ; the Valley of Jehoshaphat, the Garden of Geth
semane, and the city of Jerusalem, the Plains of Jericho,
the valley of the Jordan, and the Dead Sea.
On the top of the mountain is a miserable Arab village,
in the centre of which is a small octagonal building, erect
ed, it is said, over the spot from which our Saviour ascend
ed into heaven ; and the print of his foot, say the monks, is
still to be seen. This print is in the rock, enclosed by an
oblong border of marble ; and pilgrims may at any time be
Vol. II.— P

170 INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL
seen taking, in wax, impressions of the holy footstep ; and
for this, too, they are indebted to the research and bounty
of the Empress Helena.
Descending again to the ruined monastery, at the place
where our Saviour, more than eighteen hundred years ago,
wept over the city and predicted its eternal ruin, I sat down
on a rough stone to survey and muse over the favoured and
fallen Jerusalem. The whole city lay extended before me
like a map. I could see and distinguish the streets, and
the whole interior to the inner side of the farther wall ; and
oh ! how different from the city of our Saviour's love.
Though even then but a mere appendage of imperial Rome,
it retained the magnificent wonders of its Jewish kings,
and, pre-eminent even among the splendid fanes of heathen
worship, rose the proud temple of the great King Solomon.
Solomon and all his glory have departed; centuries ago
the great temple which he built, the " glory of the whole
earth," was a heap of ruins ; in the prophetic words of our
Saviour, not one stone was left upon another ; and, in the
wanton spirit of triumph, a conquering general drove his
plough over its site. For years its very site lay buried in
ruins, till the Saracen came with his terrible war-cry, " The
Koran or the sword ;" and the great mosque of Omar, the
holy of holies in the eyes of all true believers, now rears
its lofty dome upon the foundations of the Temple of Sol
omon. From the place where I sat, the mosque of Omar was the
only object that relieved the general dulness of the city, and
all the rest was dark, monotonous, and gloomy ; no spires
reared their tapering points to the skies, nor domes, nor
minarets, the pride and ornament of other Turkish cities.
All was as still as death ; and the only sign of life that
I could see was the straggling figure of a Mussulman, with
his slippers in his hand, stealing up the long courtyard to
the threshold of the mosque. The mosque of Omar, like

THE FOUR GREAT TOMBS. ITl
the great mosque at Mecca, the birthplace of the Prophet,
is regarded with far more veneration than even that of St.
Sophia, or any other edifice of the Mohararaedan worship ;
and to this day the Koran or the sword is the doom of any
bold intruder within its sacred precincts. At the northern
extremity of the mosque is the Golden Gate, for many
years closed, and flanked with a tower, in which a Mus
sulman soldier is constantly on guard ; for the Turks be
lieve that, by that gate, the Christians will one day enter
and obtain possession of the city — City of mystery and
wonder, and still to be the scene of miracles ! " It shall
be trodden down by the Gentiles until the time of the
Gentiles be fulfilled ;" and the time shall come when the
crescent shall no longer glitter over its battlements, nor the
banner of the Prophet wave over its walls.
Returning to the Valley of Jehoshaphat, and passing along
its eastern side, we came to the great burying-ground of
the Jews. Among its monuments are four, unique in their
appearance and construction, and known from time imme
morial as the tombs of Absalom, Jehoshaphat, St. James,
and the Prophet Zachariah. All are cut out of the solid
rock ; the tomb of Absalom is a single stone, as large as
an ordinary two-story house, and ornamented with twenty-
four serai-columns of the Doric order, supporting a triangu
lar pyramidal top. The top is battered and defaced ; and
no pilgrim, whether Jew or Christian, ever passes through
the Valley of Jehoshaphat without casting a stone at the
sepulchre of the rebellious son. No entrance to this sep
ulchre has ever been discovered ; and the only way of
getting into the interior is by a hole broken for the purpose
in one of the sides.
Behind the tomb of Absalom is that of Jehoshaphat, "the
King of Judah, who walked in the ways of the Lord." It
is an excavation in the rock, the' door being its only orna-
' ment. Ths interior was damp, the water trickling from

172 INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL.
the walls, and nearly filled with sand and crumbling stones.
The next is the tomb of St. James, standing out boldly in
the side of the mountain, with a handsome portico of four
columns in front, an entrance at the side, and many cham
bers within. After this is the tomb of Zachariah, like that
of Absalom, hewn out of the solid rock ; and like that, too,
having no known entrance. Notw^ithstanding the specific
names given to these tombs, it is altogether uncertain to
what age they belong ; and it is generally considered that
the style of architecture precludes the supposition that they
are the work of Jewish builders.
Leaving them after a cursory examination, we descended
the valley ; and, following the now dry bed of the Kedron,
we came to " Siloa's Brook, that fiowed fast by the oracle
of God," which, coming from the foot of Mount Zion; here
presents itself as a beautiful stream, and runs winding and
murmuring through the valley. Hundreds of pilgrims were
stretched on its bank ; and a little above is the sacred pool
issuing from the rock, enclosed by stone walls, with a de
scent by two flights of steps. " Go wash in the Pool of
Siloam," said Christ lo the man who was born blind ; and,
like myself, a number of pilgrims were now bending over
the pool and washing in its hallowed waters. Passing by
the great tree under which the Prophet Isaiah was sawed
asunder, I turned up towards the city, and in a few minutes
was standing on Mount Zion,

THE FIELD OF BLOOD. 173

CHAPTER XIL
The Field of Blood.— A Traveller's Complunent. — Singular Ceremony. —
A Ragged Rascal. — Ostentatious Humility. — Pride must have a Fall. —
An Ancient Relic. — Summary Legislation.
All that is interesting about Jerusalem may be seen in
a few days. My health compelled me to remain there
more than three weeks, during which I made two excursions,
one to the ancient city of Joppa, and the other to the Dead
Sea. As soon as I could do so, however, I visited all the
places, to see which is the business of a pilgrim to the
holy city. The fourth morning after my arrival I went out
at the Bethlehem Gate, and, crossing the valley of the sons of
Hinmon, on the side of the opposite mountain I came to
the Aceldama, or field of blood, the field bought with " the
thirty pieces of silver," which to this day remains a public
burying-place or potter's field. A large chamber excava
ted in the rock is still the charnel-house of the poor and
imhonoured dead of Jerusalem. The fabulous account is,
that the earth of that field will in forty-eight hours consume
the flesh from off the bones committed to it.
Leaving this resting-place of poverty and perhaps of
crime, I wandered among the tombs on the sides of the
mountain ; tombs ornamented with sculpture, and divided
into chambers, the last abodes of the great and rich of
Jerusalem ; but the beggar, rudely thrown into the common
pit in the potter's field, and the rich man laid by pious
hands in the sculptured sepulchre of his ancestors, are
alike nothing.
Outside the Damascus Gate, and about half a mile dis-
P2

174 INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL.
tant, is what is called the Sepulchre of the Kings of Judah.
This sepulchre is hewn out of the rock, and has in front a
large square excavation, the entrance to which is under a
small arch. To the left, on entering, is a large portico,
nine paces long and four wide, with an architrave, on which
are sculptured fruit and flowers, much defaced ; and at the
end, on the left, a hole, filled up with stones and rubbish,
barely large enough to enable one to crawl through on hands
arid knees, leads to a chamber eight paces square ; and
from this chamber there are three doors, two directly op
posite and one to the right. Entering that to the right, we
found ourselves in another chamber, on each of the three
sides of which was a large door, with smaller ones on
either side, opening to small receptacles, in each of which
were places for three bodies. The door of this chamber,
now lying on the floor, was a curious work. It had been
cut from the solid rock, and made to turn on its hinges or
sockets without having ever been removed from its place.
On the right, a single door leads down several steps into a
dark chamber, where we found the lid of a sarcophagus
elegantly carved. The other doors opening from the great
chamber lead to others inferior in size and workmanship.
On coming out of one of them, at the very moment when I
extinguished my light, the hole of entrance was suddenly
darkened and stopped up, I had left a strange Arab at the
door ; and remembering the fearful thought that had often
come over me while creeping among the tonibs in Egypt,
of being shut up and entombed alive, my flrst impulse was
to curse my folly in coming into such a place, and leaving
myself so completely in the power of a stranger. But I
was .taking the alarm too soon. It. was only the Arab him--
self «0Hdng in. He, too, had his apprehensions ; and, from
my remaining so long within, began to fear that I had
crawled out some b^jk: w,ayj and given his bucksheesh the
slip.

A traveller's COMPLIMENT. 175
But enough of the tombs. I leave the abodes of the dead
and turn to the living ; and among the living in Jerusalem
there are few who live better than the monks. Chateau
briand, in his poetical description of his pilgrimage to the
Holy Land, gives an exceeding interest to the character of
these monks. " Here reside," said he, " communities of
Christian monks whom nothing can compel to forsake the
tomb of Christ ; neither plunder, nor personal ill treatment,
nor menaces of death itself. Night and day they chant
their hymns around the holy sepulchre. Driven by the
cudgel and the sabre, women, children, flocks, and herds, seek
refuge in the cloisters of these recluses. What prevents
the armed oppressor from pursuing his prey, and overthrow
ing such feeble ramparts ? the charity of the monks. They
deprive themselves of the last resources of life to ransom
their suppliants," &c.
The first glance at the well-fed superior of the convent
of Jerusalem dispelled in my mind aU such poetic illusions,
though the beautiful rhapsody was fully appreciated by
those of whom it was uttered. On my first interview with
the superior, an old monk entered the room who was in the
convent at the time of the visit of Chateaubriand, and both
said that they had read the accounts of several travellers
in the Holy Land, and none could be compared with his.
I do not mean to speak harshly of them personally, for they
were my hosts, and every Eastern traveller knows the
comfort of a cell in a convent compared with any other
shelter he can find in the Holy Land. Particularly I would
not speak harshly of the superior of the convent at Jerusalem,
towards whom I have an exceedingly kind feeling, and with
whom I was on terms of rather jocose intimacy. The
second time I saw him he railed at me with much good-
natured indignation for having taken off two or three inches
of my beard ; and, during the whole time I was in Jerusa
lem, I was in the habit of calling upon him almost every

176 INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL.
day. I owe him something, too, on Paul's aecoimt, for he
did that worthy man of all work a most especial honour.
Since our arrival at the convent, Paul had returned to the
essence of his Catholic faith, to wit, the strict observance
of its forms. In the desert he had often grumbled at being
obliged to go without animal food ; but no sooner did he
come within the odour of burning incense, than he felt the
enormity of ever having entertained so impious a thought,
and set himself down like a martyr to the table of the con
vent. He was, in his way, an epicure ; and it used to
amuse me, while playing before him the breast of a chicken,
to see him turn his eyes wistfully towards me, and choke
himself upon pulse and beans. He went through it all,
however, though with a bad grace ; and his piety was not
lost upon the superior, who sent for him a few mornings
after our arrival, and told him that a grand ceremony of
washing the feet of the disciples was to take place in the
chapel, and desired him to officiate as one of them. It was
amusing to see Paul's altered manner on his return. With
a dignity, and, at the same time, a respect, which he seemed
all at once to have acquired from his clear understanding
of his relative duties, he asked me whether I could spare
him the next afternoon, stating the reason and the honour
the superior had done him. I told him, of course, that I
would not interfere with his playing such an important part ;
and as it would be a new character for him to appear in, I
should like to be present at the representation. The next
day he came to me with his coat buttoned tight across his
breast, his boots polished, and hat smoothed to a hair, and
told me, with great gravity, that the superior had sent me
his particular compliments, and an invitation to be present
at the ceremony ; and turning away, he remarked, with an
air of nonchalance, that a Sicilian priest, who had just left
me, and who was arranging to accompany me to the Dead
Sea, was to be one of his associates in the ceremony.

A RAGGED RASCAL. 177
Paul was evidently very much lifted up ; he was con
stantly telling Elias, the cook of the convent, that he wanted
such and such a thing for to-morrow afternoon ; begging me
not to make any engagement for to-morrow afternoon ; and,
in due season, to-morrow afternoon came. I entered my
room a little before the time, and found him at rehearsal,
with a large tub of water before him, prudently washing his
feet beforehand. I was a ^ood deal disposed to bring down
his dignity, and told him that it was well enough to rehearse
his part, but that he ought to leave at least one foot un
washed, as a sort of bonus for his friend the superior.
Paul was a good deal scandalized at my levity of manner,
and got out of my reach as soon as he could. Afterward,
however, I saw him in one of the corridors, talking with
the Sicilian with a greater accession of dignity than ever.
I saw him again in the chapel of the convent, standing in
line with his associates ; and, excepting him, the Sicilian
priest, and one monk, who was put in to fill up, I never saw
a set of harder-looking scoundrels.
This ceremony of washing the feet of the disciples, in
tended by our Saviour as a beautiful lesson of humility, is
performed from year to year, ostensibly to teach the same
lesson ; and in this case the humility of the superior was
exalted shamefully at the expense of the disciples. Most
of the twelve would have come under the meaning, though
inexplicable, term of " loafer ;" but one, a vagrant Pole,
was, beyond all peradventure, the greatest blackguard I ever
saw. A black muslin frock-coat, dirty and glossy from long
use, buttoned tiglit across the breast, and reaching down to
his ancles, and an old fpxy, low-crowned hat, too big for
him, and almost covering his eyes and ears, formed his en
tire dress, for he had no trousers, shoes, or shirt ; he was
snub-nosed, pock-marked, and sore-eyed ; wore a long
beard, and probably could not remember the last time he
had washed his face ; thinH, then, of his £eef, If Paul had

178 INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL.
been dignified, he was puffed up almost to bursting ; and the
self-complacency with which he looked upon himself and
all around him was admirable beyond description. By great
good fortune for my designs against Paul, the Pole stood
next and before him in the line of the quasi disciples ; and
it was refreshing to turn from the consequential and com
placent air of the one to the crestfallen look of the other ;
and to see him, the moment he caught my eye, with a sud
denness that made me laugh, turn his head to the other
side ; but he had hardly got it there before he found me on
that side too ; and so I kept him watching and dodging, and
in a perpetual fidget. To add to his mortification, the Pole
seemed to take particularly to hira ; and as he was before
him in the line, was constantly turning round and speaking
to him with a patronising air ; and I capped the climax of
his agony by going up in a quiet way, and asking him who
was the gentleman before him. I could see him wince, and
for a moment I thought of letting him alone ; but he was
often on stilts, and I seldom had such an opportunity of
pulling him down. Besides, it was so ludicrous, I could
not help it. If I had had any one with me to share the
joke, it would have been exquisite. As it was, when I saw
his determination to dodge me, I neglected everything else,
and devpted myself entirely to him ; and, let the poor fel
low turn where he would, he was sure to find me leaning
against a pillar, with a smile on my face and my eyes in
tently fixed upon him ; occasionally I would go up and ask
him some questiori,about his friend before him ; and finally,
as if I could not joke about it any more, and felt on my own
account the indignity offered to him, I told him that, if I
were he,^ I would not stand it any longer ; that I was
ashamed to see him with such a pack of rascals ; that they
had made a cat's-paw of him, and advised him to run for it;
saying that I would .stand by him against a bull from the
pope. He now spoke for the first time, and, told roe that he

OSTENTATIOUS HUMILITY. 179
had been thinking of the same thing ; and, by degrees, ac
tually worked himself up to the desperate pitch of incurring
the hazard of excommunication, if it must needs be so, and
had his shoes and stockings in his hands ready for a start,
when I brought him down again by telling him it would
soon be over ; and, though he had been shamefully treated,
that he might cut the gentleman next to him whenever he
pleased. After goading him as long as he could possibly bear, I
left him to observe the ceremony. At the upper end of the
chapel, placed there for the occasion, was a large chair,
with a gilded frame and velvet back and cushion, intended as
the seat of the nominal disciple. Before it was a large cop
per vase, filled with water, and a plentiful sprinkling of
rose-leaves ; and before that, a large red velvet cushion, on
which the superior kneeled to perform the office of lavation.
I need not suggest how inconsistent was this display of
gold, rose-water, and velvet, with the humble scene it was
intended to represent ; but the tinsel and show imposed
upon the eyes for which they were intended.
One after the other the disciples came up, seated them
selves in the chair, and put their feet in the copper vase.
The superior kneeled upon the cushion, with both his hands
washed the right foot, wiped it with a clean towel, kissed
it, and then held it in his hands to receive the kisses of the
monks, and of all volunteers that offered. All went on
well enough until it came to the turn of Paul's friend and
forerunner, the doughty Pole. There was a general titter
as he took his place in the chair ; and I saw the superior
and the monk who assisted him hold down their heads and
laugh almost convulsively. The Pole seemed to be con
scious that he was creating a sensation, and that all eyes
were upon hira, and sat with his arras folded, with an ease
and self-complacency altogether indescribable, looking down
in the vase, and turning his foot in the superior's hands,

180 INCIDENTS OP I-RAVEL*
heel up; toe up, so as to facilitate the process ; and when
the superior had washed and kissed it, and was holding
it up for others to kiss, he looked about him with all the
grandeur of a monarch in the act of coronation. Keep
ing his arms folded, he fairly threw himself back into the
huge chair, looking from his foot to the monks, and from
the monks to his foot again, as one to whom the world had
nothing more to offer. It was more than a minute before
any one would venture upon the perilous task of kissing
those very suspicious toes, and the monk who was assisting
the superior had to go round and drum them up ; though he
had already kissed it once in the way of his particular duty,
to set an example he kissed it a second time ; and now, as
if ashamed of their backwardness, two or three rushed for
ward at once ; and, the ice once broken, the effect seemed
electric, and there was a greater rush to kiss his foot than
there had been to any of the others.
It was almost too hard to follow Paul after this display.
I ought to have spared him, but I could not. His mortifi
cation was in proportion to his predecessor's pride. He
was sneaking up to the chair, when, startled by some noise,
he raised his head, and caught the eye which, above all
others, he would have avoided. A broad laugh was on my
face ; and poor Paul was so discomfited that he stumbled,
and canie near pitching headlong into the vase. I could
not catch his eye again ; he seemed to have resigned him
self to the worst. 1 followed him round in the procession,
as he thrice oiade the tour of the chapel and corridors, with
a long lighted candle in his hand ; and then we went down
to the superior's room, where the monks, the superior, the
twelve, and myself, were entertained with coffee. As the
Pole, who had lagged behind, entered after we were all
seated; the superior, with the humour of a good fellow, cried
out, "Viva Polacca;" all broke out into a loud laugh, and
Paul escaped in the midst of it. About an hour afterward

CONDITION OF THE JEWS. 181
1 met him outside the Damascus Gate. Even then he
would have shunned me ; but I called hira, and, to his great
relief, neither then nor at any other time referred to the
washing of the feet of the disciples.

The reader may remember the kindness with Which I
had been received by the chief rabbi at Hebron. His kind
ness did not end there ; a few days after my arrival, the
chief rabbi of Jerusalem, the high-priest of the Jews in the
city of their ancient kings, called upon me, accompanied
by a Gibraltar Jew who spoke English, and who told me
that they had come at the request of my friend in Hebron,
to receive and welcome me in the city of their fathers. I
had already seen a great deal of the Jews. I had seen
them in the cities of Italy, everywhere more or less op-^
pressed ; at Rome, shut up every night in their miserable
quarters as if they were noxious beasts ; in Turkey, perse-.
cuted and oppressed ; along the shores of the Black Sea and
in the heart of Russia, looked down upon by the serfs of
that great empire of vassalage ; and, for the climax of mis
ery, I had seen them contemned and spit upon even by the
ignorant and enslaved boors of Poland. 1 had seen them
scattered abroad among all nations, as it had been foretold
they would be, everywhere a separate arid peculiar people ;
and everywhere, under all poverty, wretchedness, and op
pression, waiting for, and anxiously expecting, the coming
of a Messiah, to call together their scattered tribes, and re
store them to the kingdom of their fathers ; and all this the
better fitted me for the more interesting spectacle of the
Jews in the holy city. In all changes and revolutions, from
the day when the kingdom of Solomon passed into the
hands of strangers, under the Assyrian, the Roman, the
Arab, and the Turk, a remnant of that once-favoured people
has always hovered around the holy city ; and now, as in
the days of David, old men may be seen at the foot of
Vol. II.— Q

182 INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL.
Mount Zion, teaching their children to read from that mys
terious book on which they have ever fondly built their
hopes of a temporal and eternal kingdom.
The friends made for me by the rabbi at Hebron were
the very friends above all others whom I would have se
lected for myself. While the Christians were preparing
for the religious ceremonies of Easter, the Jews were ma
king ready for the great feast of the Passover ; and one of
the first offers of kindness they made me, was an invitation
to wait and partake of it with them. The rabbi was an old
•man, nearly seventy, with a long white beard, and Aaron
himself need not have been ashamed of such a represent
ative. I would have preferred to attach myself particu
larly to him ; but, as I could speak neither Arabic nor
Hebrew, and the English Jew was not willing to play sec
ond, and serve merely as interpreter, I had but little bene
fit of the old man's society.
The Jews are the best topographers in Jerusalem, al
though their authority ends where the great interest of the
city begins ; for, as their fathers did before them, they deny
the name of Christ, and know nothing of the holy places so
anxiously sought for by the Christians. That same morn
ing they took me to what they call a part of the wall of Sol
omon's temple. It forms part of the southern wall of the
mosque of Omar, and is evidently older than the rest, the
stones being much larger, measuring nine or ten feet long ;
and I saw that day, as other travellers may still see every
Friday in the year, all the Jews in Jerusalem clothed in
their best raiment, winding, through the narrow streets of
their quarter ; and under this hallowed wall, with the sa
cred volume in their hands, singing, in the language in which
they were written, the Songs of Solomon and the Psalms
of David. White-bearded old men and smooth-cheeked
boys were leaning over the same book ; and Jewish maid
ens, in their long white robes, were standing with their
faces against the wall, and praying through cracks and

A PROCLAMATION. 183
crevices. The tradition which leads them to pray through
this wall is, that during the building of the temple a cloud
rested over it so as to prevent any entrance ; and Solomon
stood at the door, and prayed that the cloud might be re
moved, and promised that the temple should be always open
to men of every nation desiring to offer up prayers ; where
upon the Lord removed the cloud, and promised that the
prayers of all people offered up in that place should find
acceptance in his sight ; and now, as the Mussulman lords
it over the place where the temple stood, and the Jews are
not permitted to enter, they endeavour to insinuate their
prayers through the crevices in the wall, that thus they
may rise from the interior to the Throne of Grace. The
tradition is characteristic, and serves to illustrate the de
voted constancy with which the Israelites adhere to the ex
ternals of their faith.
Returning to the convent, and passing through one of the
bazars, we saw an Arab mounted on a bench, and making a
proclamation to the crowd around him ; and my friend, the
Gibraltar Jew, was immediately among them, listening earn
estly. The subject was one that touched his tenderest sen
sibilities as a dealer in money ; for the edict proclaimed was
one changing the value of the current coin, reducing the tallah-
ree or dollar frora twenty-one to twenty piasters, commanding
all the subjects of Mohamraed Aly to take it at that value,
and concluding with the usual finale of a Turkish procla
mation, " Death to the offender.'' My Jew, as he had al
ready told me several times, was the richest Israelite in
Jerusalem, and consequently took a great interest in every
thing that related to money. He told me that he always culti
vated an intimacy with the officer of the mint ; and, by giving
hira an occasional present, he always got intimation of any
intended change in time to save himself. We parted at
the door of the convent, having arranged that I should go
with him the next day to the synagogue, and afterward dine
at his house.

184 INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL.

CHAPTER XIII.
The Synagogue. — Ideal Speculation. — A Ride in the Rain. — An Ex-official.
— Joppa. — A Moral Phenomenon.— Reverence for the Grave.
About nine o'clock the next morning I was with him,
and in a few moments we were sitting in the highest seats
in the synagogue, at the foot of Mount Zion. My old friend
the rabbi was in the desk, reading to a small remnant of
the Israelites the same law which had been read to their
fathers on the same spot ever since they came up out of the
land of Egypt. And there they sat, where their fathers
had sat before them, with high, black, square-topped caps,
with shawls wound around, crossed in front, and laid very
neatly ; long gowns fastened with a sash, and long beards,
the feeble remnant of a mighty people ; there was sternness
in their faces, but in their hearts a spirit of patient endu
rance, and a firm and settled resolution to die and be buried
under the shadow of their fallen temple.
By the Jewish law the men and women sit apart in the
synagogues ; and, as 1 could not understand the words of
exhortation which fell from the lips of the preacher, it was
not altogether unnatural that I should turn frora the rough-
bearded sons of Abrahara to the sraooth faces of their wives
and daughters. Since I left Europe, I had not been in an
apartment where the women sat with their faces uncovered ;
and, under these circumstances, it is not surprising that I
saw many a dark-eyed Jewess who appeared well worthy
of my gaze ; and it is not a vain boast to say, that while
singing the songs of Solomon, many a Hebrew maiden
turned her bright black orbs upon me ; for, in the first place.

A GIBRALTAR JEW. 185
on entering we had disturbed more than a hundred sitting
on the steps ; secondly, my original dress, half Turk, half
Frank, attracted the eyes even of the men ; and, thirdly,
the alleged universal failing of the sex is not wanting among
the daughters of Judah.
The service over, we stopped a moment to look at the
synagogue, which was a new building, with nothing about
it that was peculiar or interesting. It had no gold or silver
ornaments ; and the sacred scroll, the table of the Law,
contained in the holy of holies, was all that the pride of the
Jew could show. My friend, however, did not put his own
light under a bushel ; for, telling me the amount he had
himself contributed to the building, he conducted me to a
room built at his own expense for a schoolroom, with a
stone in the front wall recording his name and generosity.
We then returned to his house ; and, being about to sit
down to dinner with him, I ought to introduce him more
particularly to the reader. He was a man about fifty-five,
born in Gibraltar to the same abject poverty which is the
lot of most of his nation. In his youth he had been fortu
nate in his little dealings, and had been what we call an
enterprising man ; for he had twice made a voyage to Eng
land, and was so successful, and liked the country so much,
that he always called himself an Englishman. Having ac
cumulated a little property, or, as he expressed it, having
become very rich, he gratified the darling wish of his heart
by coming to Jerusalem, to die and be buried with his fa
thers in the Valley of Jehoshaphat. But this holy purpose
in regard to his death and burial did not make him under
value the importance of life, and the advantages of being a
great man now. He told me that he was rich, very rich ;
that he was the richest, and in fact, the only rich Jew in
Jerusalem. He took me through his house, and showed
me his gold and silver ornaments, and talked of his money
and the uses he made of it ; that he lent to the Latin Con-
Q2

186 INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL.
vent on inhere**, without any security, whenever they wanted ;
but as for the Greeks — he laughed, laid his finger on his
nose, and said he had in pledge jewels belonging to "them
of the value of more than twenty thousand dollars. He had
had his losses too ; and while we were enjoying the luxu
ries of his table, the leaven of his nature broke out, and he
endeavoured to sell me a note for fifteen hundred pounds,
of the Lady Esther Stanhope, which he offered at a dis
count of fifty per cent. ; a bargain which I declined, as being
out of the line of my business.
I remember once the American fever came upon me in
Athens ; when, sitting among the ruins of the Acropolis,
upon a broken column of the Parthenon, I speculated upon
the growth of the city. I bought, in imagination, a piece
of ground, and laid it out in lots, lithographed, and hand
somely painted red, blue, and white, like the maps of Chi
cago, Dunkirk, and Hinsdale ; built up the ancient harbour
of the Piraeus, and ran a railroad to the foot of the Acropo
lis ; and I leaned , my head upon my hand, and calculated
the immense increase in value that must attend the building
of the king's new palace, and the erection of a royal resi
dence on the site of Plato's academy. I have since re
gretted that I did not "go in" for some up-town lots in
Athens ; but I have never regretted not having shaved the
note of the Queen of the East, in the hands of the richest
Jew in Jerusalem.
It was Saturday, the Jewish Sabbath. The command to
do no work on the Sabbath day is observed by every Jew, as
strictly as when the commandment was given to his fathers ;
and to sucL an extent was it obeyed in the house of my
friend, that it was not considered allowable to extinguish a
lamp which had been lighted the night before, and was now
burning in broad daylight over our table. This extremely
strict observance of the law at first gave me some uneasir
ness about my dinner ; but my host, with great self'Compl^

JEWISH MARRIAGE CUSTOMS. 187
cency, relieved me from all apprehensions, by describing
the admirable contrivance he had invented for reconciling ap
petite and duty — an oven, heated the night before to such a
degree that the process of cooking was continued during the
night, and the dishes were ready when wanted the next day.
I must not forget the Jew's family, which consisted of a sec
ond wife, about sixteen, already the mother of two children,
and his son and son's wife, the husband twelve, and the
wife ten years old. The little gentleman was at the table,
and behaved very well, except that his father had to check
him in eating sweetmeats. The lady was playing on the
floor with other children, and 1 did with her what I could
not have done with a bigger man's wife — I took her on my
knee and kissed her. Among the Jews, matches are made
by the parents ; and, immediately upon the marriage, the
wife is brought into the household of the husband. A young
gentleman was tumbling about the floor who was engaged
to the daughter of the chief rabbi. I did not ask the age
of the lady, of course ; but the gentleman bore the heavy
burden of three years. He had not yet learned to whisper
the story of his love to his blushing mistress, for, in fact, he
could not talk at all ; he was a great bawling boy, and cared
much more for his bread and butter than a wife ; but his
prudent father had already provided him.
On the morning of the twenty-first I set out for Jaffa,
the ancient Joppa. It was a bright and beautiful morning
when I left the Bethlehem Gate ; but, before I had been an
hour on my way, it began to rain, and continued nearly the
whole day. About three hours from Jerusalem we came
to the village of Abougos, the chief of the most powerful
families of Fellahs in the Holy Land. Nearly all his life
he had been more or less in arms against the government ;
and his name was known among all the Christians in the
East as the robber of the pilgrims to the Holy Sepulchre. I
had met and spoken with him outside of the walls of Jeru'

188 INCIDENTS OP TRAVEL.
salem, and during the rain, as I approached his village, I
determined to stop and throw myself upon his hospitality for
the night ; but the returning sunshine deceived me, and I
passed on, admiring the appearance of his village, which
had much the best of any I had seen in the Holy Land.
About an hour afterward I was repenting, under a merciless
rain, that I had not fulfilled my purpose. Riding three
hours longer, stopping from time to time under a rock or
tree, I was ascending the last range of mountains ; before
me were the fertile plains of Sharon ; and across the plain,
still at a great distance, was Ramla, the ancient Ariraathea,
the city of " Joseph the counsellor, the good man, and just."
To the right, bordering the sea, was the range of Mount
Carmel ; but the rain was pelting in my eyes so that I
could see nothing of it. I had been eight hours on the back
of one of the most stubborn mules that ever persisted in
having their own way ; toiling with all my might, with
blows and kicks, but finding it impossible to make him
move one step faster than he pleased ; and when the tower,
the mosque, and the minaret of Ramla were before me, at
the other side of a level plain, and an hour's smart riding
would have carried me there, I was completely worn out
with urging the obstinate brute ; and with muttered threats of
future vengeance, wound my cloak around me, and hauling
my umbrella close down, and grinding my teeth, I tried to
think myself resigned to my fate. A strong wind was dri
ving the rain directly in my face, and my mule, my cursed
mule, stopped moving when I stopped beating ; and, in the
very hardest of the storm, when I would have rushed like
a bird on the wing, turned off from the path, and fell quietly
to browsing on the grass. Afraid to disarrange my um
brella and cloak, I sat for a moment irresolute ; but the
brute turned his face round, and looked at rae with such
perfect nonchalance, that I could not stand it. I raised my
club for a blow ; the wind opened my cloak in front, puffing

AN EX-OFFlCIAL. 189
it out like a sail ; caught under my umbrella, and turned it
inside out ; and the mule suddenly starting, under a deluge
of rain I found myself planted in the mud on the plains of
Sharon. An hour afterward I was drying my clothes in the
house of our consular agent at Ramla. There was no fire
place in the room ; but 1 was hovering over a brazier of
burning charcoal. I spent that night and all the next day
in Ramla, although a quarter of an hour would have been
sufficient to see all that it contained, which was simply no
thing more than is to be found in any other village. The
consul gave me a dry coverlet ; and while some of his
friends came in to look at and welcome the stranger, I laid
myself down upon the divan and went to sleep.
¦ The next morning I was unable to move ; the fatigue,
and particularly the rain of the preceding day, had been too
much for me, and I remained all the morning in an up-stairs
room, with a high ceiling and a stone floor, lying on a rug
in one corner, cold, desponding, and miserable. In the af
ternoon I went down into the large room, to talk with the
consular agent. But a year before he had flourishe'l in all
the pomp and pride of office. The arms of our coi.intry
were blazoned over his door, and the stars and stiiptj.'^ had
protected his dwelling ; but a change had come ovei him.
The Viceroy of Syria had ordered the flags of the consuls
to be taken down at Ramla, and forbidden any of his sub
jects to hold the office except in the seaport towns. I could
not help thinking that he was perfectly right, as it was
merely allowing them the benefit of a foreign protection, to
save them and their families, with two or three janizaries,
frora their duties to himself; but 1 listened attentively to
the complaints of the poor agent. His digiiity tj:<,d been
touched, and his pride humbled in the eyes of is. towns
men ; for the governor had demanded the usuai d\i'Y from
his sons, and had sent his executive officers with t'iS sum
mary order, the duty or the bastinado. The ¦\]':m{ pwed

190 INCIDENTS OP TRAVEL.
his appointment to Commodore Patterson; and talked of
him and Captain Nicholson as friends who would see jus
tice done him if he could communicate with them. I was
afterward struck with a display of delicacy and a sense ot
propriety that 1 had not expected from him ; for, although
he charged me with many messages to Commodore Patter
son, he requested me not to mention his difficulties in the
matter of the agency, as he had already made representa
tions to the consul at Beyroot, who had laid them before
Commodore Porter at Constantinople ; and an application
in another quarter would look like distrusting their ability,
or their willingness to resent, what he called an indignity
offered to the American fiag. Annoyed at seeing the wo
men dodging by, with their faces covered, and always
avoiding me, I told him that, being a Christian and holding
an appointment under our government, he ought to conform
to our customs, and treat his women more as companions ;
or, at least, to let them come into the same room, and sit
at the same table with him. He listened, but could not see
any reason in my proposition. He said it might do for us ;
for wiih us the wives always brought their husbands money
(the ignoiant, uninformed barbarian), but in Syria (he sighed
as he said it) they never added a para to the riches of their
lords. The next morning I set out again for Jaffa. The road
lies through a rich plain ; and in three hours, passing a
large detachment of Turkish soldiers, encamped outside,
and waiting a transport to carry them to Alexandria, I was
entering the gate of the ancient city of Joppa. Believed to
have existed before the deluge, the city where Noah dwelt
and built his ark; whence Jonah embarked for Tarsbish,
when he w as thrown overboard and swallowed by a whale ;
the port used by Solomon to receive timber frora Tyre for
the build-ng of the teraple, and by all the kings of Judah to
connect t.i6 city of Jerusalem with foreign people, Jaffa is

JOPPA. 191
now a small Turkish town on the shores of the Mediterra
nean, built on a little eminence projecting into the sea, and
containing a population of from ten to fifteen thousand
Turks, Arabs, Jews, and Christians. It has a fine climate,
and a fine country around it ; and the orange-gardens are
the finest on the shores of the Mediterranean. Although
the seaport of Jerusalem, its harbour has always been bad ;
and when I was there the wreck of a Turkish man-of-war
was lying on the beach ; and that same night, there being
a severe storm, the little Greek pilgrim vessels were con
sidered in great danger.
There is nothing of interest in the modem city of Jaffa.
Its history is connected with the past. The traveller must
stand on the shore, and fill the little harbour with the ships
of Tarsbish, or imagine Noah entering the ark with his
family, by whom the earth was to be repeopled ; or wander
through the narrow streets and ask himself, Where is the
house of Tabitha, whom Peter " raised from the dead 1" or
that of Simon the tanner, where Peter " tarried many days 1"
and he may feel a less holy, but hardly less powerful inter
est, in standing by the gate where, for many years, a large
pyramid of sculls attested the desperate struggle of Napo
leon ; orj in walking through the chambers of the Greek
convent, then used as a hospital for the French, and the
monks will show him an apartment where, when all hearts
were sinking within them for fear, he visited and touched
the sick of the plague, restored the drooping courage of his
soldiers, and almost raised the dying from their bed of death.
Besides the interest attached to this place by reason of
its great antiquity, and the many important events of which
it has been the scene, I remember it with much kindness
on account of the American consular agent, and the cordial
manner in which he received me. He was not at home
when I arrived ; but in a few moments he came in, and, ta
king both my hands in his, pointed to the American arras

192 INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL.
on the wall, ordered the stars and stripes to be hoisted on
the top of his house, and, with all the extravagance of the
East, told me that all he had was mine. I had a great
mind to take him at his word, and begin by appropriating a
beautiful emerald that I saw on his finger ; but, for the pres
ent, I contented myself with asking merely for a dinner,
which was soon prepared ; and I sat down to dine in the
ancient city of Joppa, with my country's arms before me,
and my country's banner waving above.
The agent was an Armenian, and a strict observer of all
the requisitions of his exacting creed ; he was rich, and
had no children ; and, what I never before heard from the
lips of man, he said that he was perfectly happy. I was
the first American who had visited him since he had re
ceived his appointment ; and it seemed as if he could not
do enough for me. He had repaired and reconstructed the
whole road from Jaffa to Jerusalem ; and when I asked him
what reward he promised himself for this, he answered that
he had done it for God, the pilgrims, and his own honour.
I remained with him that night, and would have gone early
the next morning, but he would not part with me so soon ;
I dined with him again ; and in the afternoon, escorted to
the gate by two janizaries, each with a large silver-headed
mace in his hand, I left, probably for ever, my Armenian
friend and the ancient city of Joppa. I do not know when
I parted from a man with more regret.*
I slept that night at Ramla ; and the next day, about four
o'clock, in company with several hundred pilgrims, I was
again entering the Bethlehem Gate. Notwithstanding the
munificence of my Armenian friend, the road from Jerusalem
to Jaffa, a road travelled from the time when Jonas went
thither to embark for Tarsbish, is now a mere mule-path^
? The town of Jaffa has since been destroyed by an earthquake ; and of
fifteen thousand inhabitants, thirteen thousand were buried in the rains.
Has my Armenian friend escaped ? <

REVERENCE FOR THE GRAVE. 193
on which I was several times obliged to stop and turn aside
to let a loaded mule pass by.
I had seen everything in Jerusalem that it was the duty
of a traveller to see. My time was now my own, for idling,
lounging, or strolling, in the luxurious consciousness of
having nothing to do. In this humour I used to set forth
from the convent, never knowing where I should go or what
I should do ; and, whenever I went out with the deliberate
intention of doing nothing, I was always sure of finding
enough to occupy me. My favourite amusement in the
morning was to go out by St. Stephen's Gate, and watch
the pilgrims as they began their daily round of visits to the
holy places. Frequently, if I saw a group that interested
me, I followed them to the Garden of Gethsemane and the
Mount of Olives ; sometimes I stopped in the Valley of Je
hoshaphat, and, sitting down on the grave of an Israelite,
watched the Jewish pilgrims. One morning, I remember,
Paul and I were together ; and we saw a young girl kissing
the tomb of Zachariah, and weeping as if her heart would
break. Paul asked her, rather roughly, what she was cry
ing about ; and the poor girl, looking at hira for a moment,
burst into a flood of tears, and told him that she was weep
ing over the tomb of the blessed prophet.
But there are few things connected with my journeying
in the Holy Land which I look back upon with a more quiet
satisfaction than my often repeated and almost daily walk
around the walls of Jerusalem. It was a walk of between
three and four miles ; and I always contrived, about half an
hour before the gates were closed, to be sitting on a favour
ite tombstone near St. Stephen's Gate. The great Turkish
burying-ground is outside the wall, near this gate ; and
regularly, on a fine afternoon, towards sunset, the whole
Turkish population, in all their gay and striking costumes,
might be seen wandering among the tombs. Few things
strike a traveller in the East more than this, and few are to
Vol. n.— R

194 INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL.
US more inexplicable. We seldom go into a graveyard ex
cept to pay the last offices to a departed friend, and for
years afterward we never find ourselves in the same place
again without a shade of melancholy coming over us. Not
so in the East ; to-day they bury a friend, to-morrow they
plant flowers over his grave, and the next day, and the next,
they tend and water them, and once a week, regularly, they sit
by the grave. On every holyday it is a religious diity to go
there ; and as often as they walk out for health or pleas
ure, they habitually turn their footsteps to the burial-ground.
To them the grave is not clothed with the same terrors. It
is not so dark and gloomy as to us. They are firmer be
lievers than we are, though, as we think, in a false and fatal
creed ; and to them there is a light beyond the grave, which
we of a better faith, can seldom see. It was a beautiful
picture to behold the graveyard thronged with Turkish
women, in their long white veils. It would, perhaps, be
too poetical to look upon them all as mourners. Perhaps,
indeed, it would not be too much to say that, of the immense
multitude who, day after day, are seen fiitting among the
tombs, many a widowed fair one, over the tomb of a dead
lord, is dreaming of a living lover.
But there was one whom I noticed every day; she was
always sitting by the same stone, and I always noticed her
as one of the first to come out and one of the last to return.
She was a young Sciote girl, mourning over the tomb of
her young lord ; and well she might, fpr he had been to her
a friend and protector, and she had been his only bride.
When her father's house was laid in ruins, and her gray-
headed sire and her manly brothers were slain before her
eyes, he had saved her from the bloody cimeter, or from a
fate worse than death ; and he had wooed her, not as a
Turk and master, but as a lover. He had won her young
heart ; and she had forgotten her kindred and her country ;
he had died with his bloody cimeter in his hand, and she
thought only of the dead when she stood beside his grave.

DESERT OF ST. JOHN. 195

CHAPTER XIV.
Desert of St. John. — A Midnight Procession. — Road to Jericho. — A Com
munity of Women.- A Navigator of the Dead Sea.— A Dance by Moon
light. — A rude Lodging.
In corapany with Mr. Whiting, I started for the Desert of
St. John the Baptist. Passing the Pool of Gihon, where
Saul was anointed king by Zadoc and Nathan, we came to
the Convent of the Holy Cross, the great altar of the chapel
being erected, as the monks pretend, over the spot where
grew the tree from which the cross was made. Moving on
among hills and valleys, on our right was a distant view of
Ramah, the country of Samuel the seer ; and before us,
crowning the very top of a high hill, were the ruins of the
palace andthe burial-place of the warlike Maccabees. The
Convent of St. John is built on the spot where John the
Baptist was born. There is no doubt of this, say the monks ;
for beneath the great altar of the church is a circular slab
of marble, with an inscription almost effaced : " Hie natus
est precursor dei," here the forerunner of the Lord was
born. This convent is in a fine situation ; a small Chris
tian village is attached to it ; the top comraands a beautiful
view of the mountains, cultivated in terraces ; and directly
in front is the great Valley of Turpentine, or Elah, the bat
tle-ground of the Israelites and Philistines, of David and
Goliath. Taking a Christian boy with us as guide, we en
tered the valley ; and, following the stream to its source, in
about two hours we came to the place where, it is said,
Saul and the men of Israel pitched by the Valley of Elah,
end set the battle in array agauist the Philistines, It was

196 INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL.
precisely the .spot where the scene, so graphically recorded
in Scripture, raight have taken place. " 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 be
tween them." On each side of me was a mountain, and the
brook was still running near from which the shepherd-boy
gathered the five smooth stones. The boy who accompa
nied us told me that the precise stones had never yet been
found, though the monks had often searched for them.
At the extreme end of the valley is the Desert of St. John,
where was heard, for the first time, the voice of one crying
in the wilderness, " Prepare ye the way of the Lord ; make
his paths straight." Directly in front, at the top of the
mountain bounding the valley, is an open door in the rock,
leading to the grotto in which the prophet lived. There is
no appearance of a desert in this place, except solitude ;
and if it be merely a locality fixed upon by the monks, they
could not have selected one more inappropriate. It is one
of the prettiest and best cultivated spots in the Holy Land ;
and sitting in the door of the grotto, with an Armenian pil
grim by my side, and looking out upon the valley and the
mountains, all around terraced and cultivated to the very
sumraits, all still and beautiful, I thought I had never seen
a place better qualified to inspire a pious, philosophic, and
happy state of mind, than this Desert of St. John. We re
turned by a different road, searching on our way for the
pool where Philip baptized the eunuch of Queen Candace ;
but, after losing ourselves once or twice, and fearing a threat
ening shower, we returned to the city unsuccessful.
At about ten o'clock that evening, the monks, under a
guard of soldiers and a crowd of pilgrims, each with a can
dle in his hand, left St. Stephen's Gate in solemn proces
sion. With a loud chant they crossed the Valley of Je
hoshaphat, wound around the foot of the Mount of Olives to
Bethpage and Bethany, said mass in the tomb of Lazarus,

ROAD To JERICHO. 197
and returning, prayed and chanted on the Mount of Olives
and in the Garden of Gethsemane ; and at about daylight
the next morning returned to the convent.

For several days I had been preparing for a journey to
the Dead Sea ; but a mysterious influence seemed still to
hang about the borders of that water ; and now, when all
the rest of the Holy Land was perfectly tranquil, the Fel
lahs were in commotion among the barren mountains around
it. I had waited two or three days at the request of the
governor ; but, hearing of nothing in particular to prevent
rae, I determined to set out. The Sicilian priest who had
proposed to accompany me could not go ; and at about
eight o'clock I was sitting on my horse alone, outside the
St. Stephen's Gate, waiting for Paul, who had gone to the
governor for a letter which he had promised rae to the aga
of Jericho. Attracted by the uncommon beauty of the
morning, half the population of Jerusalem had already gath
ered without the walls. Joining a party of pilgrims, I fol
lowed once more the path I had so often trodden across the
Brook Kedron and the Valley of Jehoshaphat ; and, parting
with them at the foot of the Mount of Olives, I wound
around its base, and fell into the road to Jericho and the
Jordan. We mifst have passed Bethpage, though there is
nothing to mark where it stood ; and in about an hour we
came to Bethany, now a ruined Arab village, though the
monks still show the house of Martha and Mary, the tomb
of Lazarus, and even the barren fig-tree which was cursed
by our Lord. The tomb of Lazarus is a large excavation
in the rock ; and the sepulchral chamber is at the foot of a
staircase of ten or twelve steps.
Not far from Bethany we came to a fountain enclosed
with marble, and soon after to a valley, where, the monks
R2

198 INCIDENTS OF TBAVEL.
say, our Saviour, in. coming frora beyond the Jordan, at the
prayer of the sisters of Lazarus, reposed with the disciples.
In about two hours we were araong the mountains. The
scene every moment became wilder and more rugged ; and,
except in the wilderness of Sinai and among the wastes
of Idumea, I never travelled so dreary a road as in " going
down to Jericho." It is oh this desolate route that our
Saviour lays the scene of the parable of the good Saraari*
tan ; and nowhere could a more forcible illustration be giv
en of the heartlessness of the priest and the Levite, in
" passing by on the other side." Ascending for some dis
tance by the precipitous side of a yawning chasra, where a
false movement of my horse might have dashed me to at
oms, from the top of the Mountains of Desolation I looked
to the left upon a higher and still wilder and more dreary
range ; and, towering above all the rest, in gloomy gran
deur, its naked sides pierced with doors for the cells of
hermits, was the mountain of our Saviour's fasting and
temptation ; before me were the plains of Jericho, the Val
ley of the Jordan, the Mountains of Arabia, and the Dead
Sea. A high, square building, like a tower, marked the
site of Jericho, and a small stream, running between two
banks of sand, was the hallowed Jordan.
Descending the mountain, on our left, directly at the foot,
were the remains of an aqueduct and other ruins, which, in
all probability, were part of the ancienf- city of Jericho.
The plain commences at the foot of the mountains ; the
land is fertile, and well watered with streams emptying into
the Jordan ; but for the most part wild and uncultivated.
About half way across we passed the edge of a stagnant
pool, nearly covering a Mussulman burying-ground ; the
tombstones were washed from their places, and here and
there the ghastly skeletons were visible above the muddy
water. In one place, crossing a stream, we met three Abys-
sinians, who had come from the remotest point in the inte-

JERICHO. 199
rior of Africa where the name of Christian is known, to
bathe in the sacred Jordan. Two or three times we were
obstructed by brick fences, intended as ramparts, to protect
the inhabitants and their flocks against the incursions of
wolves ; and at about four o'clock we arrived at the ruined
village of Jericho.
I have observed that travellers generally, when they ar
rive at any place of extraordinary interest, find the right
glow of feeling coming over them precisely at the proper
moment. I never had any difficulty in Italy ; for there, in
the useful guidebook of Madame Starke, beautifully inter-
'spersed with valuable information about hotels, post-horses,
and the price of washing linen, the reader may find pre
pared for him an appropriate catalogue of sensations for al
most every possible situation and object, from a walk in the
Coliseum by moonlight to a puppet-show at San Carlino in
Naples ; but, in a country like this, a man is thrown upon
his own resources ; and, notwithstanding the interest at
tached to the name of Jericho, I found it a hard matter to
feel duly excited.
Jericho was the first city in Canaan which fell into the
hands of the Israelites. It was long the second city of Ju
dea, and, according to the Jewish Talmud, contained twelve
thousand priests. It had its hippodrome and amphitheatre,
and in its rqyal palace Herod the Tetrarch died. But the
curse of Joshua seems to rest upon it now : " Cursed be
the man before the Lord who shall rebuild Jericho." It
consists of fifty or sixty miserable Arab houses, the walls
of which on three sides are of stones, piled up like the stone
fences of our farmers, most of them not so high as a man's
head, and the front and top either entirely open or covered
with brush.
The old fortress in which I expected to sleep I found
entirely abandoned, and the apartments used as a shelter
foi sheep and goats. I expected to find there the aga,

SOO INCIDENTS OP TRAVEL.
quietly smoking his pipe, and glad to receive and gossip
with a stranger ; but I had mounted to the top, and looked
out upon the extensive plains of Jericho and the Valley of
the Jordan without meeting a single person ; and it was
not until I had gone out of the gate, and, with the bridle in
my hand, was walking back into the village, that I noticed
the remarkable circumstance, so different from the usual
course of matters in Arab villages, that no throng of idlers
had gathered around me. In fact, I had passed through the
village, gone to the fortress, and come back, without seeing
a man ; and soon found that there was not a male in the
village above ten years old, except the aga, and one pass
ing Arab. It had numbered sixty men, of whom Ibrahim
Pacha had ordered a levy of twenty-four for his army.
The miserable inhabitants had decided among themselves
upon nineteen who could best be spared ; and, unable to
supply the rest, in a spirit of desperation had abandoned
their village ; and, taking with them all the boys above ten
years old, fied to the mountains around the Dead Sea, where
they were now in arms, ripe for rebellion, robbery, and
murder. I found myself very much at a loss ; the aga was a stran
ger there, and knew nothing of the localities ; and I could
not find a boy old enough to conduct me to the Well of
Elisha. Some of the women knew where it was, but they
would not go with me, though I asked them in all courtesy;
and, taking my direction from them, and fixing my eyes on
the naked top of the mountain of our Saviour's temptation,
in about half an hour I reached the miraculous fountain
where, at the request of the men of Jericho, Elisha " cast
salt into the spring and healed the water.'' It is enclosed
in a large marble basin, and several streams, constantly
running from it, refresh and fertilize the plains of Jericho.
Riding on a short distance farther, I came to an aqueduct
and the ruins of a Greek convent, at the base of the " ex-

A NAVIGATOR OF THE DEAD SEA. 201
ceeding high mountain'' from whose top the devil showed
our Saviour all the kingdoms of the world. The naked
sides of the mountain are studded with doors, opening to
the cells of anchorites and hermits, who there turned their
backs upon temptation, and, amid desolation and solitude,
passed their days in penance and prayer.
It was dark when I returned to Jericho. Before going
away, the aga had taken me to his hut, and wished me to
pass the night with him ; but, as two horses had already
taken their places before me, and the hut was perfectly
open, having merely a roof of branches, and nothing at all
in front, 1 had looked round and selected another for my
lodging-place, chiefly from the circumstance of its having a
small boat set up on its side before it, so as to form a front
wall. That boat told a melancholy tale. It was the only one
that had ever floated on the Dead Sea. About eight months
before, Mr. Costigan, an Irish traveller, who had been some
years in the East, had projected a most interesting journey,
and, most unhappily for himself and the interests of science,
died almost in the moment of its successful accomplish
ment. He had purchased his boat at Beyroot, and, with a
Maltese sailor for his servant, in spite of many difficulties
and impediments from the Arabs, had carried it across the
country on a dromedary, and launched it on the Sea of Gal
ilee ; he had explored this most interesting water, and en
tering the Jordan, followed it down until he narrowly escaped
with his life among the rocks and rapids of that ancient but
unknown river ; and then constantly obstructed by the
Arabs, even the governor of Damascus refusing him any fa
cilities, with great difficulty he succeeded in bringing his
boat by land to the Dead Sea. In the middle of July he
had embarked with his servant to make the tour of the sea,
and eight days afterward the old woman in whose tent I
lodged had found him lying on the shore alone, gasping for

202 INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL.
breath. She had him carried to her hut, where he lay till
the Rev. Mr. Nicolaisen, the English missionary at Jeru
salem, came for him, and the second day after his arrival
in Jerusalem he died. With his dying breath he bore the
same testimony to the kindness of woman under the burning
sun of Syria, that our countryman Ledyard did in the wilds
of Siberia ; for, while lying upon the shores of the Dead
Sea, the Arabs gathered round him only to gaze, and would
have left him to die there if this old woman had not pre
vailed upon two of her sons to carry hira to her hut.
That boat was interesting to me for another reason. No
thing, not even the thought of visiting Petra and the land
of Idumea, affected me so strangely as the idea of making
the tour of this sea ; and, notwithstanding the miserable
state of my health, shattered by my journey in the desert,
as soon as I heard, after my arrival at Jerusalem, that there
was a boat at Jericho, I began to think of taking advantage
of it. If 1 had succeeded in this, I should consider my tour
the most perfect and complete ever made by any oriental
traveller. I had hunted up the oars, sail, &c. ; but on my
return from Jaffa I was compelled to abandon all thoughts
of making the attempt. Still, when I saw the boat, all my
ardour revived ; and never, in my lonely journeyings in the
East, did I wish so earnestly for the comfort and support
of a friend. With a companion, or even with a servant,
who would encourage and support me, in spite of my health
I should certainly have undertaken it ; but Paul was partic
ularly averse to the attempt ; the boat was barely large
enough for two ; and I was compelled to give up the
thought. That evening I saw at Jericho what I never saw before.
It was a beautiful moonlight night, and all the women were
out of doors singing and dancing. The dance was alto
gether indescribable ; consisting not of wanton movements,
like those of the dancing girls in Egypt, but merely in jom-

A DANCE BY MOONLIGHT. 203
ing hands and moving round in a circle, keeping time to the
hiusic of their own voices. I had never seen so gay and
joyous a scene among the women in the East ; and though
their fathers, and brothers, and husbands, and lovers were
away among the mountains, I did not feel disposed to judge
them harshly. It was so rare, in that unhappy country, to
see anything like gayety of heart, that if they had been
dancing over the graves of their husbands I should have
been inclined to join them. And they did not shun us as
the Moslem women generally do ; they talked with us with
their faces uncovered ; and I remember a young Arab girl,
not more than sixteen, who had a child in her arras, and
who told me that its father had fled to the mountains, and
she put the child in my arms while she joined in the dance.
In fact, my situation began to be peculiar ; the aga had
gone off to look for some one who would accompany me to
the Dead Sea; and among perhaps more than a hundred
women, that night Paul, and I, and ray rauleteers were the
only men in Jericho. In justice to the poor Arab women,
however, I would remove from them any imputation of want
of feeling or hardness of heart ; for I have no doubt the
young girl who left her child in my arms loved its father
as warmly as if they were all clad in purple and fine rai
ment every day.
I would have been better satisfied, however, if that night
they had ceased their merriment at an earlier hour ; for long
after I had lain down on my stony bed, their song and laugh
prevented my sleeping ; and when they had retired, other
noises followed : the lowing of cattle, the bleating of sheep
and goats, the stamping of horses, the crying of children,
and the loud barking of the watch-dog ; and, finally, the
fierce assault of the voracious insects that always swarm in
an Arab's hut, drove me from my bed and out of doors.
The cool air refreshed and revived rae, and I walked by the
light of a splendid moon among the miserable huts of the

204 INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL.
village, hunted and barked at by the watching wolf-dog,
and perhaps exciting the apprehensions of the unprotected
women. I leaned against a high fence of brush enclosing some
of the huts, and mused upon the wonderful events of which
this miserable place had been the scene, until my eyes be
gan to close ; when, opening a place among the bushes, I
drew my cloak around me and crawled in, and soon fell fast
asleep. Once during the night I was worried and almost
dragged out of my burrowing-place by the dogs, but I
kicked them away and slept on. At daylight the aga was
pulling me by the shoulder, armed to the teeth, and ready
to escort me. I shook myself and my toilet was made ,
and before the laughers, and singers, and dancers of the
previous night had waked from their slumbers, we were
mounted and on our way to the Jordan.

THE RIVER JORDAN. 205

CHAPTER XV.
The River Jordan. — The Dead Sea. — Force of Example. — Buoyancy of
the Dead Sea. — A Perilous Ascent. — A Navigator of the Dead Sea. —
Story of the Voyage. — The Convent of Santa Saba.
Moving directly from the ruined village, we soon left the
fertile plains of Jericho and entered the barren valley of the
Jordan. It was washed and torn by the mountain torrents,
full of gullies and large sand-hills ; and in about an hour
and a half we were standing on the banks of the river, at
the most hallowed spot on the margin of that sacred stream,
where, eighteen hundred years ago, John baptized the Re
deemer of the world ; and where, year after year, thousands
of pilgrims throw themselves into the river with the blind
belief that, by bathing in its waters, they wash away their
sins. As a pious pilgrim, it would have been my duty, per
haps, to do the same ; but the reader will please remember
that it was the last day of March ; that I had slept in a
bush ; that my limbs were stiff; and that it was not yet
six o'clock in the morning, and that I had not breakfasted.
Sitting down, then, on the bank, I made my morning meal,
and drank as devoutly of its water as any pilgrim who ever
stood by Jordan.
I afterward followed the river close along its bank till it
emptied into the Dead Sea, and nowhere found any spot
that, for beauty of scenery, could be compared with this
consecrated bathing-place of the pilgrims. The bank here
is about ten or twelve feet high ; a clear, level table of land,
covered with rich grass, and large bushes on the edge over
hanging the river. Judging by the eye, the river is here
Vol. n.— S

SOS INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL.
about thirty paces broad ; the current is very rapid, and
the pilgrim, in bathing, is obliged to hold on by the bushes
to avoid being carried away. Here, it is said, the wild
beast still has his haunt ; and the traveller sometimes, when
the river is rising, may realize the expression, " He shall
come up like a lion out of the swelling of Jordan." Op
posite, the bank is loW, and the bushes grow down to the
water's edge; Immediately below this the river narrows
to ten paces ; and there is not another spot on the line of
the Jordan which can attract the eye of the traveller. It is
a small, broken, and muddy stream, running between banks
of barren sand, without bloom or verdure ; and if it were
not for the associations connected with it, a man would turn
from it as the most uninteresting of rivers^ In one place I
saw an Arab wading across j and the river there, so far as
I could judge, had not fallen more than two feet. I followed
it as closely as the cracks and gullies would allow, cutting
off none of the bends. For the last two or three miles it
runs between perpendicular banks of sand, from five to ten
feet high, and its pure waters are already corrupted by the
pestiferous influence of the bituminous lake. On the left it
stops even with the shore ; but on the right the bank runs
out to a low, sandy point, round which a quantity of drift
wood is collected ; and here^ with a gentle ripple of its wa
ters, the Jordan is lost in the Dead Sea.
I followed it almost to the very point, until my horse's
feet sank above his fetlocks in the wet sand. It was the
old opinion, and was counted among the wonders of the
Lake Asphaltites, that the river passed through without
mingling with the waters of the lake ; and Pococke says,
" I thought I saw the stream of a different colour ;" but Po
cocke did not follow the river down to the extreme point.
I did ; and could see most distinctly the very spot where
the waters mingled ; instead of the river keeping its way
through, its current was rather stopped at once by the

THE DEAD SEA. 207
denser water of the lake ; and, in fact, for two or three miles
above its mouth, the Jordan is impregnated with the salt
and bituminous matter of the lake.
Almost at the moment of my turning from the Jordan to
the Dead Sea, notwithstanding the long-credited accounts
that no bird could fly over without dropping dead upon its
surface, I saw a flock of gulls floating quietly on its bosom ;
and when I roused them with a stone, they flew down the
lake, skimming its surface until they had carried themselves
out of sight. From the point on which I stood, near its
eastern shore, the sea was spread out before me, motionless
as si lake of molten lead, bounded on either side by ranges
of high and barren mountains, and on its southern extremity
by the great desert Valley of El Ghor ; constantly receiv
ing the waters of the Jordan, but, unlike other waters, send
ing no tribute to the sea. Pliny, Diodorus Siculus, and
Josephus describe it as more than sixty miles long ; but
Mr. Banks and his companions, by observation from ele
vated heights, make it not more than thirty ; and, as the
ancients were better acquainted with it than modern geogra
phers, it has been supposed that the lake has contracted in
its dimensions, and that part of the Valley of El Ghor was
once covered by its waters. Moving on slowly from the
point of the Jordan, the shores low and sandy, strewed with
brush and driftwood, and rising in a slope to the sandy
plain above, I rode along nearly the whole head of the lake,
with my horse's feet in the water, and twice picked up a
large piece of bitumen, almost like common pitch, supposed
to be thrown up from the bottom of the lake. The sand is
not bright like that of an Atlantic or Mediterranean beach,
but of a dirty, dark brown. The water is exceedingly clear
and transparent, but its taste and smell are a compound of
all that is bad.
It was now the last day of March, and even before we
left the plains of the Jordan the sun had been intensely hot •

208 INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL.
without a branch or leaf to break its force, it poured upon
the dreary waste around the Dead Sea with a scorching and
withering heat. It was on this shore that the Knight of the
Leopard encountered the Saracen Emir ; and in the sandy
plain above is the beautiful scene of the Diamond of the
Desert, in the opening of Scott's Crusaders. The general
features of the scenery along the northern shore of the Dead
Sea are admirably described. The Diamond of the Desert
is, of course, the creation of the author's fancy ; and the only
actual error is in placing the wilderness of Engaddi, which
Scott has confounded with the mountains of Quarantania,
but which is really half way down the borders of the sea.
It was two o'clock when my guards, having conducted
me along the head of the sea, proposed returning to Jericho.
I had already had some difficulty with them. Twice dis
appointed in my purposed exploration of this sea ;, once in
my wish, conceived on the top of Mount Hor, to strike it
at its southern extremity, and coast along its borders ; and
then, in the still more attractive project of exploring it in a
boat, instead of returning to Jericho, my, desire was to go
down the borders of the sea, and turn up araong the mount
ains to the convent of Santa Saba. At Jerusalem I could
not hire horses for this convent, because, as they said, it
was a dangerous route ; and I took them for Jericho, hoping
in some way or other still to accomplish my object. By
accident, an Arab frora Santa Saba had come to Jericho
during the night ; and in the morning I told the aga and his
companion that I would not have them as my escort at all,
unless they would go with me to the convent. They at
first objected, but afterward promised to go as far as I
wanted them ; now they again made objections. I thought
it was ra.erely to enhance the value of their services ; but
in a few raoments they told me they would not go any far
ther ; that the order of the governor was to protect me to
the Dead Sea and back to Jericho. The worst of it was,

BUOYANCY OF THE DEAD SEA. 209
that my muleteers refused to go -without the guard ; and, al
though we had a guide with us who told us there was no
danger, though we had not met a single Arab since we left
Jericho, and though we could see many miles down the lake,
and plainly distinguish the wild track up the bare side of the
mountain to the open country above, they were " afraid of the
bad Arabs." I was determined, however, not to go back to
Jericho. I had no idea of sleeping in the bushes again ;
and, spurring my horse, I told Paul to follow me, and they
might do as they pleased. The aga and his companion
bade me farewell ; and, dashing over the arid plain, were
soon hidden from view by hillocks of sand. I continued
along the shore ; and, after a few moments' consultation,
my Arabs quietly followed me.
Since early in the morning, I had had the sea constantly
before my eyes. While riding along the northern shore,
the general aspect was very much the same ; but, as soon
as I turned the head, and began to move along its side, the
mountains every moment assumed a different aspect, al
though everywhere wild, rugged, and barren. At three
o'clock we were approaching a place where the mountain
rises precipitously from the lake, leaving no room for a pas
sage at its foot ; my eyes were fixed upon the lake, my
thoughts upon its mysterious properties. The ancients be
lieved that living bodies, and even heavy metals, would not
sink in it ; and Pliny and Strabo have written of its extraor
dinary buoyancy. Before I left Jerusalem, I had resolved
not to bathe in it, on account of my health ; and I had sus
tained my resolution during the whole of my day% ride
along its shore ; but, on the point of turning up among the
mountains, I could resist no longer. My clothes seemed to
come off of their own accord ; and, before Paul had time to
ask me what I was going to do, I was floating on its waters.
Paul and the Arabs followed; and, after splashing aboijt
for a while, we lay like a parcel of corks upon its Surface,
sa

210 INCIDENTS or TRAVEL.
From my own experience, I can almost corroborate the
most extravagant accounts of the ancients. I know, in ref
erence to my own specific gravity, that in the Atlantic or
Mediterranean I cannot, float without some little movement
of the hands ; and even then my body is almost totally sub
merged ; but here, when I threw myself upon my back, my
body was half out of water. It was an exertion even for
my lank Arabs to keep themselves under. When I struck
out in swimming, it was exceedingly awkward ; for my legs
were constantly rising lo the surface, and even above the
water. 1 could have lain there and read with perfect ease.
In fact, 1 could have slept, and it would have been a much
easier bed than the bushes at Jericho. It was ludicrous to
see one of the horses. As soon as his body touched the
¦water he was afloat, and turned over on his side ; he strug
gled with all his force to preserve his equilibrium ; but the mo
ment he stopped moving he turned over on his side again, and
almost on his back, kicking his feet out of water, and snorting
with terror. The worst of my bath was, after it was over, my
skin was covered with a thick, glutinous substance, which it
required another ablution to get rid of; and after I had wiped
myself dry, my body burnt and smarted as if I had been
turned round before a roasting fire. My face and ears were
incrusted with salt ; my hairs stood out, " each particular
hair on end ;'' and my eyes were irritated and infiamed, so
that I felt the effects of it for several days. In spite of all
this, however, revived and refreshed by my bath, I mounted
my horse a new man.
Modern science has solved all the mystery about this
water. It has been satisfactorily analyzed, and its specific
gravity ascertained to be 1.211, a degree of density unknown
in any other, the specific gravity of fresh water being 1.000 ;
and it has been found to hold in solution the following pro
portions of salt to one liundred grains of water —

A PERILOUS ASCENT. 211
Oraiiia.
Muriate of lime, 3.920
Muriate of magnesia, 10.246
Muriate of soda, 10.360
Sulphate of lime, 0.054

24.580
Except the ruined city of Petra, I never felt so unwilling
to leave any place. I was unsatisfied. 1 had a longing
desire to explore every part of that unknown water; to
spend days upon its surface ; to coast along its shores ; to
sound its mysterious depths, and search for the ruins of the
guilty cities. And why not ? If we believe our Bible, that
bituminous lake covers the once fertile Vale of Siddim, and
the ruins of Sodom and Gomorrah; and why may wo not
see them ? The ruins of Thebes still cover for miles the
banks of the Nile ; the pyramids stand towering as when
they were built, and no man knows their builders ; and the
traveller may still trace, by " the great river, the Euphrates,"
the ruins of the Tower of Babel. Besides, that water does
not destroy ; it preserves all that it touches ; the wood that
falls into it becomes petrified by its action ; and I can see
no good reason why it should hide for ever from man's eyes
the monuments of that fearful anger which the crimes of the
guilty had so righteously provoked.
Except to the summit of Mount Hor, I never had so desr
perate a climb as up the barren mountain on the borders of
the Dead Sea. We had not found any water fit to drink
since we left the Jordan, and turned up a little before we
reached the place we had intended, the guide telling us that
here we would find a spring. We were soon obliged to
dismount ; and even our sure-footed horses, trained as they
were to climbing mountains, slipped, faltered, and com
pletely failed. Our guide told us that be had never as
cended with horses before ; and, looking forward, the at
tempt seemed utterly impossible; but the noble animals
climbed with the iiltelligence of men, holding on with their

212 INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL.
fore-feet as if they were hands, and the Arabs above pulling
them by the mane, or pushing from below. One of them,
in climbing an almost perpendicular height, fell over back
ward. I thought he was killed ; and my Arabs, irritated by
toil, thirst, and the danger to their horses, sprang upon the
guide, and I believe would have killed him if Paul and I
had not interfered. Taking off the enormous saddle, we
all joined above and below, and hoisted and pushed him up
almost bodily.
It was nearly dark when we reached the top of the mount
ain, and I sat down for a moment to' take a last look at the
Dead Sea. From this distance its aspect. fully justified its
name. It was calm, motionless, and seemingly dead ; there
was no wave or ripple on its surface, nor was it hurrying
on, like other waters, to pay its tribute to the ocean ; the
mountains around it were also dead ; no trees or shrubs,
not a blade of grass grew on their naked sides ; and, as in
the days of Moses, " Brimstone and salt, it is not sown, nor
beareth, nor any grass groweth thereon."
One thing had especially attracted Iny attention in as
cending the mountain ; on attaining a particular point, we
had a clear view of the whole sea, and at the extreme end
we saw distinctly what Paul and I both at once called,^ an
island. M. Seetzen, one of the earliest modem travellers
who visited this sea, imagined that he had discovered a
large island in the same direction ; and though no one be
lieved in its reality, I had then seen no satisfactory expla
nation of the appearance. I could not be deceived in what
I saw. There never was anything that looked more like an
island, and I afterward received an explanation which to me
at least was perfectly satisfactory. It comes from one who
ought to know, from the only man who ever made the tour
of that sea, and lived to tell of it ; and, relying upon the in
teresting nature of the subject, I make np apology fpr intro.-
ducing it here,

Costj/j'ajb found/ ln' tUL^ii-ab

MuJ.c d'/ric nidi, llaia-
tirsi tntui Iwutcti Suil

Hat \vcda\\-cU.o\v ^tUijIiur
xpri/UfS Out vt' ivuta-
Cosiiaojt aai-cup

Itiiuis sniootJi. Oil stuti£s
Coitiihui called -Uhc/ih
ruiiis ot'OoiiuiiDi'rtJh

Zooixd TorSii'a' 0T'J)oa^
J)csat VtilMi- ot' Stuul ¦'i- yah

A NAVIGATOR OF THE DEAD SEA. 213
When the unhappy Costigan was found by the Arabs on
the shore of the Dead Sea, the spirit of the enterprising
Irishman was fast fleeting away. He lived two days after
he was carried to the convent at Jerusalem, but he never
once referred to his unhappy voyage. He had long been a
traveller in the East, and long preparing for this voyage ;
had read every book that treated of the mysterious water,
and was thoroughly prepared with all the knowledge neces
sary for exploring it to advantage. Unfortunately for the
interests of science, he had always been in the habit of trust
ing greatly to his memory ; and, after his death, the mis
sionaries in Jerusalem found no regular diary or journal, but
merely brief notes written on the margins of books, so ir
regular and confused that they could make nothing of them ;
and, either from indifference, or because they had no con
fidence in him, they allowed Costigan's servant to go with
out asking him any questions. I took some pains to trace
out this man ; and afterward, while lying at Beyroot, suffer
ing from a malady which abruptly put an end to my travels
in the East, Paul hunted him out and brought him to me.
He was a little, dried-up Maltese sailor ; had rowed around
that sea without knowing why, except that he was paid for
it ; and what he told rae bore the starap of truth, for he did
not seem to think that he had done anything extraordinary.
He knew as little about it as any man could know who had
been over the same water ; and yet, after all, perhaps he
knew as much as any one else could learn. He seemed,
however, to have observed the coast and the soundings with
the eye of a sailor, and I got him to make rae a raap, which
has been engraved for this work, and on which I marked
down the particulars as I received them from his lips. The
reader will see by it that they had completed the whole tour,
of the lake. They were eight days in accomplishing the
task, sleeping every night on shore except once, when,
afraid of some suspicious Arabs whom they saw on the

216 INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL.
three hours, crossing a rich and fertile country, where flow
ers were blooming, and Arab shepherds were pasturing
their flocks of sheep and goats, we had descended the bed
of a ravine, where the Kedron passes from Jerusalem to
the Dead Sea, at the foot of the mountains of Santa Saba.
It vt-as night when we arrived ; and, groping our way by
the uncertain light of the moon, we arrived at the door of
the convent, a lofty and gigantic structure, rising in stories
or terraces, one above the other, against the sides of the
mountain, to its very top ; and then crowned with turrets
that, from the base where I stood, seemed, like the tower
at which the wickedness of man was confounded, striving to
reach to heaven.
We " knocked, and it was opened to us ;" ascended two
or three flights of steps, climbed up a ladder, crawled
through a small door, only large enough to admit one at a
time, and found ourselves in an antechamber, surrounded
by more than a hundred Greek pilgrims. A monk conduct
ed us up two or three flights of steps to the chamber of the
superior, where we took coffee. In a few moments we
followed him again up two or three more flights of steps to
a neat little room, with a divan and a large pile of coverlets.
I thought of the bush in which I had lodged the night be
fore, spread out a few of the coverlets, crawled in among
them, and in a few moments the Dead Sea, and the Holy
Land, and every other land and sea were nothing to me.

CONVENT OF SANTA SABA. 217

CHAPTER XVl.
Convent of Santa Saba.— A strange Picture.- Celebration of Good Friday.
—Palm Sunday.— A Struggle for Life.— The Grave pf a Friend.-A Con
vert. — Burial of a Missionary.
I SLEPT till niie o'clock the next morning. The first
thing I did after breakfast was to mount to the tower at the
top of the convent. This is the largest Greek convent in
the Holy Land ; and I remarked that it was in a good state
of repair, and that large and expensive improvements were
then in progress. The tower commanded a view of the
whole convent, built in terraces, in a sort of amphitheatre,
in the side of the mountain. All around, particularly in the
mountain opposite, were ranges of grottoes, formerly the
residences of anchorites and hermits, admirably situated for
cherishing pious thoughts and leading a holy life. An old,
white-bearded monk, leaning on his staff, was toiling up its
sides, leading a long procession of pilgrims, probably to some
very holy place ; and below me, apparently growing out of
the rock, was a large palm-tree, planted, as they say, by
Santa Saba himself in the fourth century. The cemetery
is about half way down, in a vault under an open area. The
flat stone that covered the entrance was fastened down with
cement. The monk told me that the bodies of the dead
were laid on stone benches, where lime was thrown over
them, and, as soon as decomposition had taken place, the
bones were removed and thrown upon a pile in another
part of the cemetery. '
The chapel, like all the other Greek chapels, was full of
gaudy and ridiculous ornaments and paintings ; and, among
Vol. n.— T

218 INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL.
the latter, there was one that attracted the particular admira
tion and reverence of the pilgrims. At the top of the picture
sat the Father, surrounded by angels, and patriarchs, and
good men ; and on his right was a range of two-story houses,
St. Peter standing before them with the keys in his hand.
Below the Father was a large, powerful man, with a huge
pair of scales in his hand, weighing sinners as they came
up, and billeting on each the weight of his sins ; below him
were a number of naked figures, in a sitting posture, with
their arms spread out, and their legs enclosed in long boxes
extended horizontally. On the left a stream of fire was
coming down from the Father, and collecting in the mouth
of a huge nondescript sea-monster, while in front stood a
great half-naked figure, pitching in the sinners just as the
fireman on board a steamboat pitches in the long sticks of
wood, and the damned were kicking about in the flames.
On the right was Elias doing battle with Antichrist ; and
below was a representation of the last day, and the graves
giving up their dead, in almost every conceivable variety of
form and situation.
In another chapel, dedicated to John of Damascus, who
formerly lived there, behind an iron grating in a grotto of
the rock was a large pile of sculls and bones, the remains
of fourteen thousand hermits who dwelt among the mount
ains and were slain by the Turks.
The superior had been waiting some time to accompany
me to Jerusalem. Will the reader believe it 1 This man
had lived twenty years in the convent, and had never been
to the Dead Sea ! I was so disgusted with him that I rode
on and left him ; and, following the Valley of the Kedron,
meeting on the way hundreds of Greek pilgrims, in three
hours I was again in Jerusalem.

The next night being Good Friday, the monks of the
Latin Convent performed the ceremony of the Crucifixion.

CELEBRATION OF GOOD FRIDAY. 219
The doors were open at an early hour for a short time, and
then closed for the night, so that we were obliged to be
there two or three hours before the cereraony began. Most
of the pilgrims had prepared against the tediousness of wait
ing by bringing with them their beds, mats, and coverlets ;
and all around the fioor of the church, raen, woraen, and
children were taking an intermediate nap. The proceed
ings commenced in the chapel of the Latin Convent, where
priests, monks, pilgrims, Paul, and myself, all assembled,
every one holding in his hand a long lighted candle. The
superior, with his gold mitre and black velvet cloak trimmed
with gold, my friend the Sicilian priest, and some other dig
nitaries of the church, were present, very richly dressed.
On a large cross was the figure of a man, representing the
Saviour, the crown of thorns on his head, nails in his hands
and feet, blood trickling from them, and a gaping wound in
his side. Before setting out on the procession the lights
were extinguished ; and, in total darkness, a monk com
menced a sermon in Italian. After this the candles were
relighted, banners and crucifixes raised, and the procession
moved round the church towards Calvary. Stopping at the
Pillar of Flagellation, at the prison where they say Christ
was confined, where the crown of thorns was put upon his
head, where his raiment was, divided, &c., and giving a
chant, and an address by one of the monks at each place,
they wound round the church until they came to the stair
case leading to Calvary ; and, leaving their shoes below,
mounted barefoot to the place of crucifixion. Here they
first went to an altar on the right, where, as they have it,
Christ was nailed to the cross ; and laying the figure down
on the floor, although they had been bearing it aloft for more
than two hours, they now went through the ceremony of nail
ing it ; and, returning to the adjoining altar, passed the foot
of the cross through the marble floor, and, with the bleed
ing figure upon it, set it up in the hole in the natural rock,

220 INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL.
according to the tradition, in the very spot where, eighteen
hundred years ago, Christ was crucified. At the foot of the
cross a monk preached a sermon in Italian, warm, earnest,
and impassioned ; frequently turning round, and, with both
hands extended, apostrophizing the bleeding figure above
hira. In spite of my skepticism and incredulity, and my
contempt for monkish tricks, I could not behold this scene
unmoved. Every attendant upon the crucifixion was repre
sented ; for the Governor of Jerusalem was present, with a
smile of scorn upon his handsome features, and Turkish
and Mussulman soldiers, breaking the stillness of the scene
* with loud laughs of derision ; and I could almost imagine
that I heard the unbelieving JeWs, with gibes and sneers,
crying out, " If he be the King of Israel, let him come down
from the cross !"
After the body had remained some time suspended,
two friars, personating Joseph of Ariraathea and Nicode
mus, approached the foot of the cross ; and one of them
on the right, with a long pair of pincers, took the crown
of thorns from the head, waved it around slowly with a
theatrically mournful air, kissed it, and laid it down on a
table before him ; he then drew long spikes from the hands
and feet, and moving them around, one by one, slowly as
before, kissed them, and laid them also on the table. I
never saw anything more affecting than this representation,
bad as it was, of the bloody drama of the crucifixion ; and
as the monks drew out the long nails from the hands and
feet, even the scoffing Mussulmans stopped their laugh of
derision. I stood by the table while they laid the body
upon it, and wrapped it in a clean linen cloth ; followed
them when they carried it down from Calvary to the stone
of unction ; stood by the head of the stone while they
washed and anointed "<t, and prepared it for burial, and
followed it to the door of the sepulchre. It was now
near two o'clock ; the ceremony was ended, the Mussul-

PALM SUNDAY. 221
man soldiers had retired, and Paul and I returned to the
convent. We had no lamp ; and as, in all the Turkish
cities, every one is obliged to carry a lamp at night, and,
in fact, it is necessary for his own security, we walked
through the narrow streets of Jerusalem bearing the same
long candles with which we had figured in the procession
of the crucifixion.
On Sunday morning, being Easter, or Palm Sunday, I
visited, for the last time, the Church of the Holy Sepulchre.
It was more crowded than I had ever yet seen it. The
courtyard literally swarmed with venders of amulets, cruci
fixes, and holy ornaments ; and within the church were ta
bles of oranges, figs, dates, &c. The Arab baker was walk
ing about, with a large tray on his head, crying his bread ;
and in each of the altars was a sort of shop, in which
Greeks were making and selling chaplets and wreaths of
palm-leaves. It was altogether a lively image of the scene
when Christ went into the temple, and " cast out them that
bought and sold, and overthrew the tables of the money
changers." The ceremonies of the day were in commem
oration of that on which our Saviour entered into Jerusalem,
riding upon an ass, when the multitude followed him, strew
ing their garments and branches of palm-trees in his path,
and crying, " Hosannah to the Son of David !" When I
entered, the monks of the Latin Convent were celebrating
grand mass before the holy sepulchre ; and, in the mean
time, the Greeks were getting ready for their turn. Their
chapel was crowded, and all along the corridors the monks
were arranging the people in procession, and distributing
banners, for which the young Greeks were scrambling ;
and in one place a monk, with a standard in his hand,
which had just been handed down from above, with his
¦ back against the wall, was knocking and kicking away a
crowil of young Greeks, struggling to obtain it for the pro
cession.
T2

222 INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL.
As soon as the Latins had finished, the Arab soldiers,
whom I always found regular attendants at these scenes, as
if they knew what was coming when the Greeks began, ad
dressed them with loud shouts of " YeUah, yellah — come
on, come on." A large banner was stationed at the door
of the sepulchre ; and the rush of the pilgrims to pros
trate themselves before it, and to touch it with their palm-
branches, was tremendous. A tall young Greek, with a
large turban on his head, while his left hand supported the
banner, was laying about him with his right as if he were
really defending the sepulchre itself from the hands of the
infidels. The procession advanced under a loud chant,
preceded by a body of Turkish officers to clear the way ;
then came the priests, wearing their richest dresses, their
mitres and caps richly ornamented with precious stones,
and carrying aloft sacred banners, and one of them sprink
ling holy water. Wherever he came the rush was terrible ;
the Greeks became excited to a sort of phrensy in their
eagerness to catch a drop ; and one strapping fellow, burst
ing through the rear ranks, thrust his face over my shoulder,
and bawled out, " Papa, papa," in such an agonizing voice,
that the " papa" aimed at hira a copious discharge, of which
my face received the principal benefit. When the largest
banner came round, the struggle to touch it with the palm-
branches was inconceivable. A Turkish officer had, until
this time, covered me with his body, and, by dint of shout
ing, kicking, and striking furiously about him, saved me till
the procession passed by ; but after this the rush became
dreadful. I could feel my ribs yielding under the pressure,
and was really alarmed when a sudden and mighty surge
of the struggling mass hurried me into the stock in trade of
a merchant of dates and oranges. Instead of picking up
his goods, the fellow grappled at me ; but I got out of his
clutches as well as I could ; and, setting up for myself,
kicked, thumped, and scuffled until I made my way to the

MOUNT ZION. 223
door ; and that was my last visit to the Church of the Holy
Sepulchre. I had regretted that I could not stay for the great Greek
jugglery, the drawing down fire from heaven, when every
pilgrim considers himself bound to light his taper at the sa
cred fiame ^ and those who light first are considered the
most fortimate and the most favoured in the sight of God.
I could imagine the wild and frantic struggling among more
than ten thousand bigots and fanatics for the first rays of
the heavenly light ; but, from what I saw that day, I felt
that it would be putting life and limb in peril to be among
them. Two years before a horrible catastrophe had hap
pened at the enactment of this ceremony. The air of the
church had become so contaminated by the exhalations
from the bodies of the thousands crowded within it, that
respiration became difficult ; terror, confusion, and a rush
for the door ensued ; Ibrahim Pacha was carried out sense
less, over the heads of the people, by a strong body of his
soldiers ; and between two and three hundred pilgrims were
trodden down and trampled to death. Their bodies were
laid out next morning in the court of the church ; and so
degraded is the character of these Christian pilgrims, that,
as I was told by Mr. Nicolaisen, the English missionary to
the Jews, who was looking araong thera for a servant of
his own, the friends and relatives of the slain carried them
away in triuraph, as raartyrs in the cause of Christ.
My last visit in Jerusalem was to Mount Zion. I believe
I have not mentioned that on this hill stands the tomb, or
the supposed tomb, of David. It is covered by a mosque ;
the tomb is walled in, and, as the Arab doorkeeper told me,
even the eyes of the pacha are not permitted to look within
the holy place. Here, too, is the coenaculum, or chamber
where our Saviour ate his last supper with his disciples ;
in the Armenian chapel is the real stone that was rolled
from the door of the sepulchre ; and here also is the house

224 INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL.
of Caiphas the high-priest, with a tree marking the spot
where the cock crew when- Peter denied his master.
But there was one spot on Mount Zion far more inter
esting to me than all these, or even than anything in Jeru
salem. It was the grave of my early friend, whom I had
tracked in his wanderings from the Cataracts of the Nile,
through the wilderness of Sinai, to his last resting-place in
Jerusalem. Years had rolled away since I bade hira fare
well in the streets of our native city. I had heard of him
in the gay circles of Paris as about to wed with one of the
proudest names in France ; again, as a wanderer in the
East, and then as dead in Palestine. But a few short years
had passed away, and What changes ! My old school
mates, the companions of my youth and opening manhood,
where were they? Gone, scattered, dispersed, and dead ;
one of them was sleeping in the cold earth under my feet.
He had left his home, and become a wanderer in strange
lands, and had come to the Holy Land to die, and I was
now bending over his grave. Where were the friends that
should have gathered around him in the awful hour of death ?
Who closed his dying eyes? Who received his parting
words for his friends at home ? Who buried him on Mount
Zion? Once I had been present there at a scene which
almost made me weep ; the burial of an Armenian pilgrim.
He was brought for burial in the clothes in which he had
died ; the grave was too small, and had to be enlarged ;
the priest stood at the head of the grave under a heavy
shower of rain, and, as he offered me his snuff-box, grum
bled at being obliged to wait ; and when the grave was en
larged, and the body thrown in, and the wet dirt cast upon
it, he mumbled a short prayer, and then all hurried away.
And this was by the grave of my friend ; and I could not
but ask myself who had buried him, and who had mourned
over his grave. The inscription on his tombstone afforded

A CONVERT. 225
but vague answers to my questions, and they were of a
painful character. It ran thus :
D. O. M.
Hie jacet,
C»in»»*»« B»*»****^ ex Americae,
Regionibiis
Logduni Gallis Consul Hyerosolomis tactus intrinsecus sponte
Erroribus Lutheri et Calvini abjectis,
Catholicam religionem professus svnanche correptus
E vita decessit IV. nonas Augusti, MDCCCXXX., aetatis su»
XXV.
Amici mcerentes posuere
Orate pro eo.
He had died at the convent, and died alone. His travel
ling companion had accidentally remained at Jaffa, had not
heard of his sickness, and did not arrive in Jerusalem until
poor B  was in his grave. It was necessary to be wary
in my inquiries ; for the Catholics here are ever on the
watch for souls, and with great ostentation had blazoned
his conversion upon his tomb. The first time I inquired
about him, a young monk told me that he remembered him
well, as on the day of his arrival, a fine, handsome young
man, full of health and spirit, and that he imraediately com
menced talking about religion, and three days afterward
they said mass, and took the sacrament together in the
chapel of the convent. He told me the story so glibly, that
I was confident of its falsity, even without referring to its
improbability. I had known B  well. I knew that,
like most young raen with us, though entertaining the deep
est respect and reverence for holy things, in the pride of
youth and health he had lived as if there was no grave ;
and I could imagine that, stretched upon his bed of death
in the dreary cell of the convent, with " no eye to pity and
no arm to save,'' surrounded by Catholic monks, and prob
ably enfeebled in mind by disease, he had, perhaps, laid
hold of the only hope of salvation offered him ; and when I

226 INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL.
Stood over his grave, and thought of the many thorns in his
pillow in that awful hour — the distracting thoughts of home,
of the mother whose name had been the last on his lips ;
the shuddering consciousness that, if he died a Protestant,
his bones would be denied the rites of burial, I pitied, I
grieved for, but I could not blame him. But when suspi
cion was aroused by the manner of the monk, I resolved to
inquire further ; and, if his tale should prove untrue, to tear
with my own hands the libellous stone from ray friend's
grave, and hurl it down Mount Zion. I. afterward saw the
monk who had shrived him, and was told that the young
man with whom I had conversed was a prater and a fool ;
that he himself had never heard B  speak of religion
until after his return from the Dead Sea with the hand of
death upon him ; that he had administered the sacrament
to him but three days before his death, when all hope of
life was past, and that even yet it might be a question
whether he did really renounce his faith, for the solemn
abjuration was made in a language he but imperfectly un
derstood ; and he never spoke afterward, except, in the
wildness of delirium, to murraur the narae of " Mother."
I have said that, in his dying raoments, his feelings were
harrowed by the thought that his body would be denied a
Christian burial. Mr. Whiting, who accompanied me on
my first visit to his grave, told me that the Catholics would
not have allowed him a resting-place in consecrated ground ;
and, leading me a short distance to the grave of a friend
and fellow-missionary who had died since he had been at
Jerusalem, described to me what he had seen of the un
christian spirit of the Christians of the holy city. Refused
by the Latins, the friends of Dr. Dodge had asked permis
sion of the Greeks to lay his body for a little while in their
burying-ground ; and, negotiating with the dragoman of the
convent, they thought that permission had been granted ;
but, while they were in the act of performing the funeral

BURIAL OF A MISSIONARY. 227
service, a messenger came in to tell them that the grave
had been filled up. They protracted the service till the
delay excited the attention of his unhappy widow, and
they were obliged to tell her that they had no place where
they could lay the head of her young husband. A reluc
tant permission was at length granted, and they buried him
by the light of torches ; and although there had been no
graves in that part of the ground before, the Greeks had
buried all around, to prevent any application for permission
to lay by his side the body of another heretic.

228 INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL.

CHAPTER XVIL
Pilgrimage to the Jordan. — Pilgrim's Certificate. — The Tomb of SamueL
— Departure from Jerusalem. — Last View of the Dead Sea. — Village
of Einbroot. — Departure from Judea. — Mounts Gerizim and Ebal. —
An Antique Manuscript. — Paas in Samaria.
The next day I left Jerusalem ; but, before leaving it,
I was witness to another striking scene, which I shall
never forget ; the departure of the pilgrims, fifteen or twenty
thousand in number, for the Jordan. At an early hour I
was on horseback, outside St. Stephen's Gate. It was
such a morning as that on which I started for the Dead Sea,
clear, bright, and beautiful ; the streets of the city were
deserted, and the whole population were outside the walls,
sitting under the shadow of the temple, among the tombs
of the Turkish burying-ground ; the women in their long
white dresses, with their faces covered, and the men in
large fiowing robes, of gay and varied colours, and turbans of
every fashion, many of them green, the proud token of the
pilgrimage to Mecca, with pipes, and swords, and glitter
ing arms ; the whole Valley of Jehoshaphat was filled with
moving beings, in every variety of gay apparel, as if the
great day of resurrection had already come, and the tenants
of the dreary tombs had burst the fetters of the grave, and
come forth into new life and beauty.
I had received an invitation from the governor to ride in
his suite ; and, while waiting for him at the gate, the terrible
Abougos, with his retainers, came out and beckoned me to
join him. I followed him over the Brook Kedron and the
Valley of Jehoshaphat to the Garden of Gethsemane, where
I stopped, and, giving my horse to an Arab boy, I stepped

PILGRIMAGE TO THE JORDAN- 229
over the low fence, and, seating myself on the jutting root
of the tree marked by the knives of pilgrims as that under
which our Saviour was betrayed, looking over the heads of
the Turkish women seated on the fence below, I saw the
whole procession streaming from the gate, crossing the
Valley of Jehoshaphat, and filing along the foot of the gar
den. They were on foot and on horseback, on donkeys,
mules, dromedaries, and camels, and here and there were
well-equipped caravans, with tents and provisions for the
monks of the different convents. It would be impossible
to give any idea of this strange and extraordinary proces
sion ; here might be seen a woman on horseback, with a
child on each arm ; there a large pannier on each side of
a mule, with a man in one and a woman in the other ; or a
large frame on the high back of a camel, like a diminutive
ark, carrying a whole family, with all their quilts, coverlets,
cooking utensils, &c. Among them, riding alone on a
raw-boned horse, was a beggarly Italian, in a worn and
shabby European dress, with a fowling-piece and a game-
bag, and everybody made Way for hira ; and there was a gen
eral laugh wherever he came. And now a body of Turkish
horsemen, with drawn cimeters in their hands, rushed out
of the gate, dashed down the valley and up the sides of the
mountains at full gallop, clearing the way for the governor ;
and then came the governor himself, under a salute from
the fortress, on a horse of the best blood of Arabia, riding
as if he were part of the noble animal, preceded by the
music of the Turkish drum, and bowing with a nobility and
dignity of manner known only in the East, and which I
marked the more particularly, as he stopped opposite to me
and beckoned to me to join him. Then came the pilgrims
again, and I sat there till the last had gone by. Galloping
back to the gate, I turned to look at them for the last time,
a living, moving mass of thousands, thousands of miles
from their homes, bound for the sacred Jordan, and strong
Vol. II.— U

230 INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL.
in the faith that, bathing in its hallowed waters, they should
wash away their sins.
In a few moments I was at the convent ; and, sending
Paul before me to the Damascus Gate, I went to take my
leave of the superior. He told me that, though I was an
American (the only Americans he had seen were mission
aries, and he did not like them), he liked me ; and, bidding
me a kind and affectionate farewell, he put into my hands
a pilgrim's certificate, which follows in these words —

PILGRIM S CERTIFICATE.

231

FR. FRANCISCUS XAVERros A MELITA.
OXDINIS HINOKUH REGULAKIS OBSERVANTI.aS S. P. N. FRANCISCI ; CHS-
TODI.a; MELITENSIS LECTOR THEOLOOUS ; EI-DEFINITO J SACRA OON-
GRBOATIONIS PROPAQANDJE FIDEI RESPONSALIS ; MI8S10NDM MBYrTl
ET CYPRI PR,a;FECTDS ; IN PARTIBUS ORIENTIS COMMISSABIUS APOS-
TOLICUS ; SACRI MONTIS SION, ET SANCTISSIMI SEPULCRl D. N. JESU
CHRISTI GUARDIANUS ; TOTIUS TERRJi: SANOT,ffi GUSTOS, VISITATOR,
ET HUMIUS IN DOMINO SEBVUS !
Illustrissimo Domino **»* * ?«»**«»*^ Americano hbenter hoc
presens testimonium damus, et omnibus, ac singulis hos praesentes
nostras litteras lecturis, vel inspecturis notum, iidemque facimus, Lau-
datum lUustrissimum Dominum Jerusalem pervenisse, et omnia prin-
cipaliora loca, quse in tota Palestina visitari solent, presertim Ssm
Sepulchrum Dom. N. Jesu Christi, Calvarije Montem, Priesepium
Betlehemiticum., etc., visitasse. Et quod ita sit, attestationem manu
nostra snbscribimus, et sigillo majori officii nostri munitam expediri
mandamus. Datis Jerusalem, ex hoc Venerabili Conventu Sancti Salvatoris die.
3 Aprilis, Anno Domini 18 trigesimo-sexto.
Fr. Franciscus Xaverius a Melita, Cus" Terrae Sanctae.

De Mandate Rendmi in Xpto Patris,
FR. PERPETUUS A SOLERIO
SecretariuB Terras Sancts.

232

INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL.

Which, being interpreted, is as follows : —
Brother Francis Xavier, of Malta, of the order of monks of the
regular rule of our Father Saint Francis ; theological reader of the
order of Malta ; expounder, missionary of the Sacred Congregation for
propagating the faith ; Prefect of the Missions of Egypt and Cyprus ;
apostolical commissary in the Eastern world ; guardian of the holy
Mount Zion and of the most Holy Sepulchre of our Lord Jesus Christ ;
keeper apd visiter of all the Holy Land, and humble servant in the
Lord :
To the most illustrious Lord ***» * ********^ an American, we
give this present testimonial ; and to all and every one who shall read
or inspect these our present letters, we do make known and certify
that this celebrated and most illustrious lord has come through Jerusa
lem, and has visited all the principal places which are accustomed to
be visited in all Palestine, especially the most Holy Sepulchre of our
Lord Jesus Christ, the Mount of Calvary, the Convent at Bethlehem,
&c. ; and that it is so we subscribe this attestation with our hand, and
cause it to be put forth fortified by the great seal of our office.
Given at Jerusalem, from this venerable convent of the Holy Saviour,
on the third day of April, in the year of our Lord one thousand eight
hundred and thirty-six.
Brother Francis Xavier, of Malta, Guardian of the Holy Land.

Given by command, in the private office of the Father,
FRANCIS A SOLERIO,
Perpetual Secretary of the Holy Land.

THE TOMB OF SAMUEL. 233
Whereby the reader will see, that whatever raay be his fate
hereafter, a pilgrimage to the holy city gives a man tem
poral honours, and has transformed a republican citizen of
America into an " illustrissimus dorainus."
With this evidence of ray pilgrira character, I mounted
my horse for the last time at the door of the convent. I
lost my way in going to the Damascus Gate, but a friendly
Jew conducted me to it ; a Jew was the first to welcome
me to the Holy Land, and a Jew was the last to speed me
on my way from the holy city of Jerusalem. Paul was
waiting for me ; and for half a mile we passed mounds of
ruins, the walls of the old city having extended some dis
tance beyond the Damascus Gate. In about three quarters
of an hour, a little to the right, we carae to what are called
the Tombs of the Judges, excavations in the rock, one of
them full of water. I have no satisfaction in the recollec
tion of these tombs, for there I lost my old companion, the
terror of evil dogs, my Nubian club ; which, since I bought
it in Nubia, had seldom been out of my hand. In about
three hours we were mounting Djebel Sarayel, the highest
mountain about Jerusalem, crowned with the ruins of Ramah,
the birthplace and tomb of Sarauel the seer. A few Arab
huts are around the ruins ; and a ruined raosque, the min
aret of which has fallen, is the most prominent building on
the mountain. We entered the mosque ; at the farther end
was a door locked, but with the key in it. I turned the
key and entered a dark chamber. By the light from the
door I could see at the far end a dark, sombre-looking
object, and groped my way to the tomb of Samuel ; I kept
my hands on it, and walked around it ; and, hearing some of
the villagers at the door, I tore off a piece of the pall, as I
had done from the tomb of Aaron, and hurried out. I
stopped for a moment on the top of the mountain, and, look
ing back towards the holy city, saw for the last time the
Mosque of Omar, rising proudly over the ruins of the Tern-
U2

234 INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL.
pie of Solomon, the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, the
walls of Jerusalem, and the Dead Sea. My first view of
this latter had been from the tomb of Aaron ; and I con
sidered it a not uninteresting coincidence that I was now
looking upon it for the last time from the tomb of Samuel.
In about an hour, riding over a rough road, we came to
the village of Beer, supposed to be the Beer to which Jotham
fled " for fear of his brother Abimelech." A ruined khan
was at the entrance of the village, and near it a large fount
ain, at which the women were washing. About an hour
beyond this, to the right, on a little elevation, are the ruins
of Beteel, the ancient Bethel. It was here that the bears
carae out and tore in pieces the children that raocked the
bald-headed prophet Elisha, and it was here that Jacob
took " the stones of the place for his pillow, and dreamed,
and beheld a ladder reaching to heaven, and the angels of
God ascending and descending thereon." Though sur
rounded by stony mountains, it was prettily situated ; I rode
among the ruins without dismounting. The place was sol
itary and deserted, and not a human being appeared to dwell
in it. At one end were the ruins of a church, and near it
was a large fountain in a stone reservoir ; a single cow
was drinking at the fountain, and at the moraent a boy was
driving past a fiock of goats to his village horae in the
mountains. He was a Christian, and called rae Christian
and hadji or pilgrim, and gave me a wild flower which he
plucked from under my horse's feet. It was a beautiful
afternoon, and all was so still and quiet that I felt strongly
tempted to lie down and sleep where Jacob did ; but I had
given away my tent and camp equipage, and I reflected that
while I was sure of the patriarch's pillow of stone, I had
but little prospect of being blessed with the promise that
softened it, " that the land on which he lay should be given
to him and his seed, and that in him all the families of the
earth should be blessed."

VILLAGE OP EINBROOT. 233
In about an hour we came to the village of Einbroot,
prettily situated on an eminence, and commanding on all
sides a view of fertile and well-cultivated valleys. We
Were looking for Einbroot, and as the village to which we
had come lay a little off the road, we were not sure it was
the place we wanted. A woman told us it was not, a man
assured us that the sheik was not at home, and there seemed
clearly a disposition to send us on farther ; and this deter
mined us to stop. We rode up to the village and inquired
for the sheik ; the villagers gave us evasive answers, one
saying that he was away, and another that he was sick;
but a little boy, pointing with his finger, told us that he was
there, praying ; and, looking up, we saw him on the top of
.he house, on his knees, praying with all his might, and oc
casionally looking over his shoulder at us. By his not
coming to welcome me, I saw that he did not wish me to
stay ; and, after my scenes with the Bedouins in the desert,
having a comparative contempt for dwellers in houses, I
dismounted and sat down, determined to see who would get
tired first. In the mean time the villagers gathered around,
as spectators of our contest, and the sheik, as if ashamed
of himself, at length finished his prayers and came down to
receive me. He told me that he had no place for us, and
showed me to a large room, fifty or sixty feet square, which
seemed to be the coraraon resort and sleeping-place of all
who had no particular home. After the comforts of the
convent at Jerusalein, I did not like the looks of things in
the beginning of my journey ; but, consoling myself with
the reflection that it was only for one night, I spread my
mat in a comer, and had just time to stroll around the vil
lage before dark.
The houses were built of rough stone, a single story in
height, with mud roofs, many of thefn overgrown with grass,
and now presenting, towards sundown, the singularly pictu
resque spectacle, which I had often noticed in Syria, of the

236 INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL.
inhabitants sitting out upon the terraces and roofs of their
houses, or, perhaps, the still more striking picture of a single
old white-bearded, patriarchal figure sitting alone upon his
housetop. One of these venerable personages called me
up to his side ; and I was well rewarded for my trouble,
and could fully appreciate the satisfaction with which the
old man, day after day, looked out upon the beautiful and
well-cultivated valley, the terraces, and the smiling villages
on the mountain side.
Several of the villagers were following us, and among
them a fine old man, the brother of the sheik, and formerly
sheik himself. He told me that, since the stormy tiraes of
Mohammed Aly, he had resigned the sheikdom, and com
forted himself for the loss of station in the arras of a young
wife ; and before we parted we were on such good terms
that he told me the reason of their unwillingness to receive
us ; namely, that they thought we were ofiicers of Moham
med Aly, sent to spy out their condition, and ascertain the
number of their men able to bear arms ; but, satisfied that
we were merely travellers, and warmed by my honest dis
claimer of the imputed character, he invited me to his
house, and both he, and the sheik, and all the villagers
seemed striving now to atone for the churlishness of their
first reception.
The old man was as kind as a man could be ; in fact, his
kindness oppressed me ; for, having but one room in his
house, he sent both his wives out of doors to sleep at a
neighbour's. In vain I told him not to disarrange himself
on my account ; to make no stranger of me ; to let thera stay ;
and that it was nothing to me if the whole harem of the
sultan was there j he was positive and decided. I cate
chised hira about his wives, and he said that he had been a
poor man all his life, and could never afford to keep more
than one till lately ; and now the companion of his youth
and the sharer of his poverty was thrust away into a corner,

DEPARTURE FROM JUDEA. 237
while with all simplicity and honesty he showed me the
best place in the house, appropriated to his young bride.
He talked as if it had been the hardest thing in the world
that he had been obliged to content himself so long with his
first wife. Thus, it seems, that here, as with us, extrava
gance comes with wealth ; and whereas with us, when a
man grows rich, he adds another pair of horses to his es
tablishment, so the honest Mussiilman indulges hiraself
with another helpraate.
Two Turks and an Arab slept in the room with us ; and
before going to bed, that is, before lying down on the mud
floor, and the first thing in the morning, they turned their
faces to the tomb of the Prophet, kneeled down and prayed.
In the evening one of them had complained of a headache,
and another, standing over him and pressing his temples
with the palms of his hands, repeated a verse of the Koran,
and the headache went away. I asked him whether that
was good for a sore throat ; he told rae that it was, but, after
giving me a verse or two, said that his remedy could only
have full effect upon true believers.
Early in the morning I set off, my host and the sheik
and half the village gathering around me to bid me farewell
and invoke blessings upon me. I did not know the extent
of the sacrifice my host had made for me until at the mo
ment of parting, when I got a glimpse of his young wife.
We were now entering the region of Samaria, and, though
the mountains were yet stony, a beautiful country was
opening before us. We soon came into a smiling val
ley full of large olive-trees, and rode for some time in a
pleasant shade. Everywhere we were meeting streams of
pure water, tempting us perpetually to dismount after the
sandy desert through which we had been so long travelling.
We passed, too, several villages, araong which I reraember
was the village of Cowara, beautifully situated on the side
of the mountain, overlooking a fertile valley, and all the

238 INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL.
women of the village were in the field picking the tares
from the grain.
I was now about entering one of the most interesting
countries in the Holy Land, consecrated by the presence of
our Saviour in the body, and by the exercise of his divine
and miraculous powers. The Bible was again in my hand,
and I read there that Jesus Christ had left " Judea and de
parted into Galilee ; that he must needs pass through Sa
maria, and that he came to a city of Samaria called Sychar,
near to the parcel of ground that Jacob gave to his son Jo
seph." And " Jacob's well was there, and Jesus, being weary
with his journey, sat down on the well, and it was about
the sixth hour. And there cometh a woraan of Samaria to
draw water ; and Jesus saith unto her, Give me to drink."
It is with no irreverent feeling that I draw the parallel,
but I was following in the very footsteps of the Saviour ; 1
too had left " Judea, and had departed into Galilee ;" I too
" must needs go through Samaria ;'' and I too was now
coming to the city of Samaria called Sychar, and, before en
tering the city, I would fain sit down on the well of Jacob,
where our Saviour talked with the Samaritan woman.
At Cowara I took a guide to conduct.me to this well. In
about two hours we were winding along the side of Mount
Gerizim, whose summit was covered with the white dome
of the tomb of an Arab saint ; and passing one well on the
declivity of the mountain, going down to the valley at its
base, we came to Jacob's well, or the Beer Samarea of the
Arabs. I knew that there was a difference of opinion as to
the precise site of this interesting monument ; but, when I
found myself at the mouth of this well, I had no wish to
look farther ; I could feel and realize the whole scene ; I
could see our Saviour coming out from Judea, and travelling
along this valley ; I could see him, wearied with his jour
ney, sitting down on this well to rest, and the Samaritan
woman, as I saw them at every town in the Holy Land,

MOUNTS GERIZIM AND EBAL. 239
coming out for water. I could imagine his looking ip to
Mount Gerizim, and predicting the ruin of the temple, and
telling her that the hour was coming when neither on that
mountain nor yet in Jerusalem would she worship the God
of her fathers. A large column lay across the top of the
well, and the mouth was filled up with huge stones. I
could see the water through the crevices ; but, even with the
assistance of Paul and the Arabs, found it impossible to re
move them. I plucked a wild flower growing in the mouth
of the well, and passed on.
The ground which I was now treading is supposed to be
the " parcel of ground" which Jacob bought of the sons of
Hamor, the father of Shechem, for a hundred pieces of sil
ver, and gave to his son Joseph. Turning the point of the
mountain, we came to a rich valley, lying between the
mountains of Gerizim and Ebal. Crossing this valley, on
the sides of the mountains of Ebal is a long range of grot
toes and tombs, and a little before coming to them, in a
large white building like a sheik's tomb, is the sepulchre
of Joseph, as it is written, " the bones also of Joseph, which
the children of Israel brought up with them out of Egypt,
buried they in Shechem." I dismounted and entered the
building, and it is a not uninteresting fact that I found there
a white-bearded Israelite, kneeling at the tomb of the pa
triarch, and teaching a rosy-cheeked boy (his descendant of
the fourth generation) the beautiful story of Joseph and his
brethren. It was late in the afternoon when I was moving up the
valley of Naplous. The mountains of Gerizim and Ebal,
the mountains of blessings and curses, were towering like
lofty walls on either side of me ; Mount Gerizim fertile,
and Mount Ebal barren, as when God coraraanded Joshua
to set up the stones in Mount Ebal, and pronounced on
Mount Gerizim blessings upon the children of Israel " if
they would hearken diligently unto the voice of the Lord,

240 INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL.
to observe and do all his commandments,"* and on Ebal
the withering curses of disobedience. A beautiful stream,
in two or three places filling large reservoirs, was running
through the valley, and a shepherd sat on its bank, playing
a reed pipe, with his flock feeding quietly around him. The
shades of evening were gathering fast as I approached
the town of Naplous, the Shechem or Sychem of the Old
Testament, and the Sychar of the New. More than a
dozen lepers, were sitting outside the gate, their faces
shining, pimpled and bloated, covered with sores and
pustules, their nostrils open and filled with ulcers, and
their red eyes fixed and staring; with swollen feet they
dragged their disgusting bodies towards me, and with
hoarse voices extended their deformed and hideous hands
for charity.
We rode up the principal street, and at the door of the
palace I met the governor just mounting his horse, with a
large retinue of ofiicers and slaves around him. We ex
changed our greetings on horseback. I showed him my
firman, and he sent a janizary to conduct me to the house
of a Samaritan, a writer to the government, where I was
received, fed, and lodged better than in any other place in
the Holy Land, always excepting the abodes of those suf
fering martyrs, the Terra Santa monks.
I had just time to visit the Samaritan synagogue. Leav
ing my shoes at the door, with naked feet I entered a small
room, about fifteen feet square, with nothing striking or in
teresting about it except what the Samaritans say is the
oldest manuscript in the world, a copy of the Pentateuch,
written by Abishua, the grandson of Aaron, three years after
the death of Moses, or about three thousand three hundred
years ago. The priest was a man of forty-five, and gave
me but a poor idea of the character of the Samaritans, for
he refused to show me the sacred scroll unless I would pay
* Deuteronomy xxviii., 1.

AN ANTIQUE MANUSCRIPT. 241
him first. He then brought down an old manuscript, which,
very much to his astonishment, I told him was not the gen
uine record ; giving hira very plainly to understand that I
was not to be bamboozled in the matter. I had been ad
vised of this trick by the English clergyman whom 1 met in
Jerusalem ; and the priest, laughing at my detection of the
cheat, while some of his hopeful flock who had followed me
joined in the laugh, brought down the other preserved in a
tin case. It was written in some character I did not under
stand, said to be the Samaritan, tattered and worn, and
bearing the marks of extreme age ; and, though I knew no
thing about it, I admitted it to be the genuine manuscript ;
and they all laughed when I told the priest what a rogue he
was for trying to deceive me ; and this priest they believe
to be of the tribe of Levi, of the seed of Aaron. If I had
left Naplous then I should probably have repeated the words
that our Saviour applied to them in his day, " no good thing
can come out of Samaria ;" but I spent a long evening, and
had an interesting conversation with my host and his broth
er, and in their kindness, sincerity, and honesty, forgot the
petty duplicity of the Levite.
Much curiosity has existed in Europe araong the learned
with regard to this singular people, and several of the
most eminent men of their day, in London and Paris, have
had correspondence with them, but without any satisfactory
result. The descendants of the Israelites who remained
and were not carried into captivity, on the rebuilding of the
second temple were denied the privilege of sharing the la
bour and expense of its reconstruction at Jerusalem, and,
in mortification and revenge, they built a temple on Mount
Gerizim, and ever since a deadly hatred has existed between
their descendants the Samaritans and the Jews. Gibbon,
speaking of them in the time of Justinian, says, "The Sama
ritans of Palestine were a motley race, an ambiguous sect,
rejected as Jews by the pagans, by the Jews as schismatics,
Vol. II.— X

242 INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL.
and by the Christians as idolaters. The abomination of
the cross had already been planted on their holy mount of
Gerizim, but the persecution of Justinian offered only the
alternative of baptism or rebellion. They chose the latter ;
under the standard of a desperate leader, they rose in arms
and retaliated their wrongs on the lives, the property, and
the temples of a defenceless people. The Samaritans
were finally subdued by the regular forces of the East ;
twenty thousand were slain, twenty thousand were sold by
the Arabs to the infidels of Persia and India, and the re
mains of that unhappy nation atoned for the crime of trea
son by the sin of hypocrisy." About sixty families are all
now remaining, and these few relics of a once powerful
people still dwell in their ancient capital, at the base of
Mount Gerizim, under the shadow of their fallen temple.
The brother of my host was particularly fond of talking
about them. He was very old, and the most deformed man I
ever saw who lived to attain a great age. His legs were
long, and all his limbs were those of a tall man, but he was so
hump-backed that in sitting he rested upon his hump. He
asked me many questions about the Samaritans in England
(of America he had no knowledge), and seemed determined
to believe that there were many in that country, and told me
that I might say to them, wherever I found them, that there
they believed in one omnipotent and eternal God, the five
Books of Moses, and a future Messiah, and the day of the
Messiah's coming to be near at hand ; that they practised
circumcision, went three times a year up to Mount Gerizim,
" the everlasting mountain," to worship and offer sacrifice,
and once a year pitched their tents and left their virgins
alone on the mount for seven days, expecting that one of
them would conceive and bring forth a son, who should be
the Messiah ; that they allowed two wives, and, in case of
barrenness, four ; that the women were not permitted to en
ter the synagogue, except once a year during fast, but on

"PAAs" IN SAMARIA. 243
no account were they permitted to touch the sacred scroll ;
and that, although the Jews and Samaritans had dealings
in the market-places, &c., they hated each other now as
much as their fathers did before them.
1 asked hira about Jacob's well ; he said he knew the
place, and that he knew our Saviour, or Jesus Christ, as he
familiarly called him, very well ; he was Joseph the car
penter's son, of Nazareth ; but that the story which the
Christians had about the woraan at the well was all a fiction ;
that Christ did not convert her ; but that, on the contrary,
she laughed at him, and even refused to give him water to
drink. The information I received frora these old raen is more
than I have ever seen in print about this reduced and sin
gular people, and I give it for what it may be worth. I
cannot help mentioning a little circumstance, which serves
to illustrate the proverb that boys will be boys all the world
over. While I was exploring the mysteries of the Samaritan
creed, it being the season of Easter, a fine chubby little
fellow came to me with a couple of eggs died yellow, and
trying them on his teeth, just as we used to do in my boyish
days (did we learn it frora them or they from us 1) — gave
me a choice ; and, though it may seem a trifling incident
to the reader, it was not an uninteresting circurastance to
me, this celebration of ray " paas" in the ancient Sychem,
cracking eggs with a Samaritan boy.

S44 INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL.

CHAPTER XVIII.
Sebaste. — Ruins of the Palace of Herod. — Mount Tabor. — Nazareth. —
Scriptural Localities. — Tiberias. — An English Sportsman. — Bethsaida
and Chorazin. — Capernaum. — Zaffad. — ^Arrival at Acre.
At about eight o'clock in the morning we left Naplous ;
the lepers were lying at the gate as before ; not permitted
to enter the walls of the city, but living apart and perpetu
ating among themselves their loathsome race. The valley
of Naplous was, if possible, more beautiful by morning than
by evening light, shaded by groves of figs, olives, almonds,
and apricots in full bloom, and bounded by lofty mountains,
with a clear and beautiful stream winding and murmuring
through its centre. Until I came to this place I had fre
quently said to mySelf that I would not give the estate of a
wealthy gentleman in Geneseo for the whole kingdom of
David ; but there was a rare and extraordinary beauty here,
even in the hands of the Arab Fellahs. Men and women
were stealing among the trees, in gayly-coloured apparel,
and, instead of the turban or tarbouch, the men wore a long
red cap, with the tassel hanging jantily like that of a Neapol
itan. For more than an hour we followed the course of the
stream, and nothing could be more beautifully picturesque
than the little mills on its banks ; low, completely imbo-
somed among trees, and with their roofs covered with grass,
and sometiraes the agreeable sound of a waterfall was the
first intimation we had of their presence. There was
something exceedingly rural and poetic in their appearance.
I went down to one of thera, more than usually beautiful,
hoping to be greeted by some lovely "maid of the mill;"

TPMB OF JOHN THE BAPTIST. 245
but, as if it were determined that everything like illusion in
the East should be destroyed for my especial benefit, the
sight of one chamber, filled with sacks of grain, sheep and
goats, and all kinds of filth, and a young girl sitting in the
door, with the head of an old woman in her lap, occupied as
is constantly seen in every miserable town in Italy, drove
me away perfectly disgusted.
Leaving the valley, we turned up to the right, and, cross- '
ing among the mountains, in two hours carae in sight of the
ruins of Sebaste, the ancient Samaria, standing upon a sin
gularly bold and insulated mountain, crowned with ruins.
The capital of the ten tribes of Israel, where Ahab built his
palace of ivory; where, in the days of Jereboam, her citizens
sat in the lap of luxury, saying to their masters " come and
let us drink," destroyed by the Assyrians, but rebuilt and
restored to more than its original splendour by Herod, now
lies in the state foretold by the prophet Amos ; " her inhab
itants and their posterity are taken away." The ancient
Samaritans are all gone, and around the ruins of their pal
aces and temples are gathered the miserable huts of the
Arab Fellahs. Clirabing up the precipitous ascent of the
hill, we carae to the ruins of a church, or tower, or some
thing else, built by our old friend the Lady Helena, and seen
to great advantage from the valley below. The Lady Hel
ena, however, did not put together all this stone and mortar
for the picturesque alone ; it was erected over, and in hon
our of, the prison where John the Baptist was beheaded,
and his grave. I knew that this spot was guarded with jeal
ous care by the Arabs, and that none but Mussulmans were
permitted to see it ; but this did not prevent my asking ad
mission ; and, when the lame sheik said that none could en
ter without a special order from the pacha, Paul rated him
soundly for thinking we would be such fools as to come
without one ; and, handing him our travelling firraan, the
sheik kissed the seal, and, utterly unable to determine for
X2

246 INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL.
himself whether the order was to furnish me with horses
or admit me to mosques, said he knew he was bound to
obey that seal, and do whatever the bearer told him, and
hobbled off to get the key.
Leaving our shoes at the door, in one corner of the en
closure, we entered a small mosque with whitewashed walls,
hung with ostrich eggs, clean mats for the praying Mussul
mans, a sort of pulpit, and the usual recess of the Kebla.
In the centre of the stone floor was a hole opening to the
prison below, and, going outside, and descending a flight of
steps, we came to the prison chamber, about eight paces
square ; the door, now broken and leaning against the wall,
like the doors in the sepulchres of the kings at Jerusalem,
was a slab cut frora the solid stone, and turning on a pivot.
On the opposite side were three sraall holes, opening to
another chamber, which was the tomb of the Baptist. I
looked in, but all was dark ; the Mussulman told me that
the body only was there ; that the prophet Was beheaded at
the request of the wife of a king, and I forget where he
said the head was. This may be the prison where the
great forerunner of the Lord was beheaded ; at least no man
can say that it is not ; and leaving it with the best disposi
tion to believe, I ascended to the ruined palace of Herod,
his persecutor and murderer. Thirty or forty columns
were still standing, the monuments of the departed great
ness of its former tenant. On one side, towards the north
east, where are the ruins of a gate, there is a double range
of Ionic colurans. I counted more than sixty, and, from the
fragments I was constantly meeting, it would seem as if a
double colonnade had extended all around.
The palace of Herod stands on a table of land, on the
very summit of the hill, overlooking every part of the sur
rounding country ; and such were the exceeding softness and
beauty of the scene, even under the wildness and waste of
Arab cultivation, that the city seemed smiling in the midst

RUINS OF THE PALACE OF HEROD. 247
of her desolation. All around was a beautiful valley, watered
by running streams, and covered by a rich carpet of grass,
sprinkled with wild flowers of every hue, and beyond,
stretched like an open book before rae, a boundary of fruit
ful mountains, the vine and the olive rising in terraces to
their very summits ; there, day after day, the haughty Herod
had sat in his royal palace ; and looking out upon all these
beauties, his heart had become hardened with prosper
ity ; here, among these still towering columns, the proud
monarch had made a supper " to his lords, and high cap
tains, and chief estates of Galilee ;" here the daughter of
Herodias, Herod's brother's wife, " danced before him, and
the proud king promised with an oath to give her whatever
she should ask, even to the half of his kingdom." And
while the feast and dance went on, the " head of John the
Baptist was brought in a charger and given to the damsel."
And Herod has gone, and Herodias, Herod's brother's wife,
has gone, and " the lords, and the high captains, and the
chief estates of Galilee" are gone ; but the ruins of the
palace in which they feasted are still here ; the mountains
and valleys which beheld their revels are here ; and oh,
what a comment upon the vanity of worldly greatness, a
fellah was turning his plough around one of the columns, I
was sitting on a broken capital under a fig-tree by its side,
and I asked him what were the ruins that we saw ; and
while his oxen were quietly cropping the grass that grew
among the fragments of the marble floor, he told rae that
they were the ruins of the palace of a king — he believed,
of the Christians ; and while pilgriras frora every quarter of
the world turn aside from their path to do homage in the
prison of his beheaded victim, the Arab who was driving
his plough among the columns of his palace knew not the
name of the haughty Herod. Even at this distance of time
I look back with a feeling of uncommon interest upon my
ramble among those ruins, talking with the Arab ploughman

248 INCIDENTS OP TRAVEL.
of the king who built it, leaning against a column which
perhaps had often supported the haughty Herod, and look
ing out from this scene" of desolation and ruin upon the
most beautiful country in the Holy Land.
Descending from the ruined city, we continued our way
along the valley. In about an hour we carae to the village
of Beteon, standing on the side of a raountain, overlooking
a fertile valley : the women were in the fields, as I had
seen them before, picking the tares from the wheat. Riding
along through a succession of beautiful valleys, nearly all
the way close to the banks of a running stream, and stop
ping under a fine shade of olives for our noonday meal, we
carae to Sanpoor, standing on an insulated hill, coramand-
ing an extensive view of the country, and once a strongly
fortified place, with a tower and walls, supposed to have
been built during the time of the crusades, but now totally
demolished and in ruins. About three years ago it was
taken, after a six months' siege, by Abdall-ah Pacha, the
great soldier of the sultan : the insurgent inhabitants were
put to the sword, and their houses burnt and razed to the
ground. A little beyond this, the continued falls of rain
have formed a small lake. In an hour and a half we passed
the village of Abattia ; and late in the afternoon we fell in
with a party of Turkish travellers, one of whom was the
" biggest in the round" of all the men I had seen in the
East. His noble horse seemed to complain of his extraor
dinary burden. At about six o'clock we had left the beau
tiful country of Samaria, and were entering the little town
of Jennin, or Janeen, standing on the borders of Galilee,
at the coramencement of the great plain of Jezreel.
Early in the morning, leaving. the village of Janeen, wo
entered almost immediately the great plain of Jezreel. The
holy places were now crowding upon me in rapid succes
sion. I was on my way to Nazareth, the city of Joseph
and Mary, where Christ spent nearly all his life ; but I

MOUNT TABOR. 249
turned off the direct road to do homage on Mount Tabor,
recognised as the scene of our Saviour's transfiguration.
We passed two miserable villages, looking at a distance
like little mounds or excrescences on the surface of the
great plain ; and, turning to the right, around the mountains
of Samaria, saw afar off the lofty summit of Hermon,
crowned with a sheik's tomb. On the right, towards the
Sea of Galilee, was the village of Bisan, the Bethshan of
the Bible, where the Philistines fastened the bodies of Saul
and his three sons to the walls after they had fallen in
Mount Gilboa.*
Before us, and the most striking and imposing object on the
whole of the great plain of Esdraelon, was Mount Tabor.
It stands perfectly isolated ; rising alone frora the plain in
a rounded tapering forra, like a truncated cone, to the height
of three thousand feet, covered with trees, grass, and wild
flowers from the base to its sumrait, and presenting the
combination so rarely found in natural scenery of the bold
and the beautiful. At twelve o'clock we were at the mis
erable village of Deborah, at the foot of the mountain, sup
posed to be the place where Deborah the prophetess, who
then judged Israel, and Barak and " ten thousand men after
him, descended upon Sisera, and discomfited him and all his
chariots, even nine hundred chariots of iron, and all the
people that were with hira." The raen and boys had all
gone out to their daily labour, and we tried to persuade a wo
man to guide us to the top of the mountain, but she turned
away with contempt ; and, having had some practice in
clirabing, we moved around its sides until we found a reg
ular path, and ascended nearly to the top without dismount
ing. The path wound around the mountain, and gave us
a view from all its different sides, every step presenting
something new, and more and more beautiful, until all
was completely forgotten and lost in the exceeding love-
* Joshua, xvii,, 11 ; 1 Samuel, xxxi., 12; Kings, iv., 12.

250 INCIDENTS OP TRAVEL.
liness of the view from the summit. Stripped of every as
sociation, and considered merely as an elevation command
ing a view of unknown valleys and mountains, I never saw
a mountain which, for beauty of scene, better repaid the
toil of' ascending it ; and I need not say what an interest
was given to every feature when we saw in the valley be
neath the large plain of Jezreel, the great battle-ground of
nations ; on the south the supposed range of Herraon, with
whose dews the psalraist corapares the "pleasantness of
brethren dwelling together in unity ;" beyond, the ruined
village of Endor, where dwelled the witch who raised up
the prophet Samuel; and near it the little city of Nain,
where our Saviour raised from the dead the widow's son ;
on the east, the mountains of Gilboa, " where Saul, and his
armour-bearer, and his three sons fell upon their swords, to
save themselves from falling into the hands of the Philis
tines ;" beyond, the Sea of Galilee, or Lake of Genesareth,
the theatre of- our Saviour's miracles, where, in the fourth
watch of the night, he appeared to his terrified disciples,
walking on the face of the waters ; and to the north, on a
lofty eminence, high above the top of Tabor, the city of
Saphet, supposed to be the ancient Bethulia, alluded to in
the words " a city that is set on a hill cannot be hid."'
But, if the tradition be true, we need not go beyond
the mountain itself, for it was on this high mountain
that " Jesus Christ took Peter, and James, and John his
brother apart," and gave them a glimpse of his glory be
fore his death, when " his face did shine as the sun, and
his raiment was white as the light; and a voice out of
the cloud was heard, saying, This is my beloved son,
in whom I am well pleased." I stood on the very spot
where this holy scene was enacted. Within the walls of
an old fortress is a ruined grotto, with three altars, built as
Peter had proposed, one for Christ, one for Moses, and one
for Elias ; Where, once a year, the monks of the convent,

CITY OF NAZARETH. 251
and all the Christians of Nazareth, ascending in solemn pro
cession, offer adoration and praise to the Saviour of the
world. The top of the mountain is an oval, about half a
mile long, and encompassed by a wall built by Josephus
when he was governor of Galilee ; within this enclosure is
a table of luxuriant grass and wild flowers, sending forth
such an odour, and looking so clean and refreshing, that,
when ray horse lay down and rolled in it, I felt the spirit
of boyhood coraing over me again, and was strongly tempted
to follow his example.
We descended and hurried on towards Nazareth. Wind
ing along the valley, an accidental turn brought the mount
ain again full before me, alone, and strongly defined against
the sky ; the figure of a man could have been seen standing
on the top as on a pedestal. I know not whether, in the
splendid effort of Raphael that now adorns the Vatican, he
had any idea of this particular mountain ; but I remember
that, looking back upon it at this tirae, it struck me that it
was exactly the scene which the daring genius of the painter
might have selected for the transfiguration of the Son of God.
In two hours and a half we were in the vale of Naszera,
and approaching the city of Nazareth. The valley is fer
tile, surrounded by hills, and the city stands at the extreme
end on the side of an elevation. The houses are white,
and in the place of Christ's residence, as of his birth, the
mosque with its minaret is the most conspicuous object,
'and next to that the convent. A little on this side is a
Greek church, built, as the Greeks say, over the spot
where the angel Gabriel appeared to the Virgin Mary, and
announced to her the birth of a son "of whose kingdom
there should be no end." A little farther is a fountain,
where the Virgin is said to have been in the habit of going
for water ; a procession of women, with large jars on their
heads, was coming out from the city, and one of them, a
Christian woman, gave us to drink ; a comfortable-looking

252 INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL.
monk, taking his afternoon's promenade in the suburbs,
was the first to greet us, and, following him, we dismounted
at the door of the convent — one of the largest in the Holy
Land. In the city where Joseph and Mary lived, and where our
Saviour passed thirty years of his life, there is of course
no lack of holy places, and, as in the case of the Church of
the Holy Sepulchre, as many of these places as possible
have, with admirable economy, been brought under one roof.
The Church of the Annunciation, within the walls of the
coiivent, next to the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, is the
finest in the Holy Land. There are two organs, and the
walls and pillars are hung with red damask. Under the
principal altar is the house of Joseph and Mary, consisting
of several grottoes, kitchen, parlour, and bedroom. In front
of the same altar are two granite colurans, designating the
spots where the angel and the Virgin stood at the time of
the annunciation. One of them is broken off below, and
the upper part hangs from the roof — the monks say by a
miracle, but others by mortar; and all over Galilee the
miracidous pillar is celebrated for its virtue in curing dis
eases. Outside the convent are the workshop where Jo
seph wrought at his carpenter's trade, and the synagogue
where Christ, by reading the book of Isaiah and applying to
himself the words of the prophet, so exasperated the Jews
that they rose up and thrust him out of the city. A lamp
was burning dimly at the altar, and an Arab Christian pros-'
trating himself before it ; and, lastly, I saw the table on
which, say the monks, our Lord dined with his disciples
both before and after the resurrection, a large- flat stone
about three feet high, and fifteen paces in circumference.
I was about knocking off a piece as a memorial, when the
friar checked me, and, turning round a nail in one of the
many holes in the surface, he worked off a little powder,
laid it carefully in a paper, and gave it me

SCRIPTURAL LOCALITIES. 253
In my humour there was no great interest in visiting
these so called holy places ; but here was the city in which
our Saviour had been brought up ; 1 could walk in the same
streets where he had walked, and look out upon the same
hills and valleys ; and a man of warm and impassioned piety
might imagine that, in breathing the same atmosphere, he
was drawing nearer to the person of the Saviour. I went
back to the convent, joined the monks at vespers, listened
to the solemn chant and the majestic tones of the organ,
and went to bed.
Early in the morning, changing for the first time the
horses with which I had come from Jerusalem, I took a
Christian of Nazareth for my guide, and started for Tibe
rias and the Sea of Gahlee. In about an hour we came to
Cana of Galilee, where our Saviour performed his first mir
acle by turning water into wine. At the entrance of the
village is a fountain, where the women were drawing
water in large jars, and near it a Greek church, built over
the house of the young man at whose wedding the miracle
was performed. Here, too, are large stone jars, being, as
the monks say, the identical vessels in which the water
was changed. War, bloody and relentless war, has swept
over the little Cana of Galilee ; fire and sword have laid
waste and destroyed the peaceful village in which Christ
met the rejoicing wedding-party.
In about two hours, leaving Mount Hermon and Mount Ta
bor on our right, we passed through the field where the dis
ciples plucked the corn on the Sabbath day ; about half an
hour farther on is the mountain of the Beatitude, where
Christ preached the sermon on the mount. Whether the
tradition be true or no, it was just the place where, in those
primitive days, or even in the state of society which exists
now in the Holy Land, such an event might have taken
place ; the preacher standing a little distance up the hill,
and the multitude sitting down below him. Indeed, so
Vol. II.— Y

254 INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL.
Strikingly similar in all its details is the state of society ex
isting here now to that which existed in the time of our
Saviour, that I remember, when standing on the ruins of a
small church supposed to cover the precise spot where
Christ preached that compendium of goodness and wisdom,
it struck me that if I or any other man should preach new
and strange things, the people would come out from the
cities and villages to listen and dispute, as they did under
the preaching of our Lord.
Half an hour farther on we came to a large stone, on
which, tradition says, our Saviour sat when he blessed the
five loaves and two fishes, and the immense multitude ate
and were filled. These localities may be, and probably
are, mere monkish conjectures ; but one thing we know, that
our Saviour and his disciples journeyed on this road ; that he
looked upon the same scenes, and that, in all probability,
somewhere within the range of my eye these deeds and
miracles were actually performed. At all events, before
me, in full view, was the hallowed Lake of Genesareth.
Here we cannot be wrong ; Christ walked upon that sea,
and stilled the raging of its waters, and preached the ti
dings of salvation to the cities on its banks. But where are
those cities now ? Chorazin and Bethsaida, and thou too,
Capernaum, that wast exalted unto heaven ! The whole
lake is spread out before me, almost from where the Jor
dan enters unto where that hallowed stream passes on to
discharge its waters in the bituminous lake which covers
the guilty cities ; but there is no city, no habitation of man ;
all is still and quiet as the grave. But I am wrong; towards
the southern extremity of the lake I see the city of Tabbe-
reeah, the miserable relic of the ancient Tiberias, another of
the proud cities of Herod, standing on the very shore of the
sea, a mere speck in the distance, its walls and turrets, its
mosques and mina^rets telling that it is possessed by the
persecutors and oppressors of the followers of Christ.

CITY or TIBERIAS. 255
We descended the mountains, and, passing under the
walls of the city, continued on about half an hour to a large
bath erected by Ibrahim Pacha over the hot springs of Em-
maus, celebrated for their medicinal properties ; and, finding
that we could pass the night there, left our baggage and
returned to the city. The walls and circular towers, Moor
ish in their construction, gave it an imposing appearance ;
outside the gate was the tent of a harlot, that unhappy class
of woraen not being perraitted, by the Mussulraan law, to en
ter the walls ; within, all was in a most ruined and desolate
condition ; a great part being entirely vacant, and, where
the space was occupied, the houses or huts were built far
apart. Tiberias was the third of the holy cities of the Jews ;
and here, as at Jerusalem and Hebron, the unhappy remnant
of a fallen people still hover around the graves of their fa
thers, and, though degraded and trampled under foot, are still
looking for the restoration of their temporal kingdom. There
were two classes of Jews, Eastern and European, the latter
being Muscovites, Poles, and Germans ; all had come merely
to lay their bones in the Holy Land, and were now supported
by the charity of their brethren in Europe. There were two
synagogues, and two schools or colleges, and it was an in
teresting sight to see them, old men tottering on the verge
of the grave and beardless boys studying in the same mys
terious book what they believed to be the road to heaven.
I inquired for their rabbi, and they asked me whether I
meant the Asiatic or European. I told them the greater of
the two, and was conducted by a crowd to his house. I had
no difiidence in those days, and invited myself to sit down
and talk with him. He was an old man, and told me that they
were all poor, living upon precarious charity ; and that
their brethren in America were so far off that they had for
gotten the land of their fathers. Everything looked so

256 INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL.
comfortable in his house, that I tried to get an invitation to
stay all night ; but the old rabbi was too cunning for me. It
was a fete day, but my notes are so imperfect that I cannot
make out whether it was their Sabbath. All were dressed
in their best apparel, the women sitting in the doors or on
the terraces, their heads adorned with large gold and silver
ornaments, and their eyes sparkling like diamonds.
Returning, I noticed more particularly the ruins beyond
the southern wall. They extend for more than a mile,
and there is no doubt that this ground was covered by the
ancient city. The plain runs back about half a mile to the
foot of the mountain, and in the sides of the mountain are
long ranges of tombs. It was frora one of these tombs,
said our guide, that the man possessed of devils rushed
forth when our Saviour rebuked the unclean spirits, and
made them enter into a herd of swine, which ran violently
down a steep place into the sea, and were drowned.
Passing the bath, I walked on to a point where I could
see the extreme end of the lake, forming near the other side
into the Jordan. It was a beautiful evening, still and quiet
as the most troubled spirit could wish. The sides of the
mountains were green and verdant, but there were no trees,
and no rustling of the Wind among the branches ; not a boat
was upon the lake ; and, except the city of Tiberias, which,
enclosed within its walls, gave no signs of life, I was
the only living being on its shores ; I almost felt myself
alone in the world ; and surely, if ever there was a spot
where a man might be willing to live alone, it would be
there. There was no desolation, but rather beauty in the
loneliness ; and when the sun was setting I was bathing
my feet in the waters of the hallowed lake, and fast falling
into the belief that I could sit me down on its banks " the
world forgetting, by the world forgot ;" but just then I saw
filing under the walls of Tiberias a long procession of men.
They were coming to the baths of Emmaus ; and, in a few

AN ENGLISH SPORTSMAN. 257
moments, I, that was musing as if I were alone in the world,
was struggling with naked Arabs for a place in the bathing
apartment. A large bathing-house has been built over the hot springs
by Ibrahim Pacha ; a circular building, wijh a dome, like
the baths at Constantinople ; and under the dome a large
marble reservoir, twenty feet in diameter, and nearly six
feet deep, into which the Arabs slipped off from the sides
like turtles, darkening the white marble and the clear water
with their swarthy skins. I could not bear the heat, which
seemed to me scalding. A separate room, with a single
bath, had been built expressly for the precious body of
Ibrahim Pacha ; and, as he was not at hand to use it, I had
it prepared for myself. Here was a theme for moralizing !
I had stood on the top of the pyramids, on Mount Sinai, and
the shores of the Dead Sea ; I had been in close contact with
greatness in the tombs of Augustus, Agamemnon, and the
Scipios ; but what were these compared with bathing in the
same tub with the great bulldog-warrior of the East, the ter
rible Ibrahim Pacha ? I spread my rug in an adjoining cham
ber ; the long window opened directly upon the Sea of Gal
ilee ; for more than an hour ray eyes were fixed upon its
calm and silvery surface ; and the last sounds that broke
upon my ears were the murmurs of its waters.
Early in the morning we started. Stopping again at Ti
berias, the soldier at the gate told us that a European had
arrived during the night. I hunted him out; and found him
to be an Englishman, as I afterward learned, a merchant of
Damascus, and a sportsman, equipped with shppting-jacket,
gun, dog, &c. He was in a miserable hovel, and, having
just risen, was sitting apart from the Arab family ; his rug
and coverlet were lying on the mud floor not yet rolled up ;
and he seemed in a most rueful mood, objurgating all travel
for pleasure, and whistling earnestly " There's no place like
home." I knew hishumour, for I had often felt it myself, and
y a

258 INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL.
could hardly keep from laughing. He was not more than half
dressed, and reminded me of the caricature of an English
man standing in his nether garment, with a piece of cloth
in one hand and a pair of scissors in the other, as not being
resolved after what fashion to have his coat cut.
" I am an English gentleman, and naked I stand here.
Musing in my mind what raiment I shall wear ;
For now I will wear this, and now I will wear that,
And now I will wear — I cannot tell what."
We spent half an hour together, and parted. He was an
old stager, and did not travel for scenery, associations, and
all that, but he could tell every place where he had bagged
a bird, from Damascus to the Sea of Galilee.
Stopping for a moment at the only monuraent of antiquity,
the church of St. Peter, a long building, with a vaulted stone
roof, built, as the monks say, over the place where the
house of St. Peter stood, and the corner-stone laid by our
Saviour; a burly monk was in the confessional, and a
young Christian girl pouring into his greedy ears perhaps a
story of unhappy love, we left for the last time the gate*
of the city, the tent of the harlot standing there still, and
commenced our journey along the shore of the sea.
A short distance from Tiberias we crossed the point of a
mountain running down into the lake, and in about an hour
carae to a small Mohammedan village, called Magdol, sup
posed to be the Magdala into which our Saviour came when
he had sent away the multitude after feeding them with the
seven loaves and two fishes. It was along this shore that
Jesus Christ began to preach the glad tidings of salvation
to a ruined world ; eighteen hundred years ago, walking by
this sea, he saw two brethren, " Simon Peter and Andrew
his brother, casting their nets into the sea, toiling all day and
* About six months after this gate was swallowed up by an earthquake ;
the wall and the whole of that quarter of the city were thrown down and
demolished, and a great portion of the inhabitants buried under the ruins.

RUINS OF BETHSAIDA AND CHORAZIN. 259
catching no fish; and he told them to thrust forth from the
land ; and their nets brake and their ships sank with the
multitude of fish ; and he said unto them. Follow me, and I
will make you fishers of men ; and they forsook all and fol
lowed him."
We were now crossing a rich valley, through which
several streams were running and emptying into the lake ;
and towards the other end, at some distance from the sea,
we came to a small mound of crumbling bricks and stones,
almost overgrown with grass ; and this is all that remains
of the city of Bethsaida, the city of Peter, and Andrew, and
Philip. If we had diverged a hundred yards one way or
the other, I should have passed without seeing it. A short
distance off, among the hills that border the plain, alike in
ruins, is her sister city Chorazin. Leaving the valley and
crossing a rude point of the mountain, which runs boldly
to the lake, the road being so narrow that we were obliged
to unload the baggage-horse, we descended to the plains
of Genesareth, the richest and most fertile plain on the
shores of the lake, and, perhaps, for a combination of nat
ural advantages, soil, beauty of scenery, climate, and tem
perature, exceeded by no place in the world. A short dis
tance across the plain we came to a little mill, set in mo
tion by a large, clear, and beautiful stream, conveyed in
two stone aqueducts. Four or five Arab families lived
there, in huts made with palm leaves ; the men lay stretched
on the ground, lulled to sleep by the murmur of the falling
waters. From here to Talhoun, the supposed site of Capernaum,
the rich plain of Genesareth was lying a wild and luxuri
ant waste, entirely uncultivated and neglected, except in
one place, where an Arab was ploughing a small plot for
tobacco. Approaching, the single Arab footpath becomes
lost, and the road which our Saviour had often followed
upon his great errand of redemption was so overgrown

260 INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL.
with long grass, bushes, and weeds, that they rose above the
back of my horse, and I found it easier to dismount and pick
my way on foot.
The ruins of Capernaum extend more than a mile along
the shore and back towards the mountain, but they were
60 overgrown with grass and bushes that it was difficult to
move among them. Climbing upon a high wall, which,
though ruined itself, seemed proud of its pre-eminence above
the rest, I had a full view of the ruins of the city, of the
plains of Genesareth, and the whole extent of the Sea of
Galilee, from where the Jordan comes down from the
mountains until it passes out and rolls on to the Dead Sea.
It is about sixteen miles long and six wide ; at each end
is the narrow valley of the Jordan ; on the east a range of
mountains, rising, not precipitously, but rolling back from
the shore, green and verdant, but destitute of trees ; on the
west are mountains, in two places coming down to the lake,
and the rest is a rich and beautiful, but wild and uncultiva
ted plain. It was by far the most imposing view 1 had en
joyed, and I am not sure that in all my journeying in the
East I had a more interesting moment than when I sat
among the ruins of Capernaum, looking out upon the Lake
of Genesareth.
Travellers have often compared this lake with the Lake
of Geneva. I could see very little resemblance ; it is not so
large, and wants the variety of scenery of the Lake of Gene
va, and, above all, the lofty summit of Mount Blanc. The
banks of the Lake of Geneva are crowded from one end to
the other with villages and villas, and its surface is covered
with boats, and all the hurry and bustle of a travelling pop
ulation ; this is in all the wildness of nature, all neglected
and uncultivated ; and, except the little town of Tiberias,
not a habitation, not even an Arab's hut, is seen upon its
banks, not a solitary boat upon its waters. A single peli
can was floating at my feet, and, like myself, he was alone.

CAPERNAUM. 261
He was so near me that I could have hit hira with a stone ;
he was the only thing I saw that had life, and he seemed
looking at me with wonder, and asking me why I still lin
gered in the desolate city. I was looking upon the theatre
of mighty miracles ; it was here that, when a great tempest
arose, and the ship was covered with waves, and his dis
ciples cried out, " Save us, or we perish," Christ rose frora
his sleep, and rebuked the wind and the sea, and there was
a great calm ;" and here too it was that in the fourth watch
of the night he appeared to his terrified disciples, walking
on the face of the sea, and crying out to them, " It is I, be
not afraid;" and again the wind ceased, and there was a
calm. But this scene was not always so desolate. The shores
of this lake were once covered with cities, in which Christ
preached on the Sabbath day, healed the sick, gave sight
to the blind, cleansed the lepers, cast out devils, and raised
the dead. Bethsaida and Chorazin I had passed, and I was
standing among the ruins of Capernaum, the city that was
exalted to heaven in our Saviour's love ; where Christ first
raised his warning voice, saying, " Repent, for the kingdom
of heaven is at hand ;'' and I could feel the fulfilment of his
prophetic words, " Wo unto thee, Chorazin, wo unto thee
Bethsaida ; it shall be more tolerable (ot Tyre and Sidon
in the day of judgment than for you. And thou, Capernaum,
which art exalted unto heaven, shall be brought down to
hell, and it shall be more tolerable for the land of Sodom
in the day of judgment than for thee." I am aware that
lately there has been some dispute whether this be the site
of Capernaum, but I had now passed along the whole west
ern shore of the lake, and, if this be not Capernaum, my
horse's hoofs must have trampled upon the city of our Sav
iour's love without my knowing where that city stood.
I thought to enhance the interest of this day's journey
by making my noonday meal from the fish of the Lake of

262 INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL.
Genesareth ; obliged to go back by the mills, and having
on my way up seen a net drying on the shore, I had roused
the sleeping Arabs, and they had promised to throw it for
me ; but, when I returned, I found that, like Simon Peter
and the sons of Zebedee, " they had toiled all day, and
had caught no fish."
Here we turned away from the consecrated lake, and fixed
our eyes on the end of my day's journey, the towering city of
Zaffad. But the interest of the day was not yet over. As
cending for about an hour from the shore of the lake, we came
to the great caravan road frora Jerusalem to Damascus, and a
little off frora this to a large khan; and within this khan, ac
cording to tradition, is the pit into which Joseph was thrown
by his brethren before they sold hira to the Ishmaelites. The
khan, like all other caravansaries, is a large stone building,
enclosing a hollow square, with small chambers around it for
the accommodation of caravan travellers. The pit is a solid
piece of mason work, like a well ; and, when I saw it, was
nearly full of water. Both Mussulmans and Christians
reverence this as a holy place ; near it are a Mussulman
mosque and a Christian chapel ; and few travellers pass this
way, whether Mussulmans or Christians, without prostra
ting themselves before the altar of Joseph the Just.
In all probability, the legend establishing this locality
has no better foundation than most of the others in the
Holy Land; but I cannot help remarking that 1 do not attach
the importance assigned by others to the circumstance of
its distance from Hebron, at that time Jacob's dwelling-
place. We know that Joseph's brethren were feeding their
father's flock at Shechem ; and, when Joseph came thither
" wandering in the field, he inquired after his brethren, and
a man told hira they are departed hence, for I heard them
say, Let us go to Dothan ; and Joseph went after his breth.
ren, and found them in Dothan." If there be any good rea
son for calling this place Dothan, to me.it does not seem at

CITY OP ZAFFAD. 263
all strange, that, in the pastoral state of society which ex
isted then, and still exists unchanged, Jacob's sons had driven
their fiocks to a pasture-ground two days farther on ; and,
affording a striking illustration of the scene supposed to
have taken place here, while we were loitering around the
khan, a caravan of merchants frora Damascus came up, on
their way to Egypt, and the buying or selling of slaves,
white or black, being still a part of the trade between these
places, I have no doubt that, if I had offered Paul for sale,
they would have bought him and carried him to Egypt,
where, perhaps, he might have risen to be a grand vizier.
From hence we continued mounting again, the city of Zaf
fad seeming to detach itself more and raore, and to rise
higher and higher above surrounding objects, and the atrao-
sphere growing perceptibly colder ; and at four o'clock we
had reached^ the city.
Zaffad is the last of the four holy cities of the Jews.
My intercourse with the Jews in the Holy Land had been
so interesting, that 1 deterrained to prolong it to the last, and,
having heard a favourable report of a Jew, the English con
sular agent at Zaffad, I rode directly to his house. He was
a very poor and a very amiable man. I went with him to the
governor, showed my firman, and demanded permission to
see the grotto of Jacob. The governor was sick, and told me
that God had sent me there expressly to cure him. Since
my successful experiment upon the governor of Hebron, I
began to think doctoring governors wag my forte, and, after
feeling his pulse, and making him stick out his tongue, upon
the principle that a governor was a governor, and what was
good for one was good for another, I gave him an emetic
which alraost turned hira inside out, and corapletely cured
him. One thing I cannot help observing, not with a view of
impeaching anything that is written, but as illustrating the
state of society in the East, that if a skilful physician, by
the application of his medical science, should raise an Arab

264 INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL.
from what, without such application, would be his bed of
death, the ignorant people would be very likely to believe
it a miracle, and to follow him with that degree of faith
which would give credence to the saving virtue of touching
the " hem of his garment."
From the palace of the governor we ascended to the
ruined fortress crowning the very top of the hill, and from
one of the windows of the tower I looked down upon an
extensive prospect of hills and valleys ; the Lake of Genes
areth seemed almost at my feet; the stately and majestic
Tabor was far below rae, and beyond was the great plain
of Jezreel, stretching off to the mountains of Carmel and
the shores of the Mediterranean. In all my wanderings
in the most remote places, I hkd been constantly seeing
what I may call the handwriting of Napoleon. In Italy,
Poland, Germany, and the burnt and rebuilt capital of the
tzars, at the pyramids and cataracts of the Nile, and now,
on this almost inaccessible height, the turrets of the fortress
were battered by the French cannon.
We descended again to the Jews' quarter. Their houses
were on the side of the hill, overlooking a beautiful valley.
It was the last day of eating unleavened bread, and the whole
Jewish population, in their best attire, were sitting on the
terraces and on the tops of their houses, in gay, striking,
and beautiful costumes, the women with their gold and sil
ver ornaments on their heads and around their necks, en
joying the balmy mildness of a Syrian sunset; and, when
the shades of evening had driven them to their houses, I
heard all around rae, and for the last time in the Holy Land,
rising in loud and solemn chants, the Songs of Solomon
and the Psalms of David.
There are about two hundred families of Israelites in
Zaffad ; they come there only to lay their bones in the
land of their fathers ; have no occupation or means of live
lihood ; spend all their time in reading the Bible and Tal-

KINDNESS OF THE JEWS. 265
mud, and live upon the charity of their European brethren.
The agent told me that during the late revolution they had
been stripped of everything ; that, as at Hebron, they had
suffered robbery, murder, and rapine ; that the governor had
allowed them to take refuge in the fortress, where they re
mained, three thousand in number, without a mat to lie on
or bread to put in their mouths ; many of them had died of
starvation, and the living remained beside the bodies of
the dead till the whirlwind passed by ; that, thinking hira
self safe under his foreign protection, he had remained be
low, but that his hat with the consular cockade had been
torn off and trampled under foot ; and his wife, a lovely
young woman sitting by our side, then not more than nine
teen, had been thrown down, whipped, and he did not tell
me so, but I inferred that far worse had befallen her ; and
the brutal Turk who committed the outrage still lived, and
he met him in the streets every day.
During the evening a Christian from Nazareth carae in,
and it struck me as an interesting circumstance that I was
introduced to him as a brother Nazarene.
A Jew welcomed me to the first of the holy cities, and a
Jew accompanied me on my exit from the last. Both re
ceived me into their houses, and gave me the best that they
had, and both refused to accept a price for their hospitality.
I had a hard day's journey before me. My Jewish friend
had told me that it would be necessary to make a very
early start to arrive at Acre that night, but it so happened
that I set off late. We had a ravine to cross, the worst I
had met in Syria. Paul and I were some distance ahead,
when we heard the shouting of our muleteer ; our bag
gage mule had fallen and caught on the brink of a pre
cipice, Where he was afraid to move until we came to his
help ; and this and the exceeding roughness of the road de
tained us so much, that, when we reached the other side
of the ravine, my guide told me that it would be utterly im-
VOL. II.— Z

266 INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL.
possible to reach Acre that day. I would have returned, but
I did not want to throw myself again upon the hospitality
of my Jew friend. I was in a bad condition for roughing
it ; but, at the risk of being obliged to sleep in some mis
erable Arab hut, or perhaps under the walls of Acre, I
pushed on.
For two or three hours there was no improvement in the
road ; we were obliged to dismount several times, and could
not do more than pick our way on a walk. We then came
to the village of Rinah, situated in a fine olive-grove. The
villagers told us it would be impossible to reach Acre before
night, but a bribe to ray guide induced hira to lead off on a
brisk trot. Of every raan we met we asked the distance ;
at length we came to one who told us he thought we might
do it. I could almost always tell beforehand the answer we
should get ; when we came to a lazy fellow, sprawling on
the ground and basking in the sun, he invariably said no ;
and when we met an Arab, riding nimbly on his mule, or
striding over the ground as if he had something to do and
meant to do it, his answer was always yes, and so we were
alternately cheered and discouraged. We watered our
horses at the stream without dismounting. About midday
Paul handed me a boiled fowl, holding on by one leg while
I pulled at the other ; the fowl carae apart, and so we dined
on horseback without stopping. I am not sure, but I do not
think that there was anything particularly interesting on the
road ; once, riding over a fine, well-cultivated valley, we
saw at a distance on the right two handsome villages, and
standing alone, something which appeared to be a large
white mosque or sheik's tomb.
At about four o'clock we came in sight of the Mediter
ranean, the great plain of Acre, the low circular shore ex
tending to Caipha and Mount Carmel, and before us, at a
great distance, on an extreme point in the sea, the ancient

THE MEDITERRANEAN SEA. 267
Ptolemais, the St. Jean d'Acre of Richard and the Cru
saders. Still we were not safe. The sun was settling
away towards my distant home when we reached the shore
of the sea. I shall never forget my sensations at the mo
ment when I gained that shore ; after the Red Sea and the
Dead Sea, and the Sea of Galilee, it seemed an old ac
quaintance, and I spurred my horse into the waters to greet
it. But I had no tirae to dally, for as yet I was not secure.
I joined the last of the loungers outside the walls ; the heavy
gates were swung to as I entered ; and when I pushed ray
jaded horse over the threshold of the gate I felt as happy
as the gallant leader of the Crusaders when he planted the
banner of England upon the walls of Acre. Soon in the
peaceful cell of the convent, 1 forgot my toil and anxiety
as well as Richard and the holy wars. The night before I
had slept by the quiet waters of Galilee, and now the last
sounds that I heard were the rolling waves of the Mediter
ranean.

268 INCIDENTS OP TRAVEL

CHAPTER XIX.
A Ride on Donkeyback. — Caipha. — Adyenture with a Consul. — Mount
Carmel.— The Plain of Jezreel. — Convent of Mount Carmel.— Kindness
of the Monks. — Curiosity Gratified.
I ROSE next morning much fatigued. My strength had
been greatly impaired by sickness and exposure, and I in
tended to give myself a day of rest, instead of which I
committed an act of folly. The night before I left Jerusa
lem I had seen, at the house of my friend Mr. Whiting, the
poetical pilgrimage of M. de la Marline ; I had not time to
read it through, and by chance opened it at the chapter
containing the particulars of his visit to Caipha, and the
glowing account which he gave of the , two sisters of the
Sardinian consul had inflamed in sorae degree my ima
gination. I had found it one of the most annoying circum
stances attendant upon travelling in the East, that, in spite of
the poetical accounts of Eastern beauty, though 1 had seen
Georgian and Circassian woraen, I had never yet met with
anything that to my mind was equal to the beauty of the
European and American women. I had passed Caipha,
and it was a direct retrograde movement to go there ; but
early in the morning, as I was walking on the ramparts of
Acre, I looked back towards the little city, and the beautiful
creations of the poet rose before me in most ravishing col
ours. I was worn down. There was no physician in
Acre ; and, perhaps, to bask an hour in the sunshine of
beauty might revive and restore me. Paul too was under
the weather ; ever since his fall from the dromedary he had
wanted bleeding, and it might do him good. In short, I had

A RIDE ON DONKEYBACK. 269
been rambling for months among ruins and old cities, work
ing as hard as if I were to be paid for it by the day ; I had
had enough of these things, and one glimpse of a beautiful
girl was worth more to me at that moraent than all the ruins
of the Holy Land ; but I would not admit to myself, much
less to Paul, that I was making this retrograde movement
merely to see a couple of pretty faces, and I ordered horses
for Caipha and Mount Carmel. Horses, however, were
not to be had, and we were obliged to take donkeys, which
I considered unlucky. For the first time since 1 left Jeru
salem, I brushed my tarbouch, my blue jacket, and gray
pantaloons. I started on donkeyback. Caipha is distant a ride of
about three hours and a half from Acre, all the way along
the shore of the sea. About half an hour frora Acre we
crossed the river Belus in a boat. It was on the banks of
this stream that Elijah killed the four hundred prophets of
Baal, gathered unto Mount Carmel by the orders of Ahab.
A dead level plain, fertile but uncultivated, stretched back
for many miles into the interior, and in the front to the foot
of Mount Cafmel. We rode close along the shore, where
the sand was every moment washed and hardened by the
waves. The sea was calm, but the wrecks on the shore,
of which we counted seventeen on our way to Caipha, told
us that the elements of storm and tempest might lurk under
a fair and beautiful face ; all which Was Apropos to my in-
tendedvisit. On the way I thought it necessary to let Paul
into part of my plans, and told him that I wanted to stop at
the house of the Sardinian consul. Paul asked rae whether
I had any letter to him ; I told hira no ; and, by degrees, dis
closed to him the reason of my wanting to go there ; and he
surprised me by telling me that he knew the young ladies
very well ; and when I asked him how and when, he told
me that he had assisted them in their cooking when he
stopped there three years before with Mr, Wellesley, This
Z2

270 INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL.
was rather a damper ; but I reflected that Haidee, on her beau
tiful little island, prepared with her own hands the food for
the shipwrecked, and revived at the thought.
We were now approaching Caipha. The city was walled
all around ; without the walls was a Mohammedan burying-
ground ; and the gate, like the shields of Homer's heroes,
was covered with a tough bull's hide. I rode directly to
the consul's house ; it was a miserable-looking place, and
on the platform directly before the door stood a most unpo-
etical heap of dirt and rubbish ; but I didn't mind that ; the
door was open, and I went in. The table was set for dinner,
and 1 could not help remarking a few rather questionable spots
on the table-cloth ; but I didn't mind that ; knives, forks,
and plates were a spectacle to which I had long been un
accustomed, and ray heart warraed even to the empty plat
ters. I thought I had come at the witching moraent, and
I felt as sure of my dinner as if I had it already under my
jacket. The consul was sitting on a settee, and I began the
acquaintance by asking him if there was an American con
sul there. He told me no ; at which I was very much sur
prised, as we had one at Jaffa, not so much of a place as
Caipha ; and I invited myself to a seat beside the consul,
and made myself agreeable. I soon found, however, that I
was not so pleasant a fellow as I thought. The consul an
swered my questions, but his manner might be interpreted,
" Don't you see you are keeping the dinner waiting 1" I
didn't mind that, however, but talked about the necessity of
my government having a consul there, to entertain Ameri
can travellers, and suggested that at Jaffa the government
had given the appointment to the then acting Sardinian
consul ; still ray friend was irapenetrable. I tried hira upon
several other topics, but with no great success. During
this time the mother entered, evidently in dishabille, and
occasionally I got a glimpse of a pair of fine black eyes
peeping at me through the door. At last, when I found

THE PLAIN OF JEZREEL. 871
that he was bent on not asking me to dine, I rose suddenly,
made a hundred apologies for my haste, shook hira cordially
by the hand, and, with most consummate impudence, told
him I would call again on my return frora Mount Carmel.
Paul rather crowed over me, for he had met and spoken to
the young ladies, and in the same place where he had
seen them before.
In about an hour we had reached the top of Mount Car
mel ; this celebrated mountain is the only great promontory
upon the low coast of Palestine, and it is, beyond all compar
ison, the finest mountain in the Holy Land. The traveller
at this day raay realize fully the poetical description by the
inspired writers, of the " excellency" of Mount Carmel.
The pine, oak, olive, and laurel grew above a beautiful car
pet of grass and wild flowers, and from amid this luxuri
ance I looked out upon the plains of Acre, the little city
stretching out on a low point, like a mere speck in the wa
ter ; and beyond, the mountains of Lebanon ; on the left,
along the shore of the Mediterranean to the ruins of Cesa-
rea, the once proud city of Herod and of Cornelius the
Centurion, where Paul made Felix tremble ; in front, the
dark blue sea, on whose bosom two transports, with Egyp
tian soldiers on board, were at that time stretching under
easy sail from Acre to Alexandria ; and behind, the great
plain of Jezreel.
One word with regard to this great plain. I had trav
elled around, and about, and across it ; had looked at it from
hills and mountains, and I was now on the point of leaving
it for ever. This plain, computed to be about fifteen miles
square, is the " mighty plain," as it is called, of the an
cients, and celebrated for more than three thousand years
as the " great battle-ground of nations." From here Elijah
girded up his loins, and ran before Ahab to the entrance of
Jezreel ; it was on this plain that Barak went down, and
ten thousand men after hira, and discomfited Sisera and all

272 INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL.
his chariots ; it was here that Josiah, king of Judah, dis
guised himself, that he might fight with Necho, king of
Egypt, and fell by the arrows of the Egyptian archers.
The Assyrian and the Persian, Jews and Gentiles, Crusa
ders and Saracens, Egyptians and Turks, Arabs and French
men, warriors of every nation, have poured out their blood on
the plains of Esdraelon ; and here, said a gentleman whom
I met in Palestine skilled in the reading and interpretation
of the prophecies, will be fought the great final battle with
antichrist, when circumstances which are now supposed
to be rapidly developing themselves shall bring together a
mighty army 61 the followers of Christ, under the banner of
the cross, to do battle in his name, and sweep from the earth
his contemners and opposers.
The convent on Mount Carmel is worthy of the place
where it stands, and, like the mountain itself, is the best in
the Holy Land. The church, which is unfinished, is in
tended to be a very fine building, and the interior of the
convent is really beautiful. I could hardly believe my own
eyes when I saw, in rooms provided for travellers, French
bedsteads with curtains, and French dressing-tables. The
rules of their order forbid the Carmelite friars to eat meat ;
but they set rae down to such a dinner, to say nothing of
the wines of Mount Lebanon, that, so far as regarded the
eating and drinking merely, I was glad I had not invited
myself to dine with my friend the consul at Caipha. From
my seat at the table I looked out upon the distant sea ; the
monks were all gathered around rae, kind, good men, hap
py to receive and talk with a stranger ; and it is no extrav
agance to say, that, after having been buffeted about for
months, I felt at the moment that I could be almost willing
to remain with them for ever. I ought not to tell it, but the
fact is, the extraordinary comfort of the convent, and the
extraordinary beauty of the scene, drove away all the asso
ciations connected with this gathering-place of the prophets.

CARMELITE FRIARS. 273
I wanted nothing but what I saw before me. The monks told
me that there was fine shooting on the mountain. I could
throw myself into the clearest of waters, and bathe, or, with
my little boat, could glide over to Caipha or Acre. For an
invalid in search of retirement, with every beauty that cli
mate and natural scenery can offer, I know no place su
perior to the convent at Mount Carmel. It is one of the
few places I ever saw where a man could be cheerful and
happy in perfect seclusion. Books, the mountain, the sky
and the sea, would be companions enough. It would be
the sweetest spot on earth for a very young couple to test
the strength of their poetic dreams ; and knocked about
and buffeted as I had been, when the superior told me that,
in spite of the inscription over the doors of their convents,
" clausura per le donna," I might build a house on the spot
Where I stood, and bring whom 1 pleased there, it instantly
brought to ray raind the beautiful birds of Paradise of De la
Marline, and my engagements with my friend the consul
at Caipha. The whole of the fraternity accompanied me
down the side of the mountain ; and I beg to except them all,
including the cook, from anything 1 may have said bearing
harshly upon the monastic character. The recollection of
my engagement, however, began to hurry me. The friars
were pussy and shortwinded ; one by one they bade me
good-by ; and the cook, a most deserving brother, and un
naturally lean for his profession and position in the convent,
was the only one who held out to the foot of the mountain.
I crossed his hand with a piece of money ; Paul kissed it ;
and, after we had started, turned his head and cried out to
the holy cook, " Orate pro mihi," " Pray for me."
At Caipha we found the consul in the street. I do not
know whether he was expecting us or not ; but, whether or
no, I considered it my duty to apologize for having stayed so
long on the mountain, and accompanied him to his house.
Unluckily, it was so late, that Paul said if we stopped we

274 INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL.
should be shut out from Acre ; and when 1 looked at the sun
and the distant city I had great misgivings, but it was only for
a moment. The sisters were now dressed up, and standing
in a door as I passed. Their dresses were Asiatic, consisting,
frora the waist downward, of a variety of wrappers, the out
ermost of which was silk, hiding the most beautiful figures
under a mere bundle of habits. I went into the room and took
a glass of lemonade with my watch in my hand. I would
not speak of her in the morning, but now, In full dress, the in
teresting mother, so glowingly described by M. de la Marline,
appeared in a costume a great deal beyond what is usually
called low in the neck. I do not mention it as a reproach
to her, for she was an Arab woman, and it was the custom
of her country ; and as to the young ladies — M. de la Mar-
tine had never been in America.
I had intended this for a day of rest ; but I had, if possible,
a harder task than on the preceding day to reach the city be
fore the gates were closed. We pushed our donkeys till they
broke down, and then got off and whipped them on before us.
It was like the Irishman working his passage by hauling the
towline of the canal boat ; if it was not for the name of the
thing, we might as well have walked ; and when I lay down
that night in my cell in the convent, I prayed that age might
temper enthusiasm ; that even the imagination of M. de la
Marline might grow cool ; and that old men would pay re
spect to their lawful wives, and not go in ecstasies about
young girls.

ST. JEAN D ACRE. 275

CHAPTER XX.
St. Jean d'Acre.— Extortions of the Pacha. — Tyre. — Questionable Com
pany. — Lady Esther Stanhope. — Departure from the Holy Land — Con
elusion. I SHALL say but little of Acre. The age of chivalry is
gone for ever, but there is a green spot in every man's
memory, a feeble but undying spark of romance in every
heart ; and that man's feelings are not to be envied who
could walk on the ramparts of St. Jean d'Acre without call
ing up Richard and Saladin, the Crusaders and the Saracens ;
and when the interval of centuries is forgotten, and the im
agination is revelling in the scenes of days long passed
away, his illusion rises to the vividness of reality as he sees
dashing by him a gallant array of Turkish horsemen, with
turbans and glittering sabres, as when they sallied forth to
drive back from the walls the chivalry of Europe. Near
the city is a mount which is still called Richard Coeur de
Lion, and from which Napoleon, pointing to the city, said
to Murat, " The fate of the East depends upon yonder petty
town." Constantinople and the Indies, a new empire in the
East, and a change in the face of the whole world ! Eight
times he led his veteran soldiers to the assault ; eleven
times he stood the desperate sallies of the Mameluke sa
bres. British soldiers under Sir Sidney Smith came to the
aid of the besieged ; the ruins of a breached wall served
as a breastwork, the muzzles of British and French mus
kets touched each other, and the spearheads of their stand
ards were locked together. The bravest of his ofiicers
were killed, and the bodies of the dead soldiers lying

276 INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL.
around putrefied under the burning sun. The pacha (Djez-
zar the Butcher) sat on the floor of his palace, surrounded by
aheap of gory heads, distributing money to all who brought
in the heads of Frenchraen, and he who was destined to
overturn every throne in Europe was foiled under the walls
of Acre. Three years ago it sustained, under Abdallah Pa
cha, a long and bloody siege from Ibrahim Pacha ; and,
when it fell into his hands, was given up to pillage and the
flames. It has since been rebuilt, fortified with skiU and
science, and is now almost impregnable ; full of the elite
of the Egyptian army under Colonel Seve (formerly aid to
Marshal Ney), now Suliman Pacha, and constantly stored
with five years' provisions. The pacha has lately been
building fine hospitals for his soldiers, and an Italian apoth
ecary, licensed to kill secundem artem, is let loose upon ihe
sick at the low rate of a hundred dollars per annum.
I was so much pleased with the old Arab muleteer who
went with me to Mount Carmel, that I hired his donkeys
again for another journey. He was an old Egyptian from
Damietta ; four of his children had been taken for soldiers,
and he and his old wife and three donkeys followed them
about wherever they went. He had had two wives and
sixteen children, and these were all that were left. They
were all now stationed at Acre, and, when we started, two
of them, not on duty at the time, were with the old man at
the convent, arranging the baggage while he was taking his
coffee and pipe ; they accompanied us to the gate, received
the old man's benediction, and returned.
A short distance from the gate we met a Turkish gran
dee, with his officers, slaves, and attendants. He had
formerly been a collector of taxes under Abdallah Pacha,
and would have done well as an office-holder under a civil
ized government, for he had abandoned the falling fortunes
of his master in time to slip into the same office under his
successor.

GRASPING POLICY OF THE PACHA. 277
Looking back, Acre appeared to much better advantage
than from the other side, and the mosque and minaret of
Abdallah Pacha were particularly conspicuous. We rode
for some distance by the side of an aqueduct, which con
veys water frora the mountains twenty miles distant to the
city of Acre. In the plain towards Acre two upright pillars,
in which the water rose and descended, formed part of the
aqueduct. Our road lay across a plain, and several times we
picked up musket balls and fragments of bombs, left there
by the French and Napoleon. We passed two palaces of
Abdallah Pacha, where the haughty Turk had revelled with
his fifty or a hundred wives in all the luxuries of the East.
The plain was very extensive, naturally rich, but almost
entirely uncultivated. Over an extent of several miles we
would perhaps see a single Arab turning up what on the great
plain appeared to be merely a few yards ; and the oppres
sive nature of the government is manifest from the fact that,
while the whole of this rich plain lies open to any one who
chooses to till it, hundreds prefer to drag out a half-starved
existence within the walls of Acre ; for the fruits of their
labour are not their own, and another will reap where they
sow ; the tax-gatherer comes and looks at the products, and
takes not a fifth, or a sixth, nor any other fixed proportion,
but as much as the pacha needs ; and the question is not
how much he shall take, but how little he shall leave. Tax
ation, or rather extortion, for it is wrong to call it by so mild
a narae, from cantars of olives down to single eggs, grinds
the Arab to the dust ; and yet, said the old man, even this
is better than our lot under the sultan ; even this we could
bear if the pacha would only spare us our children.
Along this plain we passed a large house, in a garden
of oranges, lemons, almonds, and figs, with a row of cy
press-trees along the road ; formerly the residence of the
treasurer of Abdallah Pacha. He himself had been a
great tyrant and oppressor, and had fallen into the hands of
Vol. II.— a a

278 INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL.
a greater, and now wanders, with both his eyes out, a beg
gar in the streets of Cairo.
In about five hours we came upon the sea, on a bold point
projecting out like Carmel, the white promontory of Pliny,
the ancient Scala of the Syrians. On this point stood an
old khan, and we sat down under the shadow of the wall
for our noonday lunch. From here, too, the view was
exceedingly fine. On the left were Acre and Mount Car
mel ; on the right the Turkish city of Sour, the ancient
Tyre ; and, in front, the horizon was darkened by the island
of Cyprus. Almost at my feet was the wreck of a schooner,
driven on the rocks only the night before, her shivered
sails still flying from the masts, and the luckless mariners
were alongside in a sraall boat, bringing ashore the rem
nant of the cargo. Near rae, and, like me, looking out upon
the movements of the shipwrecked sailors, and apparently
bemoaning his own unhappy lot, was a long, awkward,
dangling young man, on his way to Acre ; sent by the sheik
of his village to work in Ibrahim Pacha's factory for three
rolls of bread a day. I asked him why he did not run away,
but where could he go ? If he went to a strange village, he
would immediately be delivered up on the never-failing de
mand for soldiers. There was no help for him. He did not
know that there were other lands, where men were free ;
and, if he had known it, the curse of poverty rested upon
him, and bound hira where he was. I had seen misery in
Italy, Greece, Turkey, Russia, and gallant, but conquered
and enslaved Poland, but I saw it refined and perfected un
der the iron despotism of Mohammed Aly.
From hence the road continued, for about two hours,
over a rocky precipice overhanging the sea, and so narrow
that, as I sat on my horse, I could look do^vn the steep
and naked sides into the clear water below. In one place
were the ruins of an old wall, probably, when the city be
fore me was in its glory, defending the precipice. In the

QUESTIONABLE COMPANY. 279
narrowest place we met a caravan of camels, and frora here
descended into a sandy plain, and, passing sraall rivulets
and ruins of castles or fortresses, came to a fine stream, oh
the banks of which were soldiers' barracks ; the horses,
with their gay accoutrements, were tied near the doors of
the tents, constantly saddled and bridled, and strains of mil
itary music were swelling from a band among the trees.
Near this are what are called Solomon's cisterns, sup
posed to have been built by King Solomon in payment for
the materials furnished by Hiram, king of Tyre, towards
the building of the temple. Circumstances, however, abun
dantly prove that these cisterns, and the aqueduct connecting
them with Tyre, have been built since the time of Alexander
the Great.
On the extreme end of a long, low, sandy isthmus, which
seems to have crawled out as far as it could, Stands the
fallen city of Tyre, seeming, at a distance, to rest on the
bosom of the sea. A Turkish soldier was stationed at the
Gate. I entered under an arch, so low that it was neces
sary to stoop on the back of my horse, and passed through
dark and narrow streets, sheltered by mats stretched over
the bazars from the scorching heat of a Syrian sun. A
single fishing-boat was lying in the harbour of " the crown
ing city, whose merchants were princes, whose traffickers
were the honourable of the earth."
I left the gate of Tyre between as honest a man and as
great a rogue as the sun ever shone upon. The honest
man was my old Arab, whom I kept with me in spite of his
bad donkey ; and the rogue was a limping, sore-eyed Arab,
in an old and ragged suit of regiraentals, whom I hired for
two days to relieve the old man in whipping the donkeys.
He was a dismissed soldier, turned out of Ibrahim Pacha's
army as of no use whatever, than which there could not be
a stronger certificate of worthlessness. He told me, how
ever, that he had once been/ a man of property, and, like

280 INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL.
honest Dogberry, had had his losses ; he had been worth
sixty piasters (nearly three dollars), with which he had
come to live in the city ; and been induced to embark in
enterprises that had turned out unfortunately, and he had
lost his all.
On my arrival at Sidon I drove immediately to the Arab
consular agent, to consult him about paying a visit to Lady
Esther Stanhope. He told me that I must send a note to
her ladyship, requesting permission to present myself, and
wait her pleasure for an answer ; that sometimes she was
rather capricious, and that the English consul from Bey
root had been obliged to wait two days. The state of my
health would not permit my waiting anywhere upon an un
certainty. I was but one day from Beyroot, where I looked
for rest and medical attendance ; but I did not like to go
past, and I made my application perhaps with more regard
to my own convenience and feelings than the respect due
to those of the lady. My baggage, with my writing mate
rials, had not yet arrived. I had no time to lose ; the Arab
agent gave me the best he had ; and writing a note about
as " big as a book" on a piece of coarse Arab paper with a
reed pen, and sealing it with a huge Arab wafer, I gave it
to a messenger, and, tumbling him out of the house, told
him he must bring me an answer before daylight the next
morning. He probably reached Lady Stanhope's residence
about nine or ten o'clock in the evening ; and I have no
doubt he tumbled in, just as he had been tumbled out at
Sidon, and, demanding an immediate answer, he got one
forthwith, " Her ladyship's compliments," &c. ; in short,
somewhat like that which a city lady gives from the head
of the stairs, " I'm not at home." I have since read M. de
la Marline's account of his visit to her ladyship, by which
it appears that her ladyship had regard to the phraseology
of a note. Mine, as near as I can recollect it, was as
follows : — " Mr. S., a young American, on the point of leav-

DEPARTURE FROM THE HOLY LAND. 281
ing the Holy Land, would regret exceedingly being obliged
to do so without first having paid his respects to the Lady
Esther Stanhope. If the Lady Esther Stanhope will allow
him that honour, Mr. S. will present himself to-morrow, at
any hour her ladyship will name." If the reader will com
pare this note with the letter of M. de la Marline, he will
alraost wonder that ray poor messenger, demanding, too, an
immediate answer, was not kicked out of doors. My hor
ses were at the dopr, either for Beyroot or her ladyship's
residence ; and, when obliged to turn away from the latter,
I comforted myself with a good gallop to the former. Her
ladyship was exceedingly lucky, by-the-way, in not having
received me ; for that night I broke down at Beyroot ; my
travels in the East were abruptly terminated ; and, after
lying ten days under the attendance of an old Italian quack,
with a blue frock coat and great frog buttons, who frightened
me to death every time he approached my bedside, I got
on board the first vessel bound for sea, and sailed for Alex
andria. At Beyroot I received a letter frora the friend who
had taken me on board his boat at Thebes, advising me of
the sickness of his lady, and that he had prevailed upon the
English doctor at Beyroot to accompany him to Damascus
and Baalbeck ; here, too, I heard of the death of Mr. Low
ell, a gentleman from Boston, who had preceded me in
many parts of my tour in the East; and who had every
where left behind him such a name that it was a pleasure
for an American to follow in his steps ; and here, too, I
heard of the great fire, which, by the time it reached this
distant land, had laid the whole of my native city in ruins.
In the midst of my troubles, however, I had three things
that gave rae pleasure. I met here my two friends with
whom I had mounted the cataracts of the Nile, one of whom
I hope one day to see in my own country ; I received from
the Austrian consul an assurance that the passport of my
Jew friend at Hebron should be made out, and delivered
A a2

282 INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL.
forthwith to his friend there ; and I saw Costigan's servant,
from whom I obtained a raap of the Dead Sea before referred
to. For ten days 1 lay on the deck of a little Austrian
schooner, watching the movements of a pair of turtle doves ;
and on the morning of the eleventh I was again off the coast
of Egypt, and entering the harbour of Alexandria. Here I
introduced myself to the reader ; and here, if he have not
fallen from me by the way, I take my leave of him, with
thanks for his patient courtesy.

NOTE.

By the arrival in this country of my fiiend Mr. Gliddon, of Cairo, of
¦whom mention has been several times made in the foregoing pages, the
author has received the following notice of the Egyptian Society. The
objects of the society are sufficiently explained in the notice ; and they are
such as cannot tail to recommend themselves to all who feel any interest
in Egypt, and the East generally. The author is personally acquainted
¦with many of the members, particularly with Mr. Walne, Hon. Sec, who,
besides being a gentleman of high literary and professional attainments,
has devoted much attention, and with great success, to the study of hiero
glyphics and Egyptian antiquities ; and the author feels great satisfaction
in being permitted to say that any individual, or literary or scientific in
stitution, may, without further introduction, correspond with Dr. Walne
in relation to any of the objects set forth in the notice.

NOTICE
OF THE
EGYPTIAN SOCIETY.

The impulse of modem discovery has excited a general and increasmg
interest respecting the antiquities of Egypt, while the unusual facilities of
access both from India and Europe, coupled with the internal tranquillity
of the country, are more than ever calculated to induce travellers to visit
the Valley of the Nile, and examine personally the extraordinary monu
ments with which its banks abound.
By the munificence of his highness the ¦viceroy, Cairo will, it is presumed,
possess, at no distant period, a museum that, in Egyptian antiquities, may

284 NOTE.
be expected to rival all existing collections. But the stranger visiting the
capital, removed from those conveniences to which he has been accustomed
in European cities, has particularly to regret the absence of a public library
of reference, so essential to his researches.
The want of an institution that should at once offer this desirable resource,
serve as a point of union for social intercourse, and be a medium for ob
taining additional information relative to Egypt and the adjacent countries,
has long been felt ; and it is a desire of supplying this deficiency that has
suggested the formation of the Egyptian Society.
The objects of the association are : —
First. To form a rendezvous for travellers, with the view of associating
literary and scientific men who may from time to time visit Egypt.
Second. To collect and record information relative to Egypt, and to those
parts of Africa and Asia which are connected with or tributary to this
country. Third. To facilitate research, by enabling travellers to avail themselves
of such information as may be in the power of the society to obtain, and by
offering them the advantage of a library of reference containing the most
valuable works on the East. The Egyptian Society is open to gentlemen
of all nations, and is composed of Members, Honorary Members, and As
sociate Members.
Members. The Members (the number of whom is at present limited to
twenty) are the trustees of the institution, direct the disposal
of the funds, and have the general government of the society.
To be eligible as a Member, a gentleman must have been at
least one year an Associate Member, and be recommended in
writing by three Members. The election must take place at
a general meeting, and be by ballot, one black ball to exclude.
Members pay an annual subscription of one guinea ; but those
elected after the 25th March, 1837, will pay in addition an ad
mission fee of one guinea.
The contribution of tftn guineas at once constitutes a Life
Member.
Honorary Honorary Members will be elected only from literary and
Members, scientific men, who have particularly distinguished themselves
in relation to Egypt, or from gentlemen who have especially
promoted the objects and interests of the society.
Associate. With the exception of taking a part in the government of the
Members, society. Associate Members enjoy the same privileges as the
Members. To be ehgible as an Associate Member, a gentleman, if not
usually resident in, must at least have visited Egypt, and have
passed two months either in this country, or in those parts of
Africa and Asia which are immediately connected with or tribu
tary to it. It is necessary that he be recommended in writing

NOTE.

285

by two Members : the election must take place at a general
meeting, and be by ballot, two black balls to exclude. Associ
ate Members pay an annual subscription of one guinea. The
contribution of five guineas at once constitutes a Life Aasociale
Member.
Honorary The president, treasurer, secretary, and council of manage-
Officers. ment are annually elected from the Members.
The funds arising from subscriptions and donations will be applied, as
far as possible, to the formation of a Library, to which the Members and
Associate Members can always have free access, and to which travellers
can be introduced, till such time as they become eligible to join the society.
Rooms have been opened, the association possesses the nucleus of a
Library, and the members have every reason to hope that, by their own
exertions, and with the assistance of those who take an interest in the
institution, they will soon succeed in forming a coUeccion that, while it
includes many interesting volumes on the East in general, may contain the
works of all the ancient and modem authors who have made Egypt the
subject of their observations. Alfred T. Walne, Hon. Sec.
Cairo, July 9, 1836.

Since the above was in type the author has been favoured with a com
munication from the Egyptian Society, by which it appears that the objects
of the society have been duly appreciated, and that it is now established
upon a foundation calculated to render it eminently useful to those who
may visit Egypt for the purpose of antiquarian, literary, or scientific re
search ; but the particular favour which the author has to acknowledge
now, is the interesting information that Colonel Vyse (before refened to as
engaged in exploring the pyramids) has discovered no less than three new
chambers over the king's chamber in the great pyramid, which he calls by
the names of Wellington, Nelson, and Lady  . The last is remarkable
as containing the following cartouche.

Rossellini, a learned Italian, now editing a second edition of Champollion's

286 NOTE.
works, who found this cartouche in one of the tombs, reads it " Seamphis."
This establishes the fact that the pyramids were not built anterior to the
use of hieroglyphics, and also that Suphis, or Saophis, was the builder, as
stated by Manetho, according to Mr. Wilkinson's table, about two thousand
one hundred and twenty years B. C. The particulars of this interesting
discovery, and the details connected with the present exploring of the pyra
mids, will probably soon be given to the public through Mr. Wilkinson.

THE END.